#i do still wish i had fucking oxy though. i am very upset about the lack of that in my life

[sangfielle]

moving out and kind of becoming a stoner has been fun honestly. its a lot better than being a severe alcoholic if nothing else

[soulinquest]

Major Changes

The past year has been one of the most challenging of my life. In 2013, my girlfriend of 5 1/2 years was killed in a tragic car accident during a winter white-out. I knew at this point, that the way I processed this and moved forward could go in one of two directions - a healthy rebound putting that pain into something positive, or a self-destructive lifestyle.

I spent around 6 months digesting things and just coming to accept what had been done. I was in a daze for a long time, and frankly, don’t really even remember the following month from being in that hospital room. But in that month, I got a bicycle.

I grew up riding bikes, dirtbikes, four-wheelers, mini-bikes, all of that stuff that an ol’ Indiana kid would be into. Cycling was something that my highshool best friend, and still thankfully current best friend despite living on the other side of the world, got me into. We exchanged hobbies - he bought a dirtbike, and I got a mountain bike when I graduated college. I LOVED my new bike - a 2013 Trek Superfly AL Elite. I may write more about my cycling life at another point.

But after my girlfriend’s passing, I ended up with a roadbike that was drastically beyond my abilities that I could grow into - a 2015 Giant Defy Composite 0 with a full electronic Ultegra Di2 component set. We got a killer deal on it, but again, I don’t fully remember the details around the time I got it.

Friends of mine said they could even say they saw it on me. I thankfully never got into a very destructive habit at that point, beyond the anti-anxiety medications that helped me move forward. Those with the combination of stress and PTSD symptoms lead to this blackout period.

From there, I racked up around 5,000 miles over the next few years. I dropped 30lbs. I was in the best shape of my life and happy. I loved that period of my life. I spent so much time biking alone, which was obviously lonely at times, but I loved the freedom and having a hobby as intense as this to spend my money on - roof racks, bike upgrades, kits and gear, and even more bikes.

When that best friend of mine referenced above graduated college and got a job, it ended up being in Florida. This was something tough for me to reconcile with because this guy was my best friend and directly responsible for the most enjoyable trips and adventures I had ever had. We have had ups and downs, together and individually. We grew apart, grew back together, and now have a long distance friendship that allows us to see eachother a few times a year maybe, but the quality of our friendship never changed, and I’m thankful for that. It’s hard to find genuine friends these days to connect with, that have the same interests in you, and that aren’t already married or in a serious relationship of their own which they understandably are putting an enormous amount of time and effort into.

The day my best friend, who I’ll reference to as Arthur (not his real name, but an inside joke between us), left to go to Florida, he stopped by my apartment on his way out for a going away/roommate birthday party. It was one of the best parties I’ve ever been to. I don’t typically love these ragers, but having so many close family and friends and the electricity in the air made it amazing. 

That night, I met up with a girl, who I will refer to as Liz (also not her real name), that went to my high school and I had been one date on. We went out and had an amazing evening together that night as I split from the party some. This eventually turned into a very intense, tight knit relationship that felt like it made my life complete.

The point of this post is to talk about that. My relationship with Liz went strong for a year and a half. We were happy, we did many things, I even got a passport and left the country for my first time. She broke down a lot of barriers in my life, showed me how to be vulnerable, and was nothing but a positive influence that I was so proud to have. We had our issues with communication that I think plagues many relationships, but that didn’t alter my opinion that we had something great.

The truth of it is this though, as this was all going on, I ended up being isolating myself and not allowing myself to be the full person I was or who I wanted to be. I didn’t treat her as well as I wanted to. Not in an abusive way, but I wish I could have made her feel special. The reason that I couldn’t was because I was living somewhat of a double life. One side was a successful young professional with a great salary, friends, hobbies, and seemed to have life figured out. The other side was someone who fell into a trap with opiates that I struggled with for around a year. 

A friend from college who I will refer to as Bill (not his real name), offered me heroin on the first day we moved in together in 2015 or 2016. I was told “hey man, this is just like the vicodins and percocets we have done in the past, it’s fun. Not a big deal. It has a stigma that I think is bullshit but I do it a few times a month maybe now, you should give it a try”. That exact moment is something I wish I could go back and change so bad. I enjoy drugs. I enjoy the experiences and mind altering effects. Opiates were always my favorite. I drew a line for myself at Cocaine and Heroin, knowing that I would probably enjoy either of those TOO much, and would have hard time not falling into the stereotypical story that the “not even one time” campaign refers to. That one time sparked something that I didn’t reconcile or identify for a long time.

I tried it. I loved it. I don’t think anyone could NOT love it. The chemical reactions that it causes in your brain would pretty much keep you from ever not enjoying it. We smoked it. It tasted good, like a roasted marshmallow. I did a small amount with him that night, which turned into a “let’s get more for tomorrow to celebrate our new apartment”. 

This post could go on forever, but I think the direction it’s moving is obvious. A special occasion turned into weekends which turned into weekdays, which turned into every day. I looked forward to it, but the first time we couldn’t get any, I suddenly realized that I had become physically dependent. It became a fun activity to what felt like a necessity that you could place in line with eating food, drinking water, and breathing air. I was a mess without it. Flu symptoms, depression, everything. 

