Did we all just rewind 10years?

So last night, I finished work for the festive period, packed up my car and drove 300miles home. I wanted to fly under the radar for the first few hours. There was a memorial for T this morning at half 8 so I decided to stay with an old friend (pre-drugs) and we had plans to reconnect for the rest of the day until I officially arrived at home.

Ts memorial was beautiful, tears had been banned. Everyone had to bring their favourite festive memory about the queen of Christmas. Yes, I did have to see all the same faces I wish to avoid so much but I also got to remember a truly incredible woman. We sang Christmas songs and I got through it without crying, I wasn’t really sad. I miss her so much but it was nice to remember the good times again. I lit a candle and I said a prayer for her. I’m still struggling with my connection with god but hers never wavered during her life so if he exists, he’ll have heard me for her.

So then Cane and I left the memorial and headed out for coffee to catch up properly and we get barely seated when I get a phone call from my younger brother. Mum and Dad were in a fight, the police were there and how far away was I? I wanted to be selfish and lie, I wanted to say I was still a few hours away and continue enjoying my day. I’ve been through so much with my parents over the years. It’s Christmas for heavens sake. However, I told him I would be right over and made my apologies.

I arrived to the usual scene, things smashed, broken on the floor, shouting and the police stood while my dad packed his things. What happened? She asked him to put some stuff away, he launched the key over the fence and threw stuff around in a strop. She did nothing to encourage that, I doubt it but I only got half the story as my dad left as I arrived. There were no bruises and blood this time so I guess I should be thankful for that.

I’ve listened today to the fact they’ve both changed and they were trying to find a way to live without contact in the same house. I’ve listened to the fact that they’re both just such different people. If they are so different, why couldn’t they just separate discreetly, without police interference and without all the drama. We all know in 2 months time they’ll have found their way back to one another, completely changed and ready to try again for the 9millionth time.

This has been happening once a year for as long as I can remember and I am bored of it. I mean in comparison to the past, this is a hell of a lot more civil considering no physical contact was made and no plots are in place to destroy each other (hopefully I’m not speaking too soon). I’m trying to lend a sympathetic ear but all I want to do is repack my car and go back to Scotland, miles from the drama. My mum and brother are drinking in excess and although tempting I am managing to restrain for now. My older brother does not yet know as he’s spending his Christmas with the in laws and we are not ruining it for him. I am to keep up appearances, I’m attending every family function with the fake smile plastered on my face and the pretence that my dad has to work. My dad is at a house they’ve been working on (they both develop properties for rent or sale) and he’s alone for Christmas. He doesn’t want to see anyone and I don’t know whether to respect his wish or visit anyway because it’s Christmas and he is my dad.

So merry Christmas Eve eve everyone, hopefully yours is better than mine.

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Merry Christmas

Today is Christmas Day in our household, as I drive back down south at the weekend to spend actual Christmas with my family so we do it early as my best friend is working the real thing.

Anyway I am known for being the Queen of Christmas, I used to love the festivities. It has always been my favourite time of year but the last 5 or 6 I’ve forced my festivity. I don’t think anyone has been able to tell. I work hard to keep up this pretence.

6 years ago, in 2012, Christmas was easy. I was high, I used to call cocaine my Christmas spirit and I’d mix it with pills and alcohol which made it go by in a flash. I don’t really remember very much of that year, I know I was working for a few hours on the actual day but the rest of it is a blur. My family are heavy drinkers, especially during the festive period, so they didn’t notice what was happening.

5 years ago, 2013, Christmas was the hardest I’ve ever had. I was clean and sober, 6months so and I worked hard to be happy. My Grandad passed away that Christmas Day, early in the morning and I don’t cry in front of my family. I never have. I deal with my emotions later once I’ve helped everyone else. So I slapped on the fakest smiles and I went about working on the best Christmas ever. My mum drank away the pain of losing her father and everyone else tried to hold back tears to enjoy the period together.

4 years ago, 2014, I had to work away in London. I only had to pretend to be festive for the 30minute phone call to them that day. I remember feeling very depressed and isolated at that time, at least when I was faking the festivities I had my family.

3 years ago, 2015, I had one of the best Christmases, my 2 friends invited me back to their flat after work. We drank and played stupid games, we ate Chicken Kiev’s and spring rolls and laughed so much. I loved it, I was still sad, but I managed to get lost in the festivities.

2 years ago, 2016, it was my first Christmas home in a long time. I worked endlessly on the Christmas menu, on choosing my gifts. I had a small present opening in Scotland which was amazing, a small care package from my best friend to get me through. I drove home for Christmas on Christmas Eve and I sang Christmas songs at the top of my lungs all the way. It was good fun, we laughed and smiled. There was always the air of sadness in the air but we forced ourselves through it and I came back on the 27th.

