#It’s not AS bad as true opiate withdrawals but it was a rough 3 weeks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

galaxywarp · 3 months

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Hey Blue ;v; I just have something that I need to get off my chest, I need to tell somebody, so I hope it’s okay if I tell you: I have a problem with weed. As in, I need to stop using it. I’m thinking of, like, giving my stash to my friends so I can’t use it as easily. I need to tell my counsellor. But I’m scared. I need help. (Btw it’s not like it’s illegal here, it’s legal where I am. I’m scared because I’ve never dealt with something like this before)

Also, I have a question about your sobriety tracker (bc I use it too, just not for substance use) : when do you start tracking? From the last moment you put the drug in your body, or the first moment you sobered up from it/weren’t high?

And… I’m not weak for having a problem with weed, am I? Just bc like. It’s not a hard drug or anything, it feels kind of stupid to have this happen 😭

(Ugh I need to just say it. I’m addicted to it. Thankfully I don’t have much opportunity to use it, but I use it every chance I get, and I just broke one of my own rules that serves as a restriction)

Hi friend. Thanks for reaching out. I’m glad you’re on the step of your recovery where you can acknowledge you have a problem. That’s a really rough step

Especially because of the weird mixed signals and attitudes around weed addiction. I understand where you’re coming from.

And if it helps, this is me, a certified tweaker who used to OD on fentanyl regularly: your weed addiction is still real and still serious and you still deserve support.

Addiction is addiction when it’s hurting you. It sounds like you’ve come to acknowledge that weed is hurting you but even though it is, you’re struggling to stop.

You’re not doing it because it’s fun. You’re doing it because you feel like you need it and going without it is painful. I’ve felt that way about numerous drugs in my lifetime, and weed is definitely one of them. I would smoke myself so numb for months or years on end and it was absolutely miserable.

Im sorry you’re going through this. I have hope you’ll be able to overcome this. Im glad you shared this with me and I hope you can share it with others too.

If you do decide to quit, I know there’s a lot of stuff trying to claim that weed has no withdrawal symptoms. I don’t think that’s true. From lengthy personal experience I really don’t think that’s true. Heroin and meth were soooo much more extreme, don’t get me wrong. It’s apples to oranges — it can’t be compared

But when I stopped smoking pot I felt achy and agitated and bored and restless and upset and don’t let anyone, including yourself, invalidate that you feel shitty. It’s gonna feel bad for a bit and you have every right to own that. Don’t deny yourself some days of lying around whining and snacking and trying to distract yourself.

The good news is, after 2-3 weeks, you’ll start feeling better in a way you probably haven’t felt since you started smoking 24/7

If you need someone to vent to during that time, my askbox is open

Phew! That’s a lot. For your last question: my exact sobriety dates in my trackers are actually ….very loose

The short answer is that my memory of those times is very distorted because of, y know , drugs

The longer answer includes that I picked my dates as dates when I made a conscious decision that I wanted to quit.

My fentanyl date: September 27, 2019

I came home from a camping trip with my family. Because I was in the woods sleeping in a tent with them all weekend, I couldn’t bring my drugs. And I was gonna be in withdrawal

But I had saved a few suboxone from my last detox clinic and I used them over the weekend to keep the pain manageable (suboxone is used for opiate withdrawal so I had been prescribed it off and on for years)

When I got home I still had a small bag left of fentanyl.

I decided….i wasn’t going to buy anymore

And over the next few days I used what was left, all the way down to desperately licking the bag and smoking burnt tin foil, trying to wean myself so my withdrawal symptoms weren’t as bad

And then I ran out. And I stopped. And now im 4 years clean from it

Very similar story with my meth date: April 1st 2023

I still had a little bit of meth left but that was the day I said I didn’t want to get anymore. And when it was gone, it was gone. And now it’s been over a year

#asks #recovery tag

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jesskuhmac · 7 years

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2017 Return

I am returning to tumblr. It is, in a way, my “secret blog.” My outlet of creativity and somewhere I will not fear judgement from those that know me. HERE IS THE BIG REVEAL!

My life was already seemingly ..we will say “rough.” With my type 1 Diabetes, my j-pouch from my colon removal. Now, in my return, you wont believe where my life ended up.

