I noticed that throughout the day a lot of my time and energy is wasted on questions that either have no importance in life or all the importance in life. Here are a list of thoughts that cross my mind. What ever happened to that kid from Cuba that came to America on a raft ? I know there's probably about a million but the one where they found him in a closet with that S.W.A.T. guy with his finger on the trigger. Something Gonzalez. That should narrow it down. Where is Bozo the Clown buried? Why do men who look like serial killers/child molesters leave the house looking that way ? How many people STILL mix all the flavors of pop together when they're in the late 20's ? When did we learn to keep a straight face when we are holding in a fart ? I wonder what the car of Jake the snake Roberts smells like ? How unattractive women had to be before razors ? If Helen Keller was blind, deaf and mute how did she learn how to communicate ? But most important, what could I accomplish if I used this energy towards life ? Why does my mind wonder in mid-conversation to useless thoughts ? I try to answer that question but get side tracked by by the Austin Powers theme song in my head. I'm tired of writing about real struggles. These are the thoughts that invade my brain while at work. If I asked people these questions they'd for sure think I'm crazy. One more thing. What happened to the band The Presidents of the United States of America ?

We hold onto the pain of the past because the fear of change is crippling. Why choose pain and suffering over happiness ? Because pain and suffering is familiar, happiness is foreign. I was with a friend tonight and we talked about the struggles we have, in my life and hers. We found it interesting that we would rather feel pain rather than happiness to feel alive. When I'm happy I have no struggles, no chaos. Lately, my days have been planned out for me before I even wake up. I don't like that. I don't miss the feeling of being dope sick but I do miss the excitement of what I was going to have to do to get drugs. My life was never boring. But I wasn't living, I was existing. I want that excitement but while living. And for awhile, dreaming of building a tree house with my old landlord in an apple orchard on Halloween was sufficient. But my fantasies aren't reality. In reality I'm lazy, becoming over-weight and depressed. I know I'm at the exact place I'm supposed to be but when does that stop being true and turn into procrastination ? I'll tell you when, yesterday. I need to be more disciplined. I need to be Travis Bickle from Taxi Driver. Now, if I can just find a 14 year old hooker and a presidential candidate to assassinate my life would be good. The need for approval of others have dwindled because my connection with others have dwindled. I need to be of service to others for more than a bad example to follow. Things really aren't that bad, they could be worse. I could be drinking piss out of a Budweiser can waiting for my mom to pick me up at a music festival. You see what I did there ? Yea, I'm so clever!

MORE TO COME OF MY STRUGGLES WITH ADDICTION AND LIFE.

I think it's time to show some of the dark side of recovery. It's not always waking up loving the world and the person you've become. There are plenty of mornings I roll off the couch, that's where I fall asleep most nights,  with that same 'I can't wait for the day to be over' attitude I did while using. I still can become very antisocial. Just ask my friends. I get resentful towards everyone for nothing and that is when I'm closest to my next use or drink. Example: I was having one of those days at work. I felt overworked and under appreciated. I asked to go outside to smoke and while out there I saw a Budweiser can, empty, with maybe a half a sip of beer left. It may have even been rain water or piss. Even knowing that, it crossed my mind to drink it. In that moment, in that state of mind, that sip of beer/water/piss was worth all the hard work I've put in. Lets say there was beer in the can, what would that one sip do ? Nothing, besides make me get a bottle of whiskey and a bag of heroin. To the average person this might sound ridiculous, but I shared this at a meeting and people laughed. They didn't laugh because they thought I was crazy. They laughed because they knew what I was going through. My problem isn't drugs and alcohol, my problem is my inability to cope with, well anything! The uncomfortable social situations that arise makes me want to use or drink so if I look awkward, I'm high or drunk and don't care. All the progress I've made I'd throw out the window for a temporary release, if I don't stay focused and spiritually fit. So what does spiritually fit mean to me ? Well, not how I have been acting. I've developed the pattern of disconnecting myself from others because I find it hard to relate to them. There are maybe 2-3 people I've stayed connected with and that's because they either no what I'm going through or help motivate me.

