rickssoberjourney

[rickssoberjourney]

Some mornings, I wake up positive and ready to face the typical crap that faces everyone including me. There are other days when the sunrise brings despondency but within a few hours, "The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow," attitude takes over. That's not the case today. This morning, I feel crushed by everything and nothing like I just don't want to try anymore. I don't see me wanting to continue to endure. There are going to be ups and downs but I 'm tired of being up only to know that inevitably, another down is coming. I just can't handle that anymore. I'm tired. I'm fatigued . I'm beaten...I'm done.

[rickssoberjourney]

Mom is 90. I'm an only child. My dad is gone. My three kids are in town, but too far away to be of any help very quickly. So, mom needs me.

I have been bothered by my mom's support of the Republican Party. I can't believe that the woman who raised me to love and respect others and who stressed that honesty is of supreme importance could support The Party of Lies.

Today, I got a chance to spend some time helping her shop for a dress for my oldest son's wedding. As I help her frail hand in mine, I realized just how lucky I am to have had her as my mother. Tears filled my eyes.

We talked about everything. I challenged some of her reasoning about current political goings ons. Again, I felt the love for my mom rise in me...and I got scared. The closer I get to her, the more acutely aware I am of our "last act". I will have to say good bye at some point in the very near future. My job right now is to love her and help her and to help both of us to be strong when we have to say goodbye.

[rickssoberjourney]

My psychiatrist tells me that my using crystal is hindering the effectiveness of the medications that I take to control my Bipolar condition. I have very benign hallucinations. No pink elephants dancing through my living room or voices telling what to do. They are subtle, as to be almost unintelligible. But, I was told that continued use could make the hallucinations worse. Well, a few nights ago, it happened.

I went to bed and the sounds of the traffic outside was unusually noisy. It kept getting louder and more annoying. I asked my husband if he could hear it. He said that he could, but it wasn't as annoying as I was describing it. I don't know how to describe it, but it got louder and louder. The sounds of the ice maker and the heater coming became frightening. In a half-sleeping state, I remember grabbing my head and pleading for it to stop. What was scary was the thought that somewhere in the noise was the message from somewhere or someone that I was truly as bad as I thought that I was and that I should just give up. I was scared shitless...

So what did I do the next day? I partied with my friends. Stupid.

[rickssoberjourney]

How am I ever going to get out of this mess! I want to quit...I don't want to quit...and so on, and so on, and so on. It's circular. I go back and forth wanting to quit crystal. I party all night, having the time of my life, spun, naked with other guys, and having sex with any hole that will have me. It's a blast. I will admit that I love it! Until the next day.

Whenever I rise, or not rise because I've been up all night, the aches and pains of the previous night's debauch begin. My stomach is sick, probably from the G. I'm twitching and I find it hard to stay still, probably from the T. The inside of my mouth is torn up and it hurts. My lips are seriously chapped. My tongue is always just slightly sticking out of my mouth. The tips of my fingers and the palms of my hands hurt, probably due to lack oif blood. I mope around the house, just getting by, wishing that I could vomit but knowing that it wouldn't help. The meth is in my blood. Like an alcoholic I promise that I'll never do that again. "You have to quit!" I tell myself, but I know that I won't listen.

A few days ago by and most of the after-effects of my night out have abated. Then that little voice in the back of my mind starts it's arguement. "Next time, I'll just take it easy. I won't take as many hits and I'll cut down on the G. Yeah, that should fix things." But it won't. It never does.

So where do I go from here? Easy: start over at the beginning and do it all over again...one...more...time. Id on't know what I'm waiting for. Maybe some stone tablets from on high to tell me exactly what I need to do. But, I already know what I need to do: quit!

I am sure that anyone in my situation would go through much of the same scenario. I try to comfort myself with that thought. But It isn't much comfort. How do I bring the "I can't do this anymore" together with the "I can just cutback, practice "harm reduction" I can't have both, no matter how much I would like to kid myself that it would.

[rickssoberjourney]

Man, what an anxiety producing 24 hours. Bruce ended up in the ER. His BP was dangerously low. It turned out that he was terribly dehydrated. Boy! It takes something like this, where you face the possible death of your husband, to make you realize just how much you love him. I need to show my love more so that he knows that I love him.

[rickssoberjourney]

I just want to give up. I can't see my way out of this. Thee are too many reinforcement contingencies that have been reinforced over and over again. I just want this to stop. I just got done partying all night and then again all day today. My heart is pounding. Weird bubbles in my bowels. Shaking. A feeling like burned flesh that lines my lungs. I feel so hopeless right now that It's all I can do To do anything that will end the pain. Right now, I want to take some pill or something that will just let me slip away and not have to feel this anymore.

[rickssoberjourney]

This is one of those mornings that I wish I could go to sleep and never wake up. I have bounced back. Should I say up and down so fast that it’s almost making my kids been. I keep thinking of myself, “how long can I keep this going. How many times can I bounce back-and-forth before I alienate everyone around me?”the worst part is I know what’s causing it. And I don’t do anything about it. I choose to keep going with what’s hurting me. I thought it was a smart guy. I guess I was wrong.

