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Saturday, March 24, 2018

It's been a long time, since I've seen you my friend.

I haven't been here in years. It's been a long, long time since I've blogged.. but a lot has been on my mind, so here I return.

My recovery has been on my mind a lot lately. Come September it will be 10 years clean. Yet, 10 years ago this month is when I first used. I still can remember why I choose a drug over anything else. Therapy wasn't working, meds were making me worse, suicide was looking to be the only option I could face. Then I remembered what I was told the high would be like, what I had read it would be like, what I've seen it to be like. And I wanted that. Yes, it was my choice at first. People may never understand but my choice in that moment was to either die or find a way to make life worth living. My boys weren't enough, my marriage wasn't enough, nothing was enough. I was that far down the rabbit hole. I chose heroin. In a way, I can say heroin saved me. Sounds backwards as all hell, but it's my truth. I found a high that let me spend time with my boys rather than crying in the bathroom or just spacing out staring at walls contemplating just how to kill myself without my husband stopping me or the kids from finding me. I found a way that let me feel like I was on top of the world. And I didn't need to do it often, just once a week left me feeling great, until the end of the week came and I was spiraling down again. So I started twice a week. Not as much spiraling down, but was craving the euphoric feeling more than just feeling....normal. Before I knew it I *needed* it every day, more than once a day. More than the bills needed to be paid. The only items that came before the next fix was food, formula, and diapers. All that mattered was preventing my depression from kicking my ass. And I found a miracle drug. But it was costing us everything. Our home, our cars, our family. It wasn't until someone I love told me to get help or they'd take my boys that I realized I just switched from one rabbit hole to another. Instead of a quick death, I was choosing a slower one.  It's been ten years since I choose a high over death. Come September it will be ten years since I chose life over death.

I still struggle. I was at an all time low in 2016, to the point where I was legitimately hearing voices and seeing things. I wanted that easy fix desperately, but I remembered the threat of losing my kids. They were the only light in the dark and without them, I'd be nothing.

Since then, I've learned antidepressants work backwards for me due to being bipolar. Since all of this, I've found the "right" drugs to help me. Since then, I try to remember not what it was like in the beginning, but in the end of my days using. It wasn't a long time, I was lucky. Not even a year of my life was devoted to drugs. Yet, the rest of my life will be spent fighting the urge to use again.

People may think I am sharing too much, but I don't think so. I fight every single day to be a good wife, mother, employee, and member of society. I battle demons every single day. This week things are good. This year and last have been good. But who knows what tomorrow will bring? For now, I continue to fight each battle. And maybe, just maybe, in the end I will win the war.

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