I made a conscious decision the other day to get back on track. To be where I was a month ago. It lasted for about 24 hours and I'm back to taking 4 hour naps after work. Then smoking a few cigarettes, then going back to bed for the night. How do I get out of this rut ? I know how but I'm so content in my self-loathing behaviors that I find it nearly impossible to break. Its like how  when a friend is struggling I'm able to help them by talking to them and giving them a different point of view on things. Only I'm the friend struggling and I'm talking to myself but I'm refusing to listen to my logical side. I have all the answers, this is true, I just don't apply them in my own life. I've been resting on my laurels. I achieved so much in such little time I feel I deserve to take it easy. Theres my ego. I DESERVE to be resentful. I DESERVE to get special treatment and pretty soon it will be  I DESERVE to get high. I forgot what I had to do to get where I am today. I forgot what I had to go through to get back to treatment nearly 7 months ago. That could be another reason I'm struggling. In the past I've never made this far so everything is new grounds to me. Yea, I'm proud of my accomplishments, but I'm also fearful of the unknown. And right now my whole world is the unknown but I'm taking it one day at a time. Tomorrow's a new day with new possibilities.

MORE TO COME OF MY STRUGGLES WITH ADDICTION AND LIFE.

I had a talk with a friend today about growing up, she probably thinks I have a lot of that to do still, but that's besides the point. We got talking about being young and the thoughts that go through our sometimes delusional minds. It got me thinking how when I was young I had a fire inside me. I was who I was and if the world didn't like me then fuck them. I had a passion for music, film, politics and life. Looking back I knew very little on any of them. I liked shitty, unoriginal music. If the film wasn't dark and shocking I didn't want to see it. I subscribed to the political views that "punk" music told me to, even if f I didn't believe it or understand it. And life ? Well, I'm still figuring that one out.

When I was younger I dyed my hair, I cursed the government who lets me freely curse it. Legalize drugs ? SURE. Legalize prostitution ? SURE. I still support the legalization of free-will prostitution. Anyways, moving on. Make horribly offensive comments at the worst time possible ? I still do that just not on purpose. My point is I was unique. An individual. Why is "The Man" trying to make me conform to YOUR society ? No one will take away my individuality. Dyed hair ? Tattoos ? A fuck the world attitude ? Come to think about it I had no individuality. I was exactly like everyone else at that point. Trying so hard to not conform that we eventually conformed to a group of non-conformers. Funny, the absurdity of youth. I say youth because that's when I went through this but you still see grown adults struggling with this.

Which leads me to my next thought. We want to be unique and make the world accept us. But do we accept the world ? I realized that the world would never accept me if I didn't accept the world. If I had the attitude of "I'm not going to change for the world, the world is going to change for me." Well, I'd be a very resentful, very unemployable asshole. You know all those songs about the counter-culture in the 70's ? Where are those people today ? If they didn't die, they're very rich today. Why ? Because they grew up and realized the way the world is. That doesn't make them jaded or sell outs. It makes them adults. I used to have a lot of hatred to bands "selling out". But why ? They are making money for what they are doing. They have families and mortgages to worry about. You can't support a family playing for 30 jobless kids who come see you play. The ones that don't are usually the ones you see being dropped off at a music festival by their 80 year old mother.

I don't write these for anyone. O.K. maybe my friend Darci gets on me when I don't write for awhile, but besides her. I know my rants won't change anyone's mind because someone else's rant never changed mine. I worked with a guy who always tried telling me that one day I'd realize the things he said were true. He even said one day I was going to say I wish I listened to that crazy old man. Well, that one day has arrived. He knew then that he couldn't change my mind just like I know I can't change anyone's mind. But one day they will understand this or they will get dropped off at a music festival by their 80 year old mother.

MORE TO COME ON MY STRUGGLES WITH ADDICTION AND LIFE.OK

Fear. What is fear ? Fear is a motivator for me to do things and a motivator for me to not do things. The very first time I felt fear was as a young child when my family left me in my bouncing chair and went into another room. They might as well gone onto another planet. The fear crippled me. Ironically, my latest fears are the same. The fear of abandonment. Why do I have this fear ? I have learned to live off of barely nothing. So that means it's not the fear of losing material things. It's the fear of losing the connection that I have with others. At times that connection is down like a phone line in a hurricane. It sometimes takes weeks or months to repair, but it will be reconnected.

I often wonder why I have fears. I mean what makes certain people scared of one of thing but no another ? Was I taught my fears ? And if so, by who ? I've been taught my whole life to fear the minorities, fear the government and fear strange men. Well, I don't fear minorities, I certainly don't fear my government and I am a strange man.

On the other hand, I've been told to not be ashamed to express myself, only I can make myself happy and to always follow my heart. The weird thing is, I'm fearful to express myself out of not being accepted, I need someone else to be happy and I don't follow my heart out of fear of failure or even fear of success. So I do the things I'm not supposed to do and don't do the things I'm supposed to. If that isn't my life story.