[rickssoberjourney]

God help me and everyone around me because I am in full Tasmanian devil mode!

[rickssoberjourney]

"There are tears filling my eyes right now because for a brief moment, I was able to see myself the way he sees me...through his eyes..."

I wrote this passage this morning. After a horrible night, I woke up to a very loving passage that Bruce chose to send to me. He does this often but every once in awhile something he chooses really hits the mark. This was one of those passages.

It all started about 36 hours ago on Thursday evening. Bruce, party. That meant that we would be smoking T and doing several rounds of G. High and horny all night long. Jim had to leave around 3 am Friday morning. Randy left with him so that he could be dropped off at home. That left Bruce and me. We smoked a bit more which guaranteed that we wouldn't sleep at all.

We made it through the Friday morning. In the afternoon, I started the crash and burn. I had stayed up all night long many times, but this time was different.

In the afternoon, some strange things began happening. I had be putting up with visual hallucinations before, in fact, they were are daily occurance now. The were clear Keith Haring drawings. When they first began, they were faint like watermarks.Now, they were heavier, more distinct, and were with me almost all day every day. Frankly, the are beginning to scare me.

That afternoon, things got worse. The visual hallucinations took on a frightening change. I was looking at a grid of head shots on Grindr. I'd looked at them hundreds of times before only now they were moving, as if animated. I didn't say anything to Bruce. I went into the bedroom to watch TV. Bruce was on the bed so I lay down with him.

As we watched a movie, the colors appeared all wrong and the actors looked like claymation. My skin crawled. I asked Bruce if he saw something strange and as he told me that he didn't see anything out of the ordinary, he realized what I was asking. He saw you face go white and he knew that I was hallucinating.

I was exhausted and I fell asleep. As if the hallucinations weren't enough, the usual mouth irritations, the burns on the inside of my cheeks, the burns and sores on my tongue, and severely chapping lips took over. I was miserable. I couldn't eat because almost all foods burned when they touched my injured mouth. At some point, I had some mashed potatoes, a croissant with cream cheese, and some Body Armor for hydration. All I remember from that point on is restlessness which lasted all night long until 6 am this morning. That's when I awakened to the passage that Bruce had left for me.

I read it and I cried. Actually, I sobbled. The passage said simply that he loved me, no matter what. No matter how dire the circumstances, he would stand by me because he loved me. It's a humbling feeling when someone gives you grace...a gift that is freely given you you deserve no such gift. I couldn't earn it, and yet Bruce gave it to me. That gift was unconditional love.

In my response, I told how I thought that if he loved me with the depth that he did, he was either crazy or he really loved me. He loved me inspite of the shit that I put him through everytime, I cycled down. Then, in the depths of desparir, a glimmer of hope shone through...maybe Bruce wasn't crazy or a liar. Maybe he really did love me...I wondered how long that hope would last before it was swallowed up by my darkening mind once again. Tonight, I had my answer.

I could feel myself changing. Like Mr. Hyde turning back into Dr. Jekyll, my attitude of self-importance slowly began creeping back. I began to britle at stupid little things. I asked Bruce to help me clean up the dirty dishes. I had finished making the dinner that I was going to serve to Jim and Brian that evening. He cheerfulling agreed to do the dishes so that I could work on a chocolate cake with chocolate ganache frosting and crushed peppermints as decoration. Everything irked me but I think I hid it pretty well.

Right now, I'm typing this journal entry in the dark. Beside me, Bruce is softly snoring in the dark that is lit only by the laptop screen. Surrounded by darkness, mirroring my every-darkening mood. I guess I have my answer. The glimmer of light that gave me a little hope that maybe love had rescued me was gone.

That didn't take long, did it?

It never does.

#psychosis #Meth #G #hopelessness #rescueme #canIholdon

[rickssoberjourney]

Bruce leaves me things like this all the time. I usually just give it a heart and move on. I couldn't do that this morning. I read it and tears came. That same old dread: if he loves me like this, he must be stupid! I feel this way all the time. After all of the ups and downs of bipolar shit, after all of the nasty comments that were not deserved, and the paranoid accusations of unfaithfulness, if he says that he loves me like this, he's either a liar or just plain stupid. Maybe he figures that at his late age I'm the best he can do so he better stick around so at least he won't be alone. It just can't be true that he can love this damaged, fucked up mess...can he? There are tears filling my eyes right now because for a brief moment, I was able to see myself the way he sees me...through his eyes...

...then in a flash, I'm blind again.

Oh, my God! This endless cycle begins again!

How many times can I take this?

Until I can't take it anymore?

#desperate #black #hopelessness #he loves me

[rickssoberjourney]

I've been thinkng about hhow I want this journal to be. I've decided that Im just going to write down the day's happenings unless something significant happens.

Today didn't start so well. It started on Tuesday. Bruce and I went to bed a little early so that we could have some playtime.

We went to bed and decided to smoke a little. Abouy 1 am I noticrd that Bruce had gotten a text from a guy that had been avoiding me. Bruce and I argued because he thought that I had no reason to be upset with my friend. It turned into a familiar heated discussion.