This didn’t last long though. Even though I crossed that bridge, I realized how wrong this was. I substituted this for oxy and vicodin. In comparison, these are much better, but still was not great. It just allowed me to keep functioning.

All during this time, I was dating Liz. She had no idea. At first, all of this second life didn’t feel like a second life. It felt like something that just happened here and there and that I just wasn’t sharing with her. I became so upset with Bill for introducing me and convincing me “It’s not a big deal” and blamed him for so long. But this was a decision I made - I could have said no, walked away, he only offered. So despite Bill still being on that path and us not talking at all anymore, I was still stuck with this habit. 

I remember panicking at times, thinking “What the fuck did I do? How did I get to this place? This isn’t me. Am I going to be able to escape from this? Can I do this on my own? How does this story end?”

From there, I did months of research to quit, recovery help, vitamins and supplements to assist and make it easier to stop to prevent the possibility of a relapse. I was so angry at Bill and never wanted to bring someone else into this world with me. I would do anything I could to tell people to avoid that devil’s powder. I feel that people may be able to enjoy low level opiates on a responsible basis, but I think that the ability to do that with dope is nearly impossible. 

I had my supplements, vitamins, knowledge of what I was against, and had successfully tapered down from the worst of the worst, to just Oxys. “Just Oxy” is kind of a joke to say cause it’s still a monster itself, but at least it wasn’t the dope that I know Bill was spending $100/day on, previously was selling to me and ripping me off and taking from my portion, whatever. I felt like I was taking steps in the right direction. 

Liz never knew any of this. Turns out, she had suspicions all along by how I acted, looked, occasional money issues, or her wondering why I was leaving the house sometimes. Most of that was due to my second life. I kept this all from her because I didn’t want to pull her in. Having social support was something I always wanted, but I know the stigma, judgement, embarrassment for asking for help, and everything else kept me from doing that. 

I convinced myself I was going to do this on my own. That I’d fix this, and move forward with Liz without ever looking back. I had gotten clean 3 times for drug tests, vacations, and other things, but ended up right back in it because I may not have wanted it to stop and endure the shit of withdrawals at all so that I could continue functioning, and so that I could be the functional person I needed to be for my job, relationships, and friends.

But that second life ended and became my main life. I was caught. Liz found a stash and was pissed, with every right to be. I had fabricated stories to cover things up, lied about things, and probably acted a bit weird or messed up at times. She felt crazy convincing herself that she was overthinking things and that there was nothing to worry about, but she obviously knew for a lot longer than I thought. I thought I was so sneaky, that quitting would be easy, but I was wrong.

Fast forward to today. Liz and I are on an indefinite break or broken up. Kind of blurry there. She wants the best for me, but also won’t let her be with me for feeling like I lied to her to an extreme amount about something huge for a very long time. I don’t deny or disagree with any of that. This past Saturday, I was two weeks clean. She gave me the chance to fix things and work through it all. I was going through my camping supplies to prep for a surprise trip for her birthday in an effort for me to do more for her, and came across some lost old scraps. You know what happens next.

I fell back in. I didn’t think about it. I felt accomplished in my two weeks, but should have just thrown it out rather than enjoying it. She caught me there, and that was the last straw. She called my brother, parents, and next thing I know, my life is being flipped upside down and I was being driven to Fort Wayne for my parents to basically take custody of me until I was fixed. I hate that things ended up this way, but have accepted that it was probably needed. Doing this all on my own would have been much harder than doing it with support. Since then, I’ve come clean with my friends and family. Everyone was fairly stunned, but some were kind of just finally getting a confirmation that there was something going on when they thought they saw something weird. Arthur was one of them. He has had this plague a cousin of his and has saw the damage it can do. Beyond that, I practically trained him in safe drug use in college. He isn’t an idiot. He saw it in my eyes. He didn’t call me out, but even if he did, I probably would have denied it at that point.

Liz has decided to work on herself and become more confident and independent. I think that is great for her. I am without doubt scared of the idea of not being able to reconcile and losing her, but these are the consequences. I’m luckily still talking to her and we are civil, but she has drawn a line that she can’t fully trust me right now, and that if we were to ever get back together - it would be a long path of proving myself to her that I have changed. I wouldn’t want it any other way.

I feel at one of the lowest points of my life. Second half of my 20′s, and am living at home, crying daily, scared, and accepting I fucked a lot of shit up. I don’t know if I could have avoided this in any way beyond never doing it that first time. One time is enough to suck you in. 

I’m doing a lot to address this moving forwards. I’m identifying my vices, reviewing my coping mechanisms with stress, rewiring my brain so that I’m 100% honest always (whether that hurts me or not), letting my friends know of what has happened so that they can support me, push me, and watch me. I’ve removed contacts and cut ties with negative influences. And now I’m starting a blog to externalize any struggles I have. I will be inviting a small number of my friends to this to be able to see this as part of my open and honesty portion of change. 

Since I feel like I’m typing to myself, I’ll be putting it all out here. Cravings, feelings of weakness, failures, accomplishments, all of it. I invite everyone to comment and join me on this journey.

First post of many to come.