Last Christmas, 2017, we had a Scottish Christmas in November as a friend of ours was going back to France in early December. We opened daft gifts, drank, ate party food, played games and watched Christmas movies. It was awesome. It was so much fun and I didn’t feel the sadness once, except when my boyfriend at the time didn’t show up, but I put it to the back of my mind and I enjoyed my friends company. My boyfriend and I discussed him coming to my parents house on Boxing Day and meeting everybody. I met his mum the weekend before Christmas. He didn’t come to my staff Christmas party and he sent me a weird message asking me to come over, even though he knew I was out. I was sceptical but he promised me it was nothing. I hated myself for questioning him, I blamed my exes. I blamed myself. We exchanged gifts, his dad had died the year before and he had been trying to find his dads harmonica. I bought him one, engraved with his dads initials. He cried, he gave me a generic bath set but I tried not to be disappointed. On December 21st, he told me he had cheated on me the night of my staff Christmas party. I drove home that Christmas and everyone asked about my boyfriend, this great guy I hadn’t shut up about and I had to tell them we’d broken up. It was humiliating. Christmas was more forced than ever and there were so many people in our house that year I had a sofa to sleep on and nowhere to escape off to for some breathing time.

So Merry Christmas everyone, hopefully this year is better. The candle we light for absent friends, holds even more memories than it did last year which saddens me but I’m trying to feel the festivity. I used to love Christmas, it was a huge part of who I was and I’ve never wanted to give that up. I love the lights, the decorations, the movies and the songs. If anyone has any idea how to get through it without drugs, alcohol and sadness then I’d love to hear it. If not I hope you all have a fantastic Christmas, I truly do. It’s a magical time of year when anything can happen, I’m just waiting on my magic

X

Happy Birthday T

I know I just posted a post I’ve been working on for a few days but tonight I need to wish my friend T a happy birthday. As some of you know she passed away this year after overdosing. I’m so lost without her and when I think of her sometimes I struggle to find air. She was a truly incredible person and someone I hope to one day be like. She was kind and caring. She used to work alongside charities and help people get the help they needed, mostly with addicts and young addicts specifically but she wouldn’t leave someone to find their way if they needed other kinds of help.

Today she’d have been 28 years old. They say the good die young, god that is so true. I hate addiction, I hate that day in day out I am constantly battling mine but I also hate it for the people it took from me. I’m angry that she helped me get clean the first time around in 2013 and I couldn’t help her during this final slip she had. I hate my ex Carl for coming between us and I hate myself for letting him, not fixing what I should have so long ago.

If she were here today, I’d apologise, our fight was petty and she had so much more to teach me before she died. I’ve lost out on being there the day she gave birth to her son, I’ve missed out on his life. Chase John was born almost 2 years ago and was named after great friends of ours who also died. I’m so angry and sad he won’t know her, that although we’ll all speak of her to him that he’ll never remember her laugh. Or that he’ll only know her face from photographs. The life he could have had was robbed from him and I will always be angry about that. She was an incredible mum, she was to all of us when we were teenagers, she fussed over us and set us on our paths, Chase deserved that too.

So happy birthday T, I genuinely hope there’s something out there for you after this life, something better with less heartache and battles. We’re all keeping an eye out on your boy and having a brew thinking of you today, wherever we are in the world. I’ll have Aerosmith or The Beatles on in the car in the morning, and I’ll try not to cry when I hear them this time. I don’t want our happy memories tarnished with my sadness, you wouldn’t have wanted that either.

Xxxx

Do you ever get the temptation to take drugs again?

My best friend’s sister is an addict, she was addicted to cocaine for a short time a couple of years ago. She sent me this message the other night, quite late and I was asleep. I recognised it immediately as a cry for help. But this is the following morning. I’m 300 miles away and I’m at a loss. Do I tell him she asked? I tell him everything but right now this was just a cry for help, not a relapse and he’s not exactly the best person at handling her addiction. We have a rule, if he thinks something’s up, he rings me first and I help him strategize. I decided not to tell him and reply to her honestly and hope to receive the same back, reminding her I’m at the end of the phone if she needs me and he will be there for her too.

So for anyone who’s recently clean or a family member looking to hear about it, do I ever get the temptation to take drugs again?

