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