I ended up on the couchchatting with guys from all over. I blew a few clouds and played with myself Until about 5:30. That's when I met Jr.

Jr. Is a 36 year old chef in Palm Springs. He was friendly and a lot of time. We blew a few more cloud then it was time to go.

My mom needed to go to the store so we did. Now I'm home waiting my video appointmnt

[rickssoberjourney]

Do I want to quit. NO! Well, yes I do. NO I DON'T. I know that there are all of the health issues. Blood pressure. Meth Mouth. Brain damage. Yes, I need to quit...but (like a spoiled child!), I DO NOT WANT TO QUIT!

My God, Why? I like it. Plain and simple, I like how I feel whenb I take that first hit. In seconds, I get very horny. I feel like Superman. My sex life with my husband has become hot. We attend group sex parties. We have developed a group of friends who use. We get together with that group on regular basis. I like the community that we have. Right now, I just don't want to give that up. Even in the face of a slough of bad health and social news, I continue. Why? I know, yet I don't.

[rickssoberjourney]

At times, I really hate the group of guys with which I associate. Tweakers...those people who use crystal meth (Tina, T, etc...) are not all alike. Many are lost souls. They have let the drug take over their lives. They have given up control of their decisions which are (drug induced) usually bad. Not every crystal user is a lost soul no matter what the media tell you.

I'm so sick of dealing with the tweakers that are so far gone that they are totally unreliable. They lie. They steal. They are always in turmoil and they bring that turmoil with them inyo their relationships.

I'm dealing with several of them at the moment and I've just about had it. Just to the boiling point just about now.

[rickssoberjourney]

Those Damned Voices

No, I am not really hearing voices. It is more like thoughts that had their genesis during my childhood. My dad loved me. He never physically harmed me. He was a great provider and I never wanted for anything. But I could argue that he psychologically damaged me. Oh, the thought he was doing the right things but he didn't realize is that his actions would scar me for the rest of my life. I believe that my "voices" were created by my father's actions.

Those voices never say nice things. The are abusive. They are insidious. They constantly tell me that I never quite measure up; that I am always lacking. They hiss at me that no one really likes or loves me. "You might think that your husband loves you, but he's weary of putting up with your emotional ups and downs. He doesn't really love you and you know it's true!"

I don't know why it happened, but yesterday I had what I think was a mental break down. My voices were relentless. I just couldn't shut them up. And it broke me. I sobbed for almost and hour. I couldn't shut them up. I convulsed, taking deep breaths in rapid succession so much so that I became dizzy. I couldn't shut them up. I grabbed my head with my hands and rocked back and forth like a crazy person (maybe I am crazy!). I couldn't shut them up. Those voices convinced me that I wa a failure at everything the way I parked my car to they way I fucked up the lives of my kids. Any time I start to feel a little bit proud of something I have done, those voices laugh and tell me, " Even if people gave you a compliment, you know deep down that hey were lying and just trying not to hurt your feelings." those voice have woven their way into every thread that makes up the fabric of my life. Now, take everything that you know about my voices and put them up against my struggle for sobrietry. You'll find that it is practically impossible to gather the strength every single day to fight my addiction only to hear a chorus of those damned voices telling me that I'll never be free of T...that I'm a dirty addict, not worth saving...that anyone one that says that they want to help? They are just trying to make me one more notch on the belds. It leaves me feeling hopeless.I'm going to leave it there and [ick up another day.

[rickssoberjourney]

At times, I'm not sure of my motivation. I'm supposed to be writing this journal for myself. I'm supposed to be noting things in my life that I think are important or, fun. But, knowing that someone might read what I write colors my choices of what and how I write. I'm not sure what to do. I guess I'll just move ahead.

[rickssoberjourney]

I woke up this morning thinking I was going to be sober. I really didn't make too far. As soon as Bruce left the house, I ran to the bedroom and got out the pipe and torch. I promised myself that I'd only take one hit. That didn't last long. I caved and hit the pipe. again. Again. Again. Now it's almost 2 pm and I'm uncomfortable, sitting, twitching on the couch feeling exhilerated and regretful at the same time. At times I wonder if I really like the electric feeling that my body has at the moment.Maybe I'm getting used to the twitching and the rapid thoughts. Maybe that's good and then again, maybe it's not.'

[rickssoberjourney]

Oh boy, things went to hell in a handbasket. I had a really strange reaction to a couple of those hits. I don’t know if it was a different strength or watt but I’m really acting kind of bizarre after taking those hits. Then, when I was at home Waking up from a nap, Bruce came in the house looking rather distressed. I asked him what was wrong and he said that he got some blood work back from Kaiser. I asked him why he looked upset and he didn’t look at me, but said I have gonorrhea. oh, to me it was really no big deal because I’ve had it before along with a host of other STI‘s. But this was new to Bruce and it upset him. I could talk all about Bruce and his stuff but frankly this is my blog I’m going to talk about me not Bruce . it did cause me to think, however, this social diseases are part of the territory. If you’re going to play without a condom social diseases, are the price you pay and I bet you anything if we continue on the track we’re on smoking crystals using G and the possibility of other drugs the stuff is going to continue and I don’t know.