I was in what I thought to be..“A fairytale romance.” But, things went off the deep end. Well that man and I, ended up in an i.v heroin addiction. At one point he was sent back to California , because his parents were only here for a few years to handle their business that is located close to where I live. They had returned to Cali and Robert had stayed living with my family and I. So eventually, my family found my syringes.. Bobby wasn’t able to hold a job. Not from just the drugs..but also some mental demons he was fighting that I just always hoped were not existent, but now I 100% believe that he really did inherit his biological fathers schizophrenia and depression, and more.. I’m sure. So we had to drop him off at the airport and said goodbye. SO.. the few weeks leading up to his departure, I wouldn’t stop crying… I told him I knew that we would never see eachother again. I felt that he did not have the determination among other things to get a job and work to support himself all while saving money to move back to PA with me. I eventually ended up being kicked out. I never thought my parents would do that, because I had so many serious health issues. But they had no choice, and I understand that now…finally. I also forgot to mention that now, I had my j-pouch removed. I had my whole large intestine and fake colon removed, and now have a permanent ileostomy. It really ruined my confidence and added undeniable anxiety to my life. So anyways, I starved. I lived with my friend that grew up next door. Her mother was in and out of jail, and was an addict herself. She allowed partying and actually used with us. My addiction got worse. Some days I just wished for death. I was letting my non-licensed drug dealer keep my car in exchange for drugs. I was lying to everyone about being clean. At one point, I received a message from a woman that I learned to be Bobby’s secret girlfriend. Well .. don’t ever say things can’t get any worse…because they sure as hell can. SO ..eventually I came home, after somehow faking my sobriety. I just got better at hiding it and manipulating. I got a job with a family member in an office. Bobby dumped the other woman and claimed that he did it because I was not loving him, and I was distant because of my addiction. Which was fucked up because, he was the one to shove needles in my arm until I mustered up the guts to hit my veins myself. Of course, there are many details and happenings I am missing and do not want to type out. The short version of my story is..long enough. One day, I decided I was ready to stop. I asked my mother if I could tag along on Sunday morning to go visit my grandmother at a nursing home to take the opportunity to talk. My dad had anger issues and is a large intimidating man. He was never one to be sweet and talk about feelings. He showed emotions in anger and loud yelling and cursing and saying stupid far fetched things..but he eventually changed..but that will be talked about later.. So my mom took it well. The next day was a Monday..I woke up dope sick, went to get money, and shot up. When my dealer drove up, I told him he wouldn’t be hearing from me. That I was going away. So I ended up loading myself up for the long drive and annoying admission process that would be just torture to do in withdrawal. Which was always worse for me..due to my diabetes and ileostomy. My sugars would spike to critically high numbers, and my shit bag turned into a..water bag. Yes, that meant that instead of the bit of intestine that is sewn outside of my stomach having normal stool..literally clear water would pour out like a faucet. What a mess. How embarrassing. Even though I hid it..the sounds and the nurses and doctors seeing it was enough mixed with my already embarrassing drug habit..I bet they thought..“Why would she use knowing she has so many diseases already?” But the pain from the ostomy and my diabetes, my traumatizing experiences from being so sick from age 11 and having a lot of other messed up scenarios at school and with bad doctors and terrifying hospital experiences is what led to my addiction. Well that and the opiates that I was on after surgery mixed together.. So I am wrapping it up by saying..That stay in rehab was scary. But once I got used to it, I got serious. I was also one of the most beautiful girls there. And trust me..I am not cocky enough to just say that myself. Some people joked by saying they thpught I worked there. I sure didnt look the part. People were so sad to hear about my medical issues..they all said it was such a tradgedy. I guess I agree. So that ONE rehab stay, was my last. Usually the statistics say that one to three people within the whole rehab would stay clean after leaving. I stayed in touch with most of the people and sadly, thats true..Most had relapsed or died. So when I got home, my dad was so loving and …different. He kissed my cheek and said how glad he was to see me. He was excited to walk me to my room and show me the smart t.v he bought me because I had sold my old t.v for drugs..of course. Oh and..I forgot to say..My father worked night shift. So my mother and I decided to not tell him when i decided to leave again to avoid fighting and violence in the house ..we had no idea how long it was going to take to get a bed available in rehab. He was asleep while I packed and my mother came home and we quickly carried my luggage out and left without him waking up. I dont know how he didn’t because ever since he found out I was an addict..he never slept soundly and would wake up every time he heard a noise or the doors beeped from our alarm when opening them. So luckily I had warned my uncle before I left that I was going and he said the job would be waiting when I was home. I am so blessed. Today I am 1 year and 3 months clean. I am living and breathing the narcotics anonymous program. I have a sponsor, a homegroup, and am in service in many ways. I have a family of women that I can count on. My family is so happy and in peace and harmony. My father came out of the mess a very sensitive, loving and affectionate man..which is so surprising. I guess there are a few things that turned out for the better other than just me being happy and in recovery. I have a close relationship with God and I no longer believe in religion. I believe in spirituality and a relationship with a higher power. I held my part time job. I still struggle medically, but am working on it. We actually ended up getting a puppy french bulldog shortly after I came back home. I have pride again. Can save money and pay my bills. My family and employer trust me with money and credit cards, and constantly praise me for how beautiful of a person I have become. I inspire others..whether it be because of my medical battles, my addiction or many other things I have been through. Unfortunately I had to cut ties with the friend next door due to her inability to stay sober. This disease is an apidemic. But if I could do it with all of my missing and failed organs, and mental diseases, so can anyone else. Oh and of course not to my surprise, that boyfriend never came back. He broke my heart just about 2 or 3 months ago but..I will love again and it will be perhaps better than that. Even though I was REALLLLLY attracted to him, and he was by my hospital bedside, and said things no other guys ever rarely do..I guess the truth is..that nothing he says can make up for literally shoving drugs into me and not realizing if he loved me, he would have known my diseases made using drugs an even bigger risk that it is for others.

Again, theres a lot left out..both good and bad things. Some that would bring tears upon even the most stubborn, hard-asses. But for now, I’ll leave it at this.

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