I need to start being fearing black people, hating my government and hating creepy men and I should be alright. Wait, no, I need to start being ok with who I am as a person and realize that everyone has these fears and insecurities. I will never grow as a person if I'm afraid to fail. And if I fail, I need to pick myself up and start over. Im proud of my ability to see through skin color, I'm proud to understand why our government does the things it does and damnit, I'm proud to be a creepy man.

MORE TO COME ON MY STRUGGLES WITH ADDICTION AND LIFE

I feel like I haven't written anything in awhile so I'm going to write what I want out of life. Sure, I'd like money. I'd like to be known when I walk into a room of people in a city I've never been to. I'd like to have women fighting to just be seen with me, but we all know those things aren't likely to happen. Then I thought harder. What I want out of life is happiness. Then I have to ask myself what is happiness to me ? For me happiness is knowing yourself. The good, the bad. Knowing what makes me do the things I do and recognize it when I make mistakes. I don't understand when people have the same issues always happening in their lives and think it's some coincidence. For example, a woman who always ends up in abusive relationships. Are they attracted to that type of man ? Sure, because somewhere in their life they associated abuse with what makes a man. Why is that so hard to see ? And why don't people want to understand the human mind for what it is ?

I grew up in the mid 90s but somewhere along the way I was attracted to an older era. I Love Lucy is still today one of my favorite shows. The Brady Bunch, The Patty Duke Show, Leave it to Beaver and The Andy Griffith Show are all among my favorites. I learned the facts of life from The Facts of Life. But how did these shows of a time when things were different, less complicated form my feeble brain ? I'll tell you. It made me enjoy family values. Sure, the money was short when Patty Duke gave out candy bars for free when she was told 'I'll pay you tomorrow' and don't forget about the lessons of love from Save by the Bell. I still can't believe Kelly would do that to Zach. But it taught me that family stick together no matter what. Family shouldn't break up without a struggle like a high school relationship. There should be a sense of pride in knowing you belong to something. Marines have it because they grow a bond together from the struggle they encounter knowing they will make it through or die. Til death do us part. Maybe families should start killing people in battle.

I do understand that my idea of a family may be a fantasy but why does it have to be that way ? I think if we didn't live in such a throw away culture maybe things would be better. I don't love you anymore I want a divorce. This pregnancy will ruin my already slutty image, I'll get an abortion. Before I go on, I have no issue with abortion. Do what you need to do but accept the consequences. I don't judge people on bigger issues. I judge on your taste or lack there of. Kill a baby, kill a man, kill a baby man. Just don't ask me to join.  Man, did I get off track. My point is we give up when things get hard. I want to celebrate a 50th wedding anniversary. I want to belong to something bigger than me. Basically, I want to marry Lucille Ball and have 6 kids, a dog and a maid.

Then in dawned on me. I belong to a fellowship of men and women who share the same common goal. I belong to a world who is desperately trying to change our views on life and transcend our energy to better this world. I belong to the Earth and in some form will always be here.

Sorry if this post went all over the place. I swear I didn't smoke a joint before I wrote this. 6 months clean and sober today!!!

MORE TO COME OF MY STRUGGLES WITH ADDICTION AND LIFE

I'm going to start off where the last post ended. LIBERTAD! LIBERTAD! Nope, a little past that. When I woke up out of the drug haze, I remembered thinking how scared I was. I was surrounded by dirty, homeless alcoholics. I was better than them. I just lost control for awhile. But it dawned on me that I too, have been waking up in the same place as them. I too have problems I can't resolve on my own. If only my damn ego would get out of the way I can connect with these men on a human level. Not as an owner to a pet, you might say. Well, my ego was crushed pretty quick. Waiting in line for food, being searched to stay the night and showering with other grown, homeless men shrunk that real quick, it also shrunk my ego!

So the day I remember so vividly was the day I got kicked out. At the shelter I was at we had to sit through a 30 minute service before dinner. Well, after a full day of crack cocaine, heroin and more benzos, you can say it was a little hard to stay awake. I ate the food that was given to me and soon went outside to look for cigarette butts. Yes, cigarette butts, I'm not proud of it so don't judge. I hid my goody bag of paraphernalia and went back inside to check in for the night. That's when I was approached by two staff members and was asked to follow them. So I think I'm being rewarded with extra food or something, but they take me in a room and asked if I was under the influence. I remember being a smart ass and saying, what do YOU consider under the influence? So they grabbed my bags and started going through everything. I didn't like that. Even though I had nothing on me, that was my stuff not theirs. So we got in an argument and they kicked me out. I through all my belongings, which weren't much to begin with in a black garbage bag and hit the road.

