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#getting sober

It’s day 3 of being sober. It’s not long but it’s the longest I’ve been sober since March. I’m in shock of how good I feel despite having withdraws and the fact that I haven’t even had the thought of going to pick anything up. I’m in desperate need for a change and I’m working so hard for it. I don’t want to go through this again. Ever again. I just want to keep taking steps. I want to push myself to take risks that could potentially better my life in different aspects. I just want more than I’ve been allowing myself to have.

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It’s been a week since I smoked weed and a month since I’ve drank alcohol!

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Day 2.

Being sober sucks ass.

I’m ashamed to admit this, but I’m pregnant and I’ve still been smoking everyday. Honestly, the only reason I’m finally stopping is because my doctor drug tested me at my 12 week appointment. Obviously my numbers were REALLY high and she’s going to keep drug testing me. I haven’t seen her since then, but she emailed me to tell me. And I have to go see her next week.

I’m scared.

But yesterday was my first full day being sober. It was really hard, I had a terrible headache alllll fucking day. Plus I could barely eat, because I always, always smoke before eating. I managed to sleep at night but I had the craziest dreams and woke up every single hour.

I thought day 2 would be easier but so far I feel way worse. I’m going crazy. But I’m pushing through because I don’t want to lose my baby.

Any tips to keep busy/distracted/anything would help.

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A goodbye note to Anger

We’ve heard it said that “when the pain of remaining the same becomes greater than the pain of changing, we will change.” Well that time has come my friend. Time to release the old, embrace the new, and grow. Friend? Ha! As if I could really consider you, my anger, as a friend. As a young boy who was never taught self control, it was easy for me to be deceived by the webs you would spin…you and your friends, fear and hatred that would join us so frequently throughout our journey.

Looking back on the memories of my life thus far, I find that most of those memories are what torture my mind today. And of those that do, you were always present. While hiding deep inside my dirty soul, you always seemed to have a knack for showing up at just the right time, and more so yet at just the wrong time. No amount of regret or shame could sway your presence, which was always so reassuring that things and thoughts would get better with another drink. And so I would take that next drink, and another, and another until that inner beast, caged only by fragile bars that you continually poke at with broken glass, would break free and begin its destructive run without stopping until he crashed and blacked out.

The look of fear and self hatred that I would get from the man in the mirror every next morning had me wearing my shame like a crown, and I wore it well. I despised that man, and would rather shatter the mirror than to see you peering through his eyes with a wide smile. Over time, that inner beast has had to learn to live with pain and learn to be restrained. Despite the pleading and gut wrenching screams heard only in the black of night while alone, it seemed that God himself was even unwilling to help. And so, scared to death of my own mind, I would hold the bottle like a gun to my head placing bets on how I would die.

The dark places you’ve taken me with this devil that you’ve befriended, had me feeling closer to death while looking for an unknown freedom at the bottom of each bottle. At times I would try to walk that narrow way of hope, only to find that one foot would step over the line and I’d be gone again till the next day. I’ve grown tired of trying to drag the world through my hell and leaving you in my control of my addiction. The cost of my living has been more than I had planned while hiding at the bottom of this well. That life has tried to kill me. I’ve stared death in the face of a mirror, in the face of a friend, and in the face of family.

Anger, fear, and hatred have always had me believing that there was a big price on my head and I’ve always tried to live the reputation of the words on my imaginary wanted poster. I’ve learned that it’s always been in my head, and the only way to stop that turning is to stop your antagonizing ways. To stop clinging to your distorted sense of security and safe embrace. I’ve been left with a bad tortured soul for the life I’ve lived and things I’ve done. And you’d have me believing that there was never a way out, you’ve always had fear on my shoulder to remind me of that every time I thought there might be.

But there is a way out, and it’s time for me to rise up. Rise above you and my fear and my hatred and my addiction. My eyes have been opened so that I can now truly see you and everything that you’ve never done for me. Though my hands now shake from the lack of alcohol, they hold my heavy head steady as I set aside my pride and start to unload the excess weight of guilt and shame. With my candle now burning at both ends, I am giving up on you and the belief that you control my life. It will take time to have me washed clean of you and regain complete control of myself again, but it will happen. And with the help and support of loved ones and faith in our heavenly Father, I have already begun to release you from your self binding chains. I look forward to a new and better life in my recovery and never having to see or hear from you again.

Goodbye and good riddance.

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4 days :)

Four days sober. The first time ever I feel good. Don’t get me wrong, it’s hard as hell. I have to fight temptation everyday. I’m still withdrawalling, but it’s worth it. To have a clear head. To remember things I thought I’d never remember. It has its ups and downs but being sober is the best choice I ever made.

To the addict still struggling… I love you. You are a great person. You have a disease and you can either die with it or from it. Be safe.

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Monday Morning Musings

I’ve had so much energy this last week. Too much even. I don’t know how to deal with it all. I feel like I’ve overdosed on speed.

I’ve been walking every day, plus have started barre3 again on a regular basis. I’ve really missed being a part of the classes and am so happy to be going.

It’s killing me though. It’s so damn hard, but I refuse to give up. I will be able to keep up in class again eventually. I just have to accept that it will take a while to get back in shape this time.

So far the side effects from having quit weed haven’t been too bad. If all this energy is the worst that I will have to deal with, I’m not complaining.

It’s been a whole week, yay!!

On to week two. This is when the crazy vivid dreams start to kick in. What fun.

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