I dont want to continue this on a low note, but Ive avoided logging in here for over 2 months now, and for a good reason.
It feels like Im sitting in a confessional booth right now, Im scared and disappointed but mostly just.. a bit empty.
Here goes.
I made it two full weeks. Then, I visited my parents. I dont see them all that often, but they were going on holiday and I wanted to wish them a safe flight (they had a safe journey both ways and a lovely trip).
Problem is, my parents like having a casual beer, and it wasnt any different that evening. They invited me to drink with them, and at first I kept declining, but they started getting a bit worried and wondering if theyd done anything wrong. I was too ashamed to admit to my addiction, and I was feeling pretty confident in my ability to control my urges after two weeks of succeeding.
Should have listened to my gut.
I had a beer that evening, another one the next, and got completely shitfaced just two days after that initial glass. Granted, it was with my partner, who is an even bigger alcoholic than I am, but thats no excuse.
I went home, and tried again.
Crumbled like a soggy piece of paper after six days, and a particularly distressing day as a cherry on top.
When I woke up the next morning, April 27th, I wrote the following in my journal:
"
I thought I would be feeling awful right now. You know, filled with regret, swearing to all that is holy that I'll never drink again and This Time I will stay sober For sure.
I guess the universe hates me more than even I thought was possible.
I feel content. Contentment, if you will.
This subtle hangover, the sluggishness, the brainfog, it's all so familiar. Comforting, in a way.
There was a time when I woke up like this every morning, knowing that the next day and the day after that would start in the exact same way.
Now, nothing is promised.
Now, I live in constant fear of the craving, fear of slipping up, fear that the next drink will be the one to ruin me irrevocably.
I've got nothing left to say. I need breakfast."
I never wanted to share any of my journal pages with anyone, and most of them will remain behind closed doors until the end of time, but since I started writing this, the urge to share my thoughts and feelings has just been growing and growing. I hope whoever reads this can forgive me for the word vomit, Im just trying to catalogue all that has happened in the past couple of weeks.
Anyways, driven by an intense hangover and a deep self-hatred, I ended up taking LSD later that day, first just intending to microdose, only to end up riding a bike during my neighborhood at 1am thinking I was a lego figurine. Was my first time trying hallucinogens, 6/10, probably better when youre prepared and dont just do it on a whim.
The following weeks are a bit blurry. I lost faith in my ability to go through with my ambitions. Id have a couple drinks on the weekends, sometimes there was a party and Id have a couple more. I had speed during the week sometimes (where I come from thats just the word for amphetamines, essentially ritalin).
Thats probably the first substance I ever got properly addicted to, which makes the fact that my body seems to have developed an immune response towards it concerning and quite practical at the same time. Not worth the high when you spend the following couple of days with a killer headache and a fever that makes your limbs feel like theyre actively being bulldozed over.
The last time I did speed was eight days ago, after which I fell ill and, once again, reconsidered my life.
I started smoking weed again. Sparingly, about once a week at first, culminating in a five day streak that Im intending to break today. However, in return, things have been going better with the other substances. I attended a party last friday where copious amounts of alcohol were ingested and many lines snorted, and I managed to steer completely clear of both substances for the entire evening. Didnt start smoking until very late in the night either. This might not sound like much, but Ive never attended a party without drinking, and it was a huge deal for me. 9 days without alcohol, 8 without speed, 0 without cannabis.
Thats the tally.
I know Im just an internet stranger, and even if anyones still watching this thread youre unlikely to care, but I still want to apologize to the people who were rooting for me and cheered me on. I tried my best, and it wasnt enough.
So its time to reconsider my strategies.
I will keep steering clear of all substances, except for cannabis. For me, personally, its always been the easiest to quit, and the one least detrimental to my mental and physical health.
I will give myself a maximum of two weeks to stop smoking and get used to being completely sober again. Should be doable.
After that, Ill just stay strong. A little less doable.
Depending on how it goes, I might introduce a weekly cannabis cheat day, then gradually space them out to biweekly, monthly, and so on.
I know I can do it, I just need to try hard enough, and never lose sight of the endgoal no matter how dark it gets on the way there.
I am aware of the fact that its kind of stupid to lay out all my little drug adventures in a semi-public forum, including dates and timelines, but right now I really couldnt care less. I just need to get it off my chest.