FUCK!!! What am I going to do now ? Im walking around downtown Rockford at night in mid December. I dropped my bag to the ground and prayed to God. "God, if you're out there and haven't given up on me yet, please help me." Less than a minute later a white van pulls up and asks if I'm hungry. They give me a sack lunch and a flyer for a drug treatment program. Thats just a coincidence I thought. GOD, WHERE ARE YOU?  Then, I see a group of people standing over by the Justice Center. Not exactly my hang out but I figured there had to be a reason people are outside when its 10 degrees out. I make my way over there and find out they're waiting for a church to pick them. They were homeless too and needed a place to stay for the night. Well, since God didn't answer me I guess I'll join them. Thats how out of touch I was. My Higher Power sent me two signs and I dismissed them. It wasn't until about a month later that I looked at it that way.

Today, I get signs from my Higher Power all the time. Maybe not visual signs but definitely feelings. I know when I should do something. I know when I see someone struggling I need to help. I wish I could say I always act on those signs but I don't. My ego gets in the way and I feel like I deserve to watch The Godfather in peace while a close friend is downstairs struggling to stay sober. If Charles Manson taught one good thing to his followers, it would be to stay in the moment or the now as he called it and to deflate your ego. Ego never helped a situation.

Well I'm off to join the Manson Family, Helter Skelter!

MORE TO COME OF MY STRUGGLES WITH ADDICTION AND LIFE.

Somewhere in between the days of December 12 and December 15 I woke up in a homeless shelter. If you haven't noticed I'm usually pretty good with dates, but when a mixture of benzos, heroin and cocaine come into play, it all starts to blur.

To start the story off right I need to begin when I woke up on December 12, 2013. I got out of bed my usual 10:30am time. I got a call from a friend saying she needed money for dope and had Xanax to sell. Me, I'm supposed to be clean, even though I wasn't, I tell her I need to buy some. I gather money in ways I don't feel comfortable explaining and have her pick me up. Once I swallowed the first 3 pills I new a blackout was soon to follow. I gave them some time to kick in then went and picked up a few bags of both heroin and crack. I spend my day indulging in my sickness but make sure to save one bag for the morning. If you're an addict you know that didn't happen. I got home that night and and waited for my ex-girlfriend to pick me up. Well, she never showed so I set off on what would be an adventure in itself. Blurred vision and slurred speach I stumbled out onto the streets of Rockford. I make it a half of a block away when I found a bus stop shelter. I sat down in there and took my jacket off. The next thing I remember was being kicked by a stranger asking if I'm alive. I get off the frozen concrete and tell him I must have fallen asleep. Walking away I noticed I had the needle still sticking out of my arm. I often wonder what that person thought walking away. I don't even know if it was a man or woman. All I knew was that I had a tripple vision going on and I remember distinctly thinking how weird it was that I couldn't remember my name or where I lived. I walked downtown Rockford for an hour or so and then remembered how to get home. When I got back I poured a glass of milk that I later poured all over myself. The next thing I remember was waking up in a homeless shelter. Only I didn't know where I was. The shelter was kinda set up like the immigration camps in the beginning of the movie Scareface. Only no one was chanting "LIBERTAD LIBERTAD". But there were stabbings. That was a joke, kinda. The thing that happens next still makes me sad. I remember laughing because I knew what Bradley Nowell was going through when he wrote 'What Happened'. If you know that song you'll understand.

So there's a second part to this story that I will write later tonite maybe. It's just as depressing as this but there is a positive spin that happens the next night.

MORE TO COME OF MY STRUGGLES WITH ADDICTION AND LIFE

I recently had a long talk with a friend from Indiana that I haven't talked to in about 13 years. And the conversation quickly turned into a deep discussion about God, whatever that term means to you. I explained my views on my Higher Power which led me to write this post.

I believe in Karma. Call me a dirty hippy or a New Age kid, it doesn't bother me a bit. Truthfully, I identify more with hippies than others. Although I do wear deodorant, sometimes. AND I hate patchouli oil.

So my view on life and how to live it is to be kind to everyone. I believe everyone in the world is connected in one way or another. Maybe not directly, but our actions cause consequences ,whether good or bad. For example, I'm walking down the street and run into a homeless man who has given up on humanity. If I talk to that man and show compassion by buying him food or bumming him a few smokes then I have taken care of my need for helping others. But it doesn't stop there. Lets say that same man takes care of whatever problems he has in life and gets off the streets. Once he is off the streets he starts volunteering at a walk in clinic for underprivileged people. Then meeting someone there who offers him the opportunity to go over seas to help out. He then catches a flight to Nigeria lets say. He helps out in Nigeria with starving children. Indirectly, I helped those children by buying that man food or bumming him smokes. By me being nice that one day changed that mans perspective on life and ultimately changed another life.

