Time marches on regardless
Yesterday I spent a lot of the day thinking about what I have been writing. My past, my present, my future. Mostly the past and the craziness that I am sharing with the world. I still worry about what others might think of me given all that I have done and been through. This is one of the major issues for a person in recovery. It is an area that I believe can be a great help and a major detractor for someone staying in recovery long term. We, as a society, have never, to this day, looked upon those with substance use disorders kindly. It has always been, lock them up! You know, the "drug war" that was begun in the 60's that runs through to this day, the "war" that has been waged against something that is a health problem? Yes, that one. The over trillion dollar failure that continues to this day.
Where were we? Oh yes, I tried crank of the mid 90's. The latest drug to wreak havoc on our nation. This is what happens. It's the latest drug with the latest high. Crank (meth) was it for the mid-90's. Crack was for sure still around, but, crank was taking hold and wasn't going to let go. A little education on why that was happening.
Crack is a highly addictive drug. Why? Because the high is very powerful. Massive euphoria in a very short period of time. Every feel good bone in your body is hit with the best feeling in the world. Yet, it is very short lived. The high itself lasts less than an hour at best. As you smoke more and more the life of the high is.......less and less.....thus, you have to smoke more and more to achieve a good high. Crack, while much cheaper than powder cocaine, did get very expensive in a short amount of time due to the need for more and more. For myself, it quickly became a couple hundred dollar a day habit in no time. It wears on you fast. You are constantly, and this is true for drugs in general, chasing that first high. Constantly.
Now, crank (meth) of the mid 90's hits the scene. It gives crack cocaine a run for it's money and.....wins. Most users first start out by snorting crank....at least this was the case then. One good line of crank, well, it would get you higher than high, and keep you there, for a good 12 hours. One line, the cost, a fraction of crack cocaine. You would be able to stay high on one small purchase of crank for a 24 hr period with no problem your first time using it. Just like crack though, your tolerance would wear and you would need more and more to achieve the same high. The high one gets from crank is different than crack. One, because it lasts much longer. At first, someone feels intense energy and euphoria. Sex drive goes through the roof and you feel the world is at your fingertips. You feel like you can accomplish anything. Mind you, this is all a fallacy. The drug gets you in it's grips and slams you to the ground and says "nope, you will accomplish nothing and damage much". It's not long before you are just addicted, if not much more, to crank as you were any other drug than you have ever ingested. To this point I had done most, and crank, well, it by far was the worst in many ways. For the purpose of getting back to my story I am leaving out many aspects of the effects of this drug on the human body and soul. Yet, you will hear, through my story, what I mean.
I have a journal dated 12/5/94 that has a line that says "I have let myself down in ways that only I can correct". Another one dated 12/7/94 that says: "I've stepped forward a lot and i've stepped backward. I want more than anything to keep stepping forward. I know how hard it is to step in the right direction, for i've done it so many times. I am once again sick of going back to what is the easiest."
This is when I was back in the battle of returning to use. The daily fight to get up each day and not use. I remember this being a time where I had returned to use of the drug crack and had met the new drug of the time, crank. The battle was fierce. Remember that I had the massive internal issues of my life as a 27yr old who had not met his goals of becoming someone he wanted to. I was pretty fresh out of a break up of a long term relationship, living in a place that was depressing, and, most recently, was again unemployed due to my behavior when using drugs and alcohol.
Journal entry dated 12/9/94: "The pressure to do what I know is best for me is great right now. I am fighting many urges to do what I now would just leave me feeling guilty. I've lost some will power and I am fighting myself to get it back with a quickness. I can resist the urge, I am better than what I am telling myself"
What happened between that journal entry and the next is one that haunts my memory to this day and runs chills through my body as I write this.
I had started seeing a woman who lived in a house that disgusts me just thinking about it. It was not a good place for anyone to be in. Yet, in the drug world, it was THE place. Lot's of traffic in and out, drug deals, and people up all hours of the night. Ugly scenario. Here I am dating someone who, like me, was in active addiction. We usually did our drugs in an upstairs room in the house. It's just what we did. Go upstairs, do the drugs, carry on....blah blah blah. On this one particular evening her and I decided that we were not going to do that. We decided that we were going to try to resemble some type of normalcy and sit downstairs in the livingroom. It was Christmas time and I remember there being a tree up. We, her and I, and a few other people, were sitting in the livingroom. It isn't to late in the evening that I remember. I DO remember it was a foggy evening. I remember walking to the store prior and getting a weird feeling about the night. You can hear a car pull up outside. Not unusual for this house. Cars came and went frequently. Yet, this one was different, it didn't shut off right away.........and then......BANG BANG BANG!
