For someone who talks so much and has so much crammed inside, it’s strange that I have been unable to come and pour my soul out on here. It’s like I wanted to stop being aware of my existence, like recording it would make its sadness and hurt more real. Just existing has been confusing and tortuous enough, to actually express the thoughts that have come as part of my journey has been an impossible task. There’s so much to say, so much has happened but it doesn’t really seem to matter as the girl who sits here typing is still the girl with the addiction, still the girl who needs help. I was offered a way out via the Christian rehab but due to its strict guidelines and removal of my medication as part of the requirements of entry, I was too scared and too lacking in faith to let this be a part of my destiny. I tried removing the medication at first, a week before going in and the result was a strange and painful week both mentally and physically. Twelve years of medications abandoned for a week did not provide the desired result I had so passionately imagined. I had to admit defeat. I also, which was more difficult, had to admit that I was walking away from the miracle I believe God had granted me. The help I prayed for, I could not accept and the guilt was unbearable. I have spent many nights crying to God that my faith was not as strong as I had assured Him it was. Hope House, the miracle rehab I prayed for followed a strict daily schedule of intense focus on God and a complete removal from all outside influences such as TV, non Christian music or books. It required of me an 11 month commitment to believing in their programme and following their specific rules. In the end, the once desperate pleas I had made for recovery became quietened by the worry that I would never be able to do it, that I was too weak, that I wasn’t ready for that kind of change. Fear took over and I bowed down to its powers over the belief in Gods saving grace for me. It still haunts me now, has that choice meant my destiny will now be harder for me to attain? Will I be trusted with Gods generosity again? Questions I now refuse to ponder, instead choosing to absorb my mind in computer games and drugs. The reality of my existence terrifies me.
My family who are beyond any normal understanding of devoted and loving, have jumped to the rescue to try and save their lost daughter. I stayed with both my mum and then my dad, experiencing proper meal times, a regular wake and sleep time and a body that did not rattle with the illegal poisons I had always depended on. It was the hardest 22 days I have experienced in years. Being on drugs gives you an almost cushion like protection from the harshness of real life of being actively engaged in living. Colours seemed brighter, people seemed more intense and I seemed more, well, free. I learnt the beauty of simple pleasures like walking amongst trees, running till I was exhausted, being able to feel emotions as they were intended to be felt. It was a struggle but it gave me confidence in my ability to live as I see so many other humans living. Maybe I could be one of them, could be a normal adult. Maybe I could find the strength to fight this crippling addiction and focus on stabilising my mental health……
Sadly 22 days was my best effort. The novelty of clean living, even with its surprising pleasures, was no contest for my desperation to return to numbing myself from the world around and within me. I ordered the cannabis even after listening to crying begs from my parents not to give up now. They believed that if I started on that then the next step would be the drinking and cocaine. I convinced them otherwise and I am ashamed to realise I manipulated the situation to get me my own way. I had to get stoned, I deserved it I reminded them. I had earned the escapism I told myself. It wouldn’t be a relapse, it was just a small break and then I could return to staying with my family every evening and maintain a sober real life. Do you believe that could be possible? Did I?
I sit here now on my sofa, experiencing my fifth session on cocaine and alcohol in the last week and a half. I still have debts I can’t afford to pay, I hate the feeling it gives me and I am being forced by my boyfriend to keep this from my parents in case it means they break us up. I wouldn’t want to crush them anyway, it would break them and just for once I don’t want to be the person doing that. This is my burden, I choose to carry it, I choose to live the lie. I choose to carry on with the two separate women inside of me. The girl who cries to be freed and the girl who begs for escapism. I have no idea which one is the real me.
I have now been given a social worker from the drugs team who has arranged for an interview in a fairly local rehab which deals with dual diagnosis clients. This means I could stay on my medication and in touch with my mental health team. I am allowed access to my phone and the programme is four months long with no focus on God, just focus on group and individual therapy. It would mean that I would choose to continue to journey with the Lord on my own at the pace that I deemed possible. I know I would be risking my ability to choose to focus on him over watching TV with the others or only working on the programme that they set me, but I truly have faith that I would still be taking this walk hand in hand with Him no matter where I go. I really believe He is giving me a second chance with this new rehab, adjusting the miracle out of love for me and recognition of my crippling fears. For that gift, I am unable to truly express the intensity of my thanks. He isn’t mad with me He reminds me, together we will find a new way.
The empty void I tried to fill when choosing to turn back to drugs has surprised me in its complete failure at bringing no good emotions or experiences at all. The time taking them is no longer enjoyable, I’m no longer able to distance myself from the real me, she came out in those clean days and now refuses to let me leave her completely. I am acutely aware that she is pleading with me to tell my family I am back in trouble again, to turn to God not escapism and to trust that I can learn to live a life free from the pain that always shadows my waking hours. I am still so lost, so scared and terrified of what either choice of life that I follow will be the one that makes me happy. Maybe I’m forever meant to be thrown between hope and hell…..maybe that’s where the answers will truly be found. All I know is, until I am ready to stare my life in the face, to let go of the terrors of the past and to stop being doubtful of my chance to live a happy future, I will never get out of this vicious circle.
Its good to bleed my emotions here, to let out some of the voices that crowd my head. I will try to be back again soon and I will pray that I can find the faith and strength to go for the path of light rather than the familiar streets of darkness. In God I trust.
Love Always.x
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