Now this might be far fetched but you get my point. When my actions are positive I help the world. When my actions are negative I bring down the world. You never know how you will influence people by the smallest things you say or do. Sometimes they don't even hear you say it or see you do it, but they can just tell in your actions that you are at peace and do the right thing.

My first time in treatment I was told that I'm on the right path when I start doing the next right thing, even when no one is watching. For the longest time I'd only do the right thing, half-assed, when I knew for sure someone was watching. Not today though. I'm trying to live the best I can, with what I have and to make a difference in this world. Will I ever know if I have made a difference ? Maybe, maybe not. But if I don't try to make a difference then I am only bringing this world down.

MORE TO COME ON MY STRUGGLES WITH ADDICTION AND LIFE

To judge- to form an opinion of someone or something after careful thought.

With that definition it doesn't sound that bad to judge. But that's not how I judge. Sure, I sometimes put careful thought into whether I let a person into my life. Mosty, I judge people on first impression. Before you open your mouth I have my opinion set. While wildly unfair, I agree, it's the truth. I judge you on your hair, your clothes, you're inability to speak the English language, your color identity problem. How about instead of stealing peoples identity, you steal their color indentity ? That would make for a great movie. But back to my problem with judging perfect strangers. Actually, no, I've made myself out to be an asshole already. How about what people can judge me about ? Poor hygiene, sure. I can be very condescending. I belittle you if your favorite movie of all time is Road Trip or any other lame movie. I mean, come on haven't you seen Buffalo 66, Gummo or Dog Day Afternoon? AND you like One Direction ? Do you have a brain OR a soul ?

But who am I to judge ? I like professional wrestling, the Ernest movies and Weird Al Yankovic.

I like lame movies too-

TODAY, JULY 31, 2014. I, KYLE RADUSKI, ADMIT..I LIKED THE NOTEBOOK.

Wheww, I feel so much better.

The purpose of this post was to show that while I currently judge the shit out of people, I have no room to. I don't like to be judged so why do I do it. A wise, beautiful and talented women ( my mom ) once told me, treat others like you'd like to be treated. In case you don't know, I'm a mommas boy.

I know I have to work on this and I honestly do everyday. Not the mommas boy part, the judging thing. I feel that if I don't work on something everyday then I will soon loose what I so desperately need. Sobriety.

MORE TO COME OF MY STRUGGLES WITH ADDICTION AND LIFE

Here is the post I thought I deleted. Turns out I'm just not good with Smart phones. Since I wrote most of this before my last post, I kinda Tarantino'd it.

I realized that the only thing I've been writing on has been where I was in my addiction. I'd like to write about where I am today in my recovery, and also how my addiction has manifested itself in other ways.

Recovery has a lot to offer. I have learned to accept myself for who I am, my character defects and all, while trying to accept others for who they are. I found it's a lot easier to accept myself than others. When I accept myself I learn to understand my actions and take a look at why I do what I do. I don't always like the answer I get, but I always get an answer.

I have gained so many strong relationships through the program. People who understand me at the deepest level. They know my fears and my struggles because they are either going  through it too or have already gone through it. How can a friend outside the program understand me seeing a leaf on the ground and wanting to use over it ? Sounds ridiculous but believe me, its happened.

I think the most important thing I've gained in the past 2 years would have to be my relationship with my Higher Power. I have gained strength through Him like you wouldn't believe, like I wouldn't have believed 2 years ago. I pray every morning and every night, and whenever I need to during the day. I heard a good line in a meeting once, 'I don't care if there's a God or not, but believing in one works for me'. That made perfect sense to me, because I over think everything. But I do have proof today of a Higher Power and I will write about that another time. I think should dedicate a post for that only. (Which was posted before this, hence the Tarantino'd comment)

Now, for my where my addiction is at now. Like any addict I have no control over the 'how much is too much' part of my brain, I go to too many meetings, or no meetings, I call my sponsor everyday, or not for 2 weeks, I work on steps everyday or never. Why can't I find that balance. I finally started working again and I spend all my time working or sleeping. Then it comes to relationships, oh the need for approval by the opposite sex, from the same sex too I suppose. I've been getting better with that because my 'approval rate' has risen since being clean. I found something out recently. No one likes a dirty, lying drug addict. But people do like the honest, sometimes too honest, still dirty, clean addict. To dig deeper into the opposite sex approval, I have this problem. The problem is I don't know when women are flirting or just being nice. Its made many awkward moments for me in life. And ultimately ended a lot of friendships that I took as being more. I've been told to not read into things too much or quit being neurotic. But I guess that's just me. I suppose one day I'll find a woman as awkward as me, but I'll probably find her unattractive because of her odd ways. The struggle for happiness is real, people!