The simple answer is yes. I’m tempted when I’m happy, it used to be my way to celebrate and I’m tempted when I’m sad. I want to take them when I’m frantically busy and also when I’m bored with nothing to do. I struggle to socialise without the nagging feeling to take the edge off and if I’m all alone I think about it too. The truth is once you’re clean, it never goes away. I hope with time the feeling fades a lot more because sometimes it’s stronger than others but reality is every move I’ll ever make in life, I’ll have to choose not to take drugs with it. When the feeling becomes too much and I feel like I’m suffocating, I detox my life. I try to remove stress, even if that means being selfish because I can’t be there for anyone if I can’t be there for me. I try not to isolate myself, this doesn’t mean I force myself to visit people or go out partying but I reach out, at least to one person just to remind myself I have people counting on me. I remind myself why I’m clean. Why I choose this life? The good things that have come from my sobriety that wouldn’t if I had chose a different path. Sobriety is hard. Fighting the addiction is hard but it is so worth it in the long run. I wish I could take back my relapse in October because I gained nothing from it, except the certainty that I have a problem and it wasn’t just the lack of self control of my adolescence. But if I’d stayed clean I’d be coming up for 5 and a half years clean. I’ll get there again and even pass that point this time!

As for my friends sister, she got through it and I’ll check in when I get back and help her keep fighting because you’ve got to have people who know what it’s like on your side. I have an incredible sponsor who kicks me up the backside when I need it. I have some great friends at meetings. I also have the best friend I could ask for, he may not be great when it comes to his sister’s addiction but when I relapsed he caught me before I fell back to rock bottom. I’ll be forever grateful for that.

Thanks for reading.

I miss you

My friend T died this year, I’ve mentioned it a few times but walking around the place we both grew up makes me miss her so much more than when I’m at home 300 miles away. I keep expecting to see her popping in through my bedroom like she did numerous times when we were younger.

I met T at a party I went to when I got with Andy, she was like a big sister or a mum to me. She took me out of the way when I started to cry after an argument with him and taught me how to keep myself out of too many arguments with him. She never did understand why I was with him but she accepted it was my choice and so decided to do damage control instead. When Shawn died, she led us all through the grief. When Chloe died, she brought us all together and taught us all to focus on moving forward. When Chase died, she left. She went to rehab and got clean, she felt like something needed to change and she had to be the start of that. Once she was clean she came back for me, she dragged me to a meeting and eventually she helped me on my road to recovery. She then moved around our group of friends helping them find their path forward. When John died she blamed herself and it’s the one that hit her the hardest because she felt it completely sober with no drug to help her escape. As did I. And after we had all dealt with our grief in any way we could she moved away, constantly in our contact but to make a life for herself away from all the pain and memories.

Our lives took us down different paths to a similar path and eventually we fell out over a guy. Our loyalty to each other there in some way but also a lot of anger keeping us apart. She fell off the wagon and I tried to be there for her without forgiving her which was stupid and immature. We never did clear the air. This year after 3 attempts of rehab and the fear of losing her son, she overdosed. I’ll never know for sure if it was accidental or if she chose to take her life and I’ll never get to clear up the stupid fight we had.

Sometimes you get so lost in the anger of a silly argument that you can’t realise how stupid you are being and the time you are losing out on. I’d give anything to bring her back, I’d give anything for her to climb through my bedroom window right now or for her to lecture me like she did when I was younger. If there’s someone in your life that you’re fighting with, please think it through. If they died tomorrow and you guys never sorted things out, is that okay with you? Because that guilt doesn’t go away if they go before you do. Put your pride aside and reach out, at least know you tried. I really wish I had.

So much to say…

So I haven’t spoken on here for a while, a couple of weeks ago I was rushed into an emergency eye surgery and I’ve been recovering on my parents sofa. Nothing major, it’s painful but manageable and super boring.

However, now I’m back in my home town it’s given me to ability to face some more demons from my past. So I finally got around to facing my ex Andy, who I’ve spoken about in many of my past posts. We met for coffee a couple days ago and I have felt more emotions in these days than I’ve felt about him in the 8 years since we broke up.

We met in a coffee shop near my parents house, I’ve never been there, it’s a small family run place, we sat in a small booth in the back and I drank my small coffee out of a chipped cup. I was nervous, I have been ever since I considered meeting with him. He’s older now, same build, same haircut, if I squint my eyes it’s as if the last 8 years melt away.

I met Andy when I was 14, he was 19. We were friends at first, he made a move on me when I was 14 but I pushed him away, wanting our first time to be more special and he apologised saying it was wrong and he was sorry. We finally got together on my 15th birthday when he was 20. I felt so much older than I was and so I didn’t see that it was wrong. At first he was this sweet kind boy who was hilarious and full of sarcastic comments. Eventually he was cold and cruel, controlling and powerful, he had a group of boys who did anything he asked of them and lots of people in the estate they lived was afraid of him. He ruled by fear and that’s how he was as a boyfriend also. He was terrifying. I acted as if I wasn’t afraid of him and I could do what I pleased, at parties he’d go off and sell drugs and while he was busy I’d be free to do whatever I wanted, so long as I didn’t draw too much attention to myself. If I did, I usually get beat slightly or he put me down so much I’d hate myself. I used drugs to numb this and make it all go away, it’s when my drug problem began.

