Welcome...

What a freeing experience. To bear your soal to the judgement of others. I guess it happens everyday on some level. But "out there" you can choose to ignore it & play into the oblivian. But here... here is forever. It's there for the world to see, to feel, to critisize. This is something I need to do. You see, I am a recovering drug addict.
They say a secret shared is a secret split in half. So from time to time that is what I will do. Bare myself, my beauty, my ugliness, fears, demands, thoughts... just an honest open spirit. And if things are able to touch someone, help them, let them know they are not alone in the world, well then... I guess that is the blessing. You can only keep what you have by giving it away. Funny, huh? But so true.
So you may feel you "know" me, my story is a strange one...
My parents split when I was 6. My father was a drunk & my mother very emotional. When I was with my father he would leave me home alone to go to the bars, so from a very early age I kind of groomed myself to be independent. To take care of myself, etc. In later life I see how that has hindered my trust in people. For the longest time I didn't trust people... I figured I couldn't count on them to be there.
I started drinking & smoking weed when I was 10. - No, it's not a type-o...I was 10 years old. I was hanging around some young teens & they did things, so I did, too. Then I discovered it worked as a numbing device. I didn't have to be untrusting, or shy, or ashamed... I just was...it didn't matter. I liked that. Alot. As I grew older, my "friends" changed & so did my drugs. I got into acid & mushrooms for awhile while be-friending the modern day hippies. Soon after that I was snorting crystal-meth & when the high of that was boring, I met someone who shot it. They taught me how & it was over. The rush was unbelievable. I knew it was that forever. That was what I could count on... then I was introduced to heroin. So began my death. Dope was my love, my hate, my everything. I started using to mask feelings & to be accepted & to jsut not care, to do what I wanted. To have fun. Somewhere along the line it was no longer fun. It was consuming me. Killing me. I was committing suicide on the "instalment plan". I didn't want to do it anymore, but I was a hostage of it's misery. I used against my will. I was so dead inside I would pray for God to finish the job. I prayed to just end it. I didn't want to go on this way... I couldn't go on this way.
On October 31, 1999 God answered my prayers & that was the first day I did not use. I was sick. So sick. I thought I would die. I was freezing cold, but sweating. My bones felt as though they would twist out of my body. I was vomiting, I had dierrea, I was exhausted, but couldn't sleep... I thought death was coming. And really it did. I died & a new me was born. When I got through the sickness of withdraw, I went to a 12 step meeting & was scared. I had been using drugs in one form or another for almost 12 years. I wasn't sure how to live any other way. But over the past 6 years, one day at a time, I have been learning how to live that "new" way of life. I am so grateful for it all. The hell I walked through to get to where I am today. Everything happens for a reason.
So here I am... blogging. How funny. How nervey... Every once in awhile it crosses my mind that people will read this. People will read my story, they will read the random thoughts I write, it's all going to be out there. And once it's out there you can never take it back. Scarey. But oddly thereputic.
So I guess I'll end for now with, thanks for "listening", it's been real.