MORE TO COME OF MY STRUGGLES WITH ADDICTION AND LIFE

Lets try this again. I wrote something earlier but deleted it somehow. I wrote about what recovery has blessed me with, instead of what addiction has cursed me with. So I'm going to take the most important thing out of the deleted post and write on that. My Higher Power, which I choose to call God. "Which I choose to call God." When I used to hear people say that it would piss me off. I'd think to myself, 'You condescending asshole, you think you're so much better because you found your Higher Power?' Well, now I'm apparently that condescending asshole. At one point I wanted to call my Higher Power Frank or Demtri. I was so desperately holding onto my individuality that defined me. I wasn't like you, I'll never be like you, so get use to it. Then something happened to me over and over again, I relapsed. Maybe, just maybe I am like you. Exactly like you,, even down to my need for being apart from the rest. I understand now that I can have my own views and twisted sense of humor and still be like the 70 year old man who has 50 years clean, or the 19 year old with 2 days clean. We are both fighting for our lives.

My Higher Power has shown Himself many times in my life. Whether it's showing me I'm not unique or showing me to help out others in need no matter how much I dislike them. And I really dislike people at times, mostly 75% of the people in my life. Maybe not that high, but I don't like a lot of people.

Here are two very special events that have taken place since being in recovery.

1. While staying in a recovery home in downtown Rockford, I prayed before leaving the house to go to the gas station for cigarettes. I was in the stage of my spirituality where I didn't know who I was praying to or if there was even a God. I prayed, 'God, if you are real, give me a sign, any sign.' Now, to make you understand the weather at the time, it was winter in the Midwest, so yea, it was snowing pretty bad. I start my walk and about halfway there, snow covering every inch of the ground I find a Bible, untouched of snow. I pick the book up and think, 'thats weird'. I'm not a Christian by any means, but maybe at some point in my life that will become an option for me. I don't rule any possibility out anymore. Either way, thats a crazy sign. I figure if there is one God and that's the Christianity God, then Hes made His presence known.

2. This one is unbelievable, well not really, but here goes. February 9, 2014 I woke up on a church pew at a warming shelter. I was dope sick and just plain sick of life. While I am using I have no relationship with my Higher Power, none at all. But this morning I prayed to God to either help me get through this or kill me today, I can't go on like this. I walk from that church to downtown Rockford, making a stop to get dope of coarse. It had to be about 10 degrees that morning. I made my way downtown in clothes that haven't been washed in weeks, and a backpack of dirty socks and underwear. When I finally made my way downtown I found myself a bus transfer and took a bus to a detox center. I walked in and told them my situation and begged for help. They advised me my chances weren't too high. They had appointments for the open beds and on top of that it was winter. People come to get off the streets and get food. So they gave me a ham sandwich and a Sierra Mist and I waited. Eventually, a staff member came in and said they had opened a bed for me. AND they did my laundry for me! Thank God because I was smelling pretty shitty.

I remember thinking I wasn't going to get many more chances like this so I better make this count. However my disease didn't stop there, I had planned on leaving a few days in because I was feeling better. I didn't act through on it, but I thought about it often.

Higher Power, you have saved my life over and over again. I can never thank you enough.

MORE TO COME OF MY STRUGGLES EITH ADDICTION AND LIFE

So I was rummaging through my wallet and I came across this piece of paper. I wrote this on December 12, 2013. Little did I know at the time I would be kicked out of the homeless shelter I was occupying 5 hours later, and the start of my "street days" as I call them began. I titled this, 'My Secrets' Secrets'

I met this city by walking it's streets. It gets cold at night when you have nowhere to go. Nowhere to go leads to nowhere good. Dirty needles surround my feet, while the only halfway clean one is in my arm. How did this polite young boy who was raised to be a gentleman get this low in the world, this deep ? When the sun rises in the morning but all you see is darkness, have you sunk too low ? Am I too low ? The snow flickers in the street lights as my vision statics out like an old television set. Am I overdosing or do I just need to sit down ? Lately, I cant tell the difference. Sometimes I get so tired that I pray for an overdose just so I can close my eyes and rest. Something has to give. Something has to change. A house to live in for 6 days is not a home because it had a welcome mat. The mat read 'Home Sweet Home'  but I read it, 'You Have No Home'. If these clothes could talk, they'd tell my darkest secrets. That I'm alone. That I'm scared. That I don't know who to turn to. Good thing these clothes have holes and my secrets have all fallen out. I have so many secrets, my secrets have secrets. So don't tell me I can't keep a secret.

