I had a terrible night’s sleep, hospital beds suck. There is no denying it. I was wrapped up in a pile of sheets struggling to sleep for more than hour at a time sporadically waking up throughout. Started the day nice and early though with a spring in my step that’s been missing for quite some time. I feel as if I’m in recovery now. The urge to smoke pot is no longer there and I have had day release or the past few days. Only an hour at a time but it’s been enough for me to have a nice walk to the shops and I even kicked off into a run for the first time in years. Today they have given me 4 hours and I’m off to lunch with my parents. Really looking forward to it. I’ve finally been benzo free for a few days and have weaned off all the Valium and pot. My Seroquel has been increased but I have never found my Seroquel to be damaging. It’s the one substance/drug/medication I have successfully taken for the past few years without ever abusing it.
I’m still a long way from a diagnosis of what I have. I had an in-depth discussion with my councillor yesterday trying to identify my using patterns or where I became unstuck in my younger years resulting in over a decade off substance abuse. I don’t fit the regular bill of a drug addict after all. I’m not running and hiding from something, I was never abused as a child and although I was never one of the popular kids I was never bullied. I probably more so rebelled against the clique type of schoolyard banter and bullying. I wasn’t an easy target, I was good at sports and either average or above average in plenty of my subjects.
The possibilities of where things have gone awry have come from not grieving correctly over certain losses. By the age of 20 I was no stranger to death. At 14 a friend who was very similar unfortunately lost his life in a house fire. 6-9 months later I watched my grandad fighting a losing battle with pancreatic cancer. It was easier to handle grandad as he had lived a full life but it was horrible seeing such a strong go getter waste away to nothing. He was virtually starved to death in that bed and forced into chemo treatments when they should have made him comfortable and prepared for his last flight.
Then again, the toughest I had to deal with was Adrian. He was a powerful young man and I looked up to him. Possibly not the best role model as we got up to a lot of nasty shit. We were running around robbing drug dealers with shot guns left right and centre. I was at a point where I started to move away from this destructive lifestyle and starting a relationship with my soon to be wife. I remember sitting in tafe in my third and final year 19 years of age when I got a phone call that still haunts me to this day. It was my future ex-wife on the line and she told me to sit down and prepare myself. AJ the man that introduced me to Xanax had fallen from a balcony while trying to climb back into a friend’s apartment. He was on the bars then and fell less than two metres. One of the strongest people I had ever met had severed his spinal column and he was in hospital on life support. The decision was made to turn it off.
It crushed me, I felt guilty we had started to have a little distance in our lives, someone who always understood me was no more, he died before his prime falling of a fucking pitiful little ledge. I’d seen this bloke charge 4 or 5 people and kick fucking teeth in. He was a fighter. He had the rep and he was one of the maddest fuckers rolling around, it was inconceivable. Adrian’s organs ensured 5 other people lived full and healthy lives with his passing but it was a miniscule consolation in the grand scheme of things.
Yes our group always knew it would be sudden but we expected it to be a car accident or a deal gone bad, not such a small little tumble. That’s neither here nor there merely something we may have identified as a causing factor for my substance abuse.
I just returned from lunch with my parents, it’s was great, my parents said how noticeably I had improved and we were able to talk positively about where my future is heading and how I would handle the real world. I learnt a saying during my treatment that strikes a chord. Inside rehab is the change room outside is the game. It couldn’t be truer. I’m nervous to see how I’m going to cope outside but as I have said before I’m truly determined to live a drug free life, My DR and I have agreed I should take my time and abstain from relationships for at least 6 months whilst I work on my recovery and determine a true diagnosis for what ails me.
I have many Anti-social tendencies. Years on the drugs have made my views on life rather jaded. I have the tendency to see the worst in situations and people around me and I have very little faith in social norms or the repetitive way society is structured. As my Psychiatrist has said, perhaps you have just been living life wrong and you need to be taught to see the finer points. After all life isn’t as bleak as I see it or so I am told, Ill reserve my judgment on this for the time being and continue to take each day as it comes.
