I’m falling back into this black hole of addiction, and I haven’t even relapsed. But I’m dreaming of it.
That’s scary to me. I reached a year clean from meth, two from cutting, and a month from cigarettes.. But now it’s like my subconscious is trying to come up with all of these ways to tempt me to break.
Music used to help me, so much, getting through times like these.. I used to be able to shut it off and just go numb until it passed. That’s just not how it is anymore. That almost seems like it would be a cake walk compared to now.
I have come to the conclusion that I cannot stay in Idaho, again.
The best decision I made after Josh’s suicide was to pack my fucking bags and fly to Rhode Island alone. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be typing this, today. I know that if I had stayed, it wouldn’t have taken very long to lose myself. (Because let’s be real, I already had.)
Almost a year later, I found his stash. 3 grams, sitting in the back of his phone. I stared at it for awhile. A long fucking while; and you know what? I fucking flushed it. By doing that, though, I didn’t say goodbye to the temptation or any of that shit. I showed that I can be stronger than my addiction, but as my mother told me: “Once an addict always an addict. That temptation will always be there,”
I’m still struggling. I’m terrified to go back to my hometown. That’s where this all started, and where a lot of it ended.. But my gut just keeps telling me that a few things were only put on pause.