I wrote that on a crumpled up piece of paper that I found in a basement I was squatting in. I thank my Higher Power on a daily basis for not living that way anymore. Through my pain and suffering I am able to help others today find hope. If this drug addict can do it, so can anyone.

MORE TO COME OF MY STRUGGLES WITH ADDICTION AND LIFE

This next part takes place around February 13, 2013

Once again, I awoke in a strange place unsure where I am, how I got there or even who these people were crammed into this small two bedroom house. They all seem to know me, maybe not by name but they aren't all wondering who I am. Something I became too familiar with over the years has happened again. Waking up with no memory of what happened in the past few days. But did that scare me ? Make me rethink the current direction of life ? Nope. Maybe, at some dark, secret spot in my mind it frustrated me. Being in the grips of addiction at this time for 13 years, I was welcoming a successful overdose. Something to free me. Something to ultimately free my family.

So I did what I learned to do best after attempting to reconstruct the past couple days. I got high. Even if I didn't have to play detective, I would have gotten high anyways. When I think about why I would use after having time clean, two things come to mind. 1) I stopped ( or never started ) working a program, which means I never had any of the miracles of recovery take place in my life. 2) Simply, I wanted to get high. For most addicts, after using for so long, drugs don't get you high. They got me completely, sobering normal. I didn't nod, I didn't itch. I did get mad seeing others that way, but once physically addicted, I was using because I wanted to be normal. I too like to eat and sleep.

Speaking of sleeping. I turned down crack cocaine the first, eh, maybe 5 times it was offered. Oh, wait wait, back up. That mysterious house I woke up at, that was a crack house. Now, you can probably imagine a crack house. Dirt on the floor, month old dishes in the sink, nothing but molded bread and dried up peanut butter in the fridge. So, I politely declined the offer of crack and went about my heroiny ways, because I'm not going to smoke crack, are kidding me ? And be like you drug addicts ? I don't want to live like your living. Even though I was living like that. Then one day, I decided to try it, how bad can it be ? In all honesty, I thought it would be a lot for intense. And I really didn't care for it. But that doesn't mean I spent the next year smoking crack and shooting heroin everyday. Oh, wait, yea it does. Then I was introduced to a lovely cocktail called a speedball. Which for me, that means heroin and crack in the same syringe. I don't know what caused me to try it the first time. But I found my new love. From the time I started smoking/shooting crack and shooting dope all day, it took less than one year for me to be living on the streets of Rockford, in the coldest winter of my life.

MORE TO COME ABOUT MY STRUGGLES WITH ADDICTION AND LIFE

This next part took place in late August 2012.

When I woke up in an elementary school playground, by a security guard who informed me this was the second morning in a row waking me, I was a bit confused because I've never seen this man in my life. The next thing I remember was eating some sort of mexican dish out of a Styrofoam container. If the newspaper on the table was correct, I had lost about 5-6 days. Thats not to say I wasn't active in those days, I just have no memory of them. I was once again in those oh so comfortable scrubs. That's not sarcasm, they are extremely comfortable. I met a girl wearing the same comfortable scrubs whose name was, lets say Kelly. Because that was her actual name. Kelly, I believe was the one who mentioned somehing about the ambulance.  I thought maybe she had me confused with someone because I haven't been in an ambulance in over a year. Then it hit me, like when someone to mentions something about a pit bull and that triggers a thought that MAYBE you had a dream last night about a pit bull but you don't remember any details. Yea, that happened.