I had been in love with my good friend Kane, before i met Andy but I was afraid to tell him how I felt and I’d got with Andy instead. Kane told me how he felt and kissed me when we were out with our friends from school. It terrified me, I knew Andy would hurt him if he ever found out so I pretended I didn’t feel the same way and tried to push him away. He was quite upset about it and one night when I was at a party with Andy, he showed up to try to change my mind. Andy overheard me trying to reject him nicely and lost it. He beat him so badly, I was scared Kane would end up in hospital or that Andy wouldn’t stop. Eventually my friend T dragged him off of Kane and I helped him out of the party, he was a mess. He told me i deserved better and he’d help me get out but I knew he couldn’t so I told him I was fine, that I loved Andy and he loved me. I was kidding myself.

Things then hit a low point, our friend Chase died and Andy pushed me away, I’d spent the last couple years trying to be everything he needed me to be and although I probably should’ve used this as my way out, I needed his attention now more than ever. So I forced happiness between us. I’d hang out with him even though he spent most of his time ignoring me and pretending I wasn’t there. He started using needles too, he knew this was something I hated so he hid it from me, going to the caravan with his friends to do it behind my back. People told me that was what he was into now but I chose to believe him not them. One night I went over to the caravan to see him and found him and friends shooting up. I felt so betrayed and all the emotions of the previous months were all floating to the surface and I just lost it. I never had an outburst with him, mainly because I was scared to and so this was the first time. He lost it, he grabbed me and wrestled me to the ground, holding me down with his whole body he injected me with something, I have no idea what. Luckily some friends had decided to check in on me and half carried – half dragged me out of there.

I still stayed, mostly out of fear but somewhat out of love. I didn’t know how to leave, I thought he’d kill me. I’d seen him really hurt lots of people and I knew he wasn’t just going to let me off lightly.

I told him all of this the other day, he tried to convince me that he never meant to hurt me because he honestly did love me. 3 different women who were all underage when they dated him are now pressing charges and he is being investigated. I don’t want to press charges, I don’t care that what he did was illegal it didn’t feel like it was. I’m fully aware that it was illegal and wrong. I told him I want nothing from him, I just want him to understand what he did to me and I wanted to face him and not be afraid. I wasn’t afraid, I don’t see him as this big scary man anymore, I see him as a pathetic weak man who intimidated young girls to feel a sense of power. I feel sick when I think of him. I asked him to please never contact me again, to which he agreed. He didn’t apologise, still believing our relationship wasn’t wrong and that he loved me in the only way he knew how but I was a kid and I deserved so much better.

He introduced me to drugs, I’m not saying he is the reason I became addicted but he is part of the reason I am an addict. Each time I face a demon from my past I feel a little bit more like the person I’m aiming to be and I’m setting my standards for the future much higher than they once were.

When I first sat in that coffee shop the other day, all I could think of was drinking or taking something to numb the fear but I didn’t use or drink. I sat there and I took it all in sober and then I walked out of there with my head held high. I’m struggling being back here, I know more dealers and people still living that life here, when the boredom sets in it’s all I think about. However I am staying with my parents, 2 people very unaware of the person I have been in the past and I’m not about to disappoint them now so I spend my early mornings on the phone to my sponsor and my afternoons I try to surround myself with family because when I’m with them I’m distracted from drugs or drink. Being back here also shows me how far I’ve come, in the past I’d be sneaking around and ruining my life all over again but instead I’m keeping doors I once closed, still closed and using my free time to plan for my future.

Thanks for reading.

So I got my 30 Days

So on Saturday I got my 30days and I was supposed to celebrate with my sponsor and a few NA friends. I used to think if I got 30days again I’d feel together in my life, I’d feel in control and things would be easier. This was in fact not the case.

My flatmate inhaled carbon monoxide at work so instead of going and celebrating my 30days, I drove him to hospital to get checked out. I mean the fact I was clean and sober enough to do so shows how far I’d come in those 30days. The next day his younger sister wet her pants at school and I had to go and get her and get her changed. Then take her and her brother to some fireworks to give his mum af break.

I’m responsible again. I’m helpful again. And somehow I feel more like myself than I have in a really long time. I’ve slept for 3 nights on the run, which is something to celebrate let me tell you.

It’s only 30days and when everyone at my meeting was applauding it, I was angry. I shouldn’t have slipped in the first place let alone had to redo my first 30days sober but I did. I messed up. And the last few months have been incredibly hard so I should count the state I’m currently in as something to be proud of and not something to begrudge myself of. Everyday I don’t take drugs or have a drink, that is a good day.