A Cry From the Deep

By Poppi · Mar 14, 2014 · ·
  1. Poppi
    At the moment I find myself huddled in my bed, covered in blankets, with the air-conditioner going full blast--I can't tell if I am hot or cold. I dread going back to sleep, as I have slept most of the last three days. Fitful, nightmarish sleep broken only by a few minutes' reprieve so I can sit up and cry in pain, after which the fog and stupor returns and I go back to sleep, knowing full well the cycle will continue but not knowing when it will end.

    I desperately need help and have no one to turn to. I made the mistake of being too honest here and having it backfire, and I don't feel so safe sharing my feelings here even under the guise of anonymity anymore. My rational mind--what's left of it--knows I'm simply detoxing and the physical pain and discomfort I'm feeling will pass. I do not feel the same assurance that I will regain some level of emotional peace or comfort as I am deeply depressed and hopeless. I do not know when or if I will feel better and though I am grateful to be alive at this moment I have no real idea how long I can live like this.

    I surrender! I don't want a life like this, the endless repeating cycle of drug-induced false pleasure and the very real pain and suffering I endure when I must pay the piper. I have no desire to continue using--and it would be easy, I've still got half a gram left not five feet from me as I type--the thought repels me. As soon as I have enough strength to leave this house I will get rid of it somehow.

    I went to my first outpatient treatment meeting right after having woken up for the first time in two weeks--I was out of it, couldn't understand what anyone was saying, certainly couldn't read when it was asked of me--but I went because I needed to go and for that moment, which somehow miraculously has remained with me--I wanted what she offered. I wanted a sense of freedom, of safety, of all those things drugs promised me but could never create. I desperately wanted to go to the second meeting today but couldn't get the strength to sit in a chair for five minutes. I feel like a failure for missing that meeting and I really wish I could have gone, if only to further cement my desire to let go.

    So, here I am. My addicted mind tells me that I am only surrendering because I am in pain, that it's easy to surrender when I'm hurting, that my turning to God in despair is a false cry for help--after all, there are no atheists in the trenches--and I am afraid it's right. But just for the next five minutes it takes me to finish this blog post, I am willing to let it go. That is the least--and the greatest--thing I can do at the moment.

    Share This Article


  1. desert flower
    Poppi,let me say one thing,at least.
    You have not been too honest here,it hasn't backfired on you and there are many peeps here that value both you and your contribution to this site.
    You are clearly a knowledgable person with a great amount of insight into your circumstances.
    I don't think I believe in god but I like to believe that those who do will someday be rewarded.
    You do not cry in vain.
    I hope you're doing ok in the shitty place I know you must be,I really do.
    The fact you have a half g sitting next to you that you still intend to get rid of,speaks volumes.
    Don't hesitate to contact me if you want/need to.
    (I did say,"one thing at least").
    Best of luck.
  2. Waiting For The Fall
    The only person you have to be honest with, is yourself.

    Sharing your feelings with others is good therapy, as it releases some of the emotional burden you carry on this roller coaster.

    Stay true to yourself as you pay the piper, as you put it. Those of us who know you and appreciate your keen insight, see it as your narrative unfolds. As you experience it, we learn from it.

    Repairing a body from the abuse, even if it is 5'5", still takes time. Please support the sleep with nourishment, if possible. It will speed your delivery from this healing time. You are not a failure for not attending your second meeting, simply too weak.

    There are atheists in the trenches. And they will tell you there are no crutches or panaceas, but only the strength that comes from inside you to tough it out.

    Your reports from the battlefield are important to us, to let us know what progress you are making, even though it can be jagged at times (a couple steps forward, a step backwards). A situation like this has to be measured incrementally. And you need to have patience and tenacity to find some equilibrium.
  3. BitterSweet
    Poppi, although I've never met you, I read your posts and see someone who is smart, insightful, and strong. You help others, more than you might realize. I can relate to your posting habits here, as I like to think of myself as a member who also puts a lot of thought and effort into my posts and the advice I give people; yet I've always doubted whether I am even making a difference in these pursuits. After seeing your posts and reading what you have to say, I can see that these types of posts really do help people - and that has filled me with confidence that I am also helping people.

    I'm sad to see you're hurting, and that you feel you have no one to turn to. I don't know exactly what you mean when you say things you've divulged on here have back fired and caused you to be weary about sharing more of your life right now.

    A lesson I have learned is that when you feel like you don't have a friend in the world, you still need to remember to treat yourself like you would treat a good friend; this involves being kind to yourself, and noticing the positive efforts you are doing rather than focusing on the goals you feel like you aren't meeting. That means that you shouldn't be hard on yourself for missing that second meeting. Rather, recognize the fact that you went to a first meeting.

    Withdrawals are hell on earth, so don't feel like you need to rush the recovery process. When the withdrawals get more manageable, then you can invest yourself in getting outside support. But trying to take on too much at once can back fire. It probably took a long time to get to the state you're in now, so realize that it's okay to allow yourself to go at your own pace in the recovery cycle. Even though you feel horrible right now, remember that this is the only way for you to eventually feel good. I have never been a fan of the twelve step model, and the idea of surrendering. I like to look at overcoming addiction as taking the power back and kicking your demons to the curb. Of course, when you are at the point where you can't continue on with your addiction, you feel at the mercy of your addiction. To me, that is the realization that one has submitted to his or her addiction while the addiction was going on, and the point of change is a time when you take control and have power over your addiction.

    I don't know what you meant by saying their are no atheists in the trenches. I am an atheist, and I have realized there are many misconceptions about atheists. The word atheist has shock value right off the bat. I assure you though that I have felt the very same as you do now. I may not find strength in having a god, but I find strength in knowing that only I am in control of what I do, and that there is a chance that this may be the only life I get to live. I could go into much more detail about how my views in the realm of secular beliefs affects my attitude on life, but that's not necessary. I still struggle with the same problems other addicts do, and ultimately, being an atheist does not make that much difference in a lot of respects.

    Anyway, I wish you the best of course. I've always loved the saying that "this too shall pass". We can look back at all the times in our past where we thought we would never make it through, but we always do.
  4. Gallama
    Hey Poppi! I've never experienced addiction in any aspect of my life and have never even tried the drugs that you have struggled with so much so I cannot imagine what you are going through. But I will say that I have been following your posts, and I admire you for your strong resolve to change and the kind, thoughtful advice you dole out to others so often. Please don't regret your honesty, ever. It is far better to have an open heart than a hard one.

    I'm rooting for you, every day.
To make a comment simply sign up and become a member!