Shots rang out and we all hit the floor. Complete terror in my mind. I, and I to this day don't know how, grabbed the phone on my way to the ground, and called 911. The 911 operator came on right away and I told her the house had just been shot at and I can still hear the car outside. I was scared to death. The girl is screaming her lungs out. She went in the room where her children were sleeping and they were ok. The 911 operator stayed on the phone and told me officers were on the way to stay on the phone. I wasn't going anywhere. I was as close the floor as I could get and wasn't moving. I could still hear the car running outside....scared out of my mind. After just a few minutes the 911 operator says officers are outside, I say I can still hear the car, I am scared. She says I am going to hear a knock on the door and to open it, it is the officers. I am confused out of mind because, in my mind, the car that shot at the house is still outside. She said they are coming up to the porch and will be knocking on the door, I hear a knock. I am still to scared to get up, no one else is moving. She assures me it is the officers....I hear them say the words "police, open the door"......I finally get up and open the door. It is the police,
Now, not a big surprise here, they knew the house. They had been here before. Drug house, lots of traffic, people up all hours of the night. They knew the house well. I remember the look on their faces. Looks of frustration. I tell them a car pulled up and shot at the house. Another officer shines his light at the front of the house and says he doesn't see any bullet holes......they are just about to leave in disgust and one of the other officers decides to shine his flashlight at the second floor of the house......riddled with bullet holes. They came in and officers head upstairs. I am in disbelief at this revelation. Utter disbelief. And.....now we are all in fear about the officers heading upstairs. The drug room.
A few minutes later they come down and say a bunch of mirrors, and glass, was broken everywhere. They don't say much after that, get information from us, and leave. This night will live in my memory for all of my days. All of my days.
I don't follow any religion. That's just me. I don't know if there is an all encompassing being out there or not for sure. I do know something was watching over me that night. I know something was watching over the children who were in a room sleeping that night and didn't die as a result of the chaos that surrounded them on that night and every other night during their lives.
In closing, for this writing, I feel massive remorse for my role in those children being around drugs and craziness. I don't know where they are today. Adults somewhere in the world. I do know, later in my story, when I get into recovery, I ran into their mom, she was getting into recovery. My hope is she still is in recovery and those children have been able to have healing from this time and many others.
I am grateful every day this month, and every other month, to be able live a life in long term recovery. I will spend everyday of my life doing what I can to help others experience the same. Out of the darkness into the light.
More tomorrow.
Where were we? Oh yes, I tried crank of the mid 90's. The latest drug to wreak havoc on our nation. This is what happens. It's the latest drug with the latest high. Crank (meth) was it for the mid-90's. Crack was for sure still around, but, crank was taking hold and wasn't going to let go. A little education on why that was happening.
Crack is a highly addictive drug. Why? Because the high is very powerful. Massive euphoria in a very short period of time. Every feel good bone in your body is hit with the best feeling in the world. Yet, it is very short lived. The high itself lasts less than an hour at best. As you smoke more and more the life of the high is.......less and less.....thus, you have to smoke more and more to achieve a good high. Crack, while much cheaper than powder cocaine, did get very expensive in a short amount of time due to the need for more and more. For myself, it quickly became a couple hundred dollar a day habit in no time. It wears on you fast. You are constantly, and this is true for drugs in general, chasing that first high. Constantly.
Now, crank (meth) of the mid 90's hits the scene. It gives crack cocaine a run for it's money and.....wins. Most users first start out by snorting crank....at least this was the case then. One good line of crank, well, it would get you higher than high, and keep you there, for a good 12 hours. One line, the cost, a fraction of crack cocaine. You would be able to stay high on one small purchase of crank for a 24 hr period with no problem your first time using it. Just like crack though, your tolerance would wear and you would need more and more to achieve the same high. The high one gets from crank is different than crack. One, because it lasts much longer. At first, someone feels intense energy and euphoria. Sex drive goes through the roof and you feel the world is at your fingertips. You feel like you can accomplish anything. Mind you, this is all a fallacy. The drug gets you in it's grips and slams you to the ground and says "nope, you will accomplish nothing and damage much". It's not long before you are just addicted, if not much more, to crank as you were any other drug than you have ever ingested. To this point I had done most, and crank, well, it by far was the worst in many ways. For the purpose of getting back to my story I am leaving out many aspects of the effects of this drug on the human body and soul. Yet, you will hear, through my story, what I mean.