Fast foward the next 2 weeks of sitting in a detox center. Then, the next month of in-patient. ( It never hit me until writting that last sentence the amount of time I've spent recuperating from drugs and alcohol in those comfortable scrubs )

I believe when I successfully left treatment that time it was either late September or late October. The reason I say successfully left is because I have successfully completed some sort of drug treatment numerous times, I just counted atleast 13 successful discharges. ( Between detox, in-patient, out-patient or continuing care ) And I'm still as fucked up as ever. The only difference today is that I know I'm fuckef up and I'm accepting myself.  Back to the story. I moved into a new recovery home. I liked it a lot because I had freedom. I could have women over. I could stay out until 11:30-12:00 every night and there was hardly any supervision. No wonder I used again. Give an addict all those things in early recovery and see how many make it. But I didn't relapse on heroin or alcohol at first. I relapsed on OTC cough medicine. And then acid. My disease starting talking to me in all types of ways. "Come on, your drops wonwon't show cough syrup or LSD. And they didn't show up, but I wasn't satisfied with those type of drugs, and I didn't want to full out use again, yet. So, why not start taking benzos again ? Oh, another blackout ? Oh, I started using heoin again ? Funny how that works.

The night was February 9, 2013. I left the house to go hang out with a friend and go get get high. I talked to my girlfriend at the time and told her I was going to bed, or some other lie. All day I've been chewing benzos like Big League Chew, minus the monster bubble blowing ability Big League Chew gives you. So it's safe to say I won't remember the next few days. Well, to make a relatively short story even shorter, I got kicked out the next day. It was February 10, 2013. My grandmas birthday. My dads birthday. And the start of the worst 365 ( EXACTLY ) days of my life. I soon welcomed crack cocaine to my rigorous diet of heroin, benzos and cigarettes.


MORE TO COME OF MY STRUGGLES WITH ADDICTION AND LIFE

So this is my first time writting down any of my thoughts and making them public. I still don't know how this will go but I will soon find out.

For the past 14 years of my life I have struggled with major drug addiction and at times, alcohol dependency. I started using to fit in, I guess, like a lot of experimenting teens. Although, I soon realized it wasn't me experimenting anymore. It was me addicted to precription pain medication.  I remember one of the first times I tried an opiate. Everything was just...BETTER! I was funnier, cooler, more attractive ( that's debatable) and the most important thing, I felt like I fit in. Looking back though, I noticed that I wasn't really "fitting in" because most of my friends at that time didnt use, maybe they smoked weed, once.

But for me fitting in with others meant feeling comfortable in my own skin, which I still struggle with today. It's like I'm an extra large body in a medium size skin. Not so easy to do. But the more important thought to analyze is why don't I feel comfortable in my own skin ? Was it my childhood ? Normal by any means in todays world. Parents divorced at a young age. Raised by a single parent until my step-father came into the picture. I suppose I might have felt abandoned by my father, then connected with my step father, only for him and my mother to have a child of their own, and that connection was lost again. Either way, I didnt feel accepted.

Then came the teenage years, oh the agnst. I hated everything. School, family, myself, the world, Brett "the hit man" Hart. I mean, come on, I was a Shawn Michaels fan. It seemed like I was on a crash coarse with pain and suffering, brought on by my own actions from an early start. But thats neither here or there.

Like many addicts, at one point in my life I was appearing to live an acceptable life by society's standards. Good job, my own place and a car. But what was really going on ? I was broke all the time. I isolated the 16 hours I wasn't at work. I had a family member pay all my bills so I could get high . Classy, I know. Then on April 19th, 2012 an odd chain of events took place which ultimately landed me in a drug rehabilitation center for the first time. My D.O.C. at that time, heroin.

I recieved a successful discharge and got a hold of my first copy of the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous and the Basic Text of Narcotics Anonymous. I wish I could say that that's the end of my journey but I feel I would be shorting you out on some first hand experience of pain and suffering. I did however stay clean for about 3 months, give or take. I didn't actually know the amount of time I had clean because I didn't care. I wanted to show my family I could do it, then go get high. Which I did, thank you!

The blackout lasted for about 2-4 days. Don't ask me, I dont remember. But in that period of time, I was kicked out of the recovery home I was staying at, entered a detox center, left a detox center in an ambulance, disharged from the E.R., lost my wallet, lost my cell phone and then FINALLY made it back to a detox center where I then woke up an extra 2 days later, not knowing what had happened. A social drinker may blackout for an hour or two, but us addicts, we go days! But had I had enough ? Sure, for about 6 months until it all happened again. This time I was staying in another recovery home in Rockford. I was doing good too, I thought. I had a girlfriend who was a liar. (Resentment ? No!) A sponsor I only used when I was doing well and an urge so strong for acceptance by the opposite sex all the hulk-a-maniacs in America couldn't keep it down. I was determined. Determined to make a mess out of my life and blame everyone else for my problems. So what did I do?  I got high of coarse.

MORE TO COME OF MY STRUGGLES WITH ADDICTION AND LIFE.