I have a journal dated 12/5/94 that has a line that says "I have let myself down in ways that only I can correct". Another one dated 12/7/94 that says: "I've stepped forward a lot and i've stepped backward. I want more than anything to keep stepping forward. I know how hard it is to step in the right direction, for i've done it so many times. I am once again sick of going back to what is the easiest."
This is when I was back in the battle of returning to use. The daily fight to get up each day and not use. I remember this being a time where I had returned to use of the drug crack and had met the new drug of the time, crank. The battle was fierce. Remember that I had the massive internal issues of my life as a 27yr old who had not met his goals of becoming someone he wanted to. I was pretty fresh out of a break up of a long term relationship, living in a place that was depressing, and, most recently, was again unemployed due to my behavior when using drugs and alcohol.
Journal entry dated 12/9/94: "The pressure to do what I know is best for me is great right now. I am fighting many urges to do what I now would just leave me feeling guilty. I've lost some will power and I am fighting myself to get it back with a quickness. I can resist the urge, I am better than what I am telling myself"
What happened between that journal entry and the next is one that haunts my memory to this day and runs chills through my body as I write this.
I had started seeing a woman who lived in a house that disgusts me just thinking about it. It was not a good place for anyone to be in. Yet, in the drug world, it was THE place. Lot's of traffic in and out, drug deals, and people up all hours of the night. Ugly scenario. Here I am dating someone who, like me, was in active addiction. We usually did our drugs in an upstairs room in the house. It's just what we did. Go upstairs, do the drugs, carry on....blah blah blah. On this one particular evening her and I decided that we were not going to do that. We decided that we were going to try to resemble some type of normalcy and sit downstairs in the livingroom. It was Christmas time and I remember there being a tree up. We, her and I, and a few other people, were sitting in the livingroom. It isn't to late in the evening that I remember. I DO remember it was a foggy evening. I remember walking to the store prior and getting a weird feeling about the night. You can hear a car pull up outside. Not unusual for this house. Cars came and went frequently. Yet, this one was different, it didn't shut off right away.........and then......BANG BANG BANG!
Shots rang out and we all hit the floor. Complete terror in my mind. I, and I to this day don't know how, grabbed the phone on my way to the ground, and called 911. The 911 operator came on right away and I told her the house had just been shot at and I can still hear the car outside. I was scared to death. The girl is screaming her lungs out. She went in the room where her children were sleeping and they were ok. The 911 operator stayed on the phone and told me officers were on the way to stay on the phone. I wasn't going anywhere. I was as close the floor as I could get and wasn't moving. I could still hear the car running outside....scared out of my mind. After just a few minutes the 911 operator says officers are outside, I say I can still hear the car, I am scared. She says I am going to hear a knock on the door and to open it, it is the officers. I am confused out of mind because, in my mind, the car that shot at the house is still outside. She said they are coming up to the porch and will be knocking on the door, I hear a knock. I am still to scared to get up, no one else is moving. She assures me it is the officers....I hear them say the words "police, open the door"......I finally get up and open the door. It is the police,
Now, not a big surprise here, they knew the house. They had been here before. Drug house, lots of traffic, people up all hours of the night. They knew the house well. I remember the look on their faces. Looks of frustration. I tell them a car pulled up and shot at the house. Another officer shines his light at the front of the house and says he doesn't see any bullet holes......they are just about to leave in disgust and one of the other officers decides to shine his flashlight at the second floor of the house......riddled with bullet holes. They came in and officers head upstairs. I am in disbelief at this revelation. Utter disbelief. And.....now we are all in fear about the officers heading upstairs. The drug room.
A few minutes later they come down and say a bunch of mirrors, and glass, was broken everywhere. They don't say much after that, get information from us, and leave. This night will live in my memory for all of my days. All of my days.
I don't follow any religion. That's just me. I don't know if there is an all encompassing being out there or not for sure. I do know something was watching over me that night. I know something was watching over the children who were in a room sleeping that night and didn't die as a result of the chaos that surrounded them on that night and every other night during their lives.
In closing, for this writing, I feel massive remorse for my role in those children being around drugs and craziness. I don't know where they are today. Adults somewhere in the world. I do know, later in my story, when I get into recovery, I ran into their mom, she was getting into recovery. My hope is she still is in recovery and those children have been able to have healing from this time and many others.
I am grateful every day this month, and every other month, to be able live a life in long term recovery. I will spend everyday of my life doing what I can to help others experience the same. Out of the darkness into the light.
More tomorrow.
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