let it go

i think i’ve been really hard on myself for the past couple weeks…i’ve been getting worse and worse, and feeling more and more hopeless. but in my desperation to find some kind of solace…i went back to the fundamental thing i learned in recovery. quiet reflection and prayer. it’s only been about four days, and they have not been exceptionally good ones, but i woke up this morning and asked for help to be a better person, to let go of the mistakes i’ve made, and to move on to making this one day good for me and the people around me. i had forgotten the peace that comes from just doing my best and hoping for the best. it’s so easy to get caught up in how sad and alone i feel.  to forget about the future i want to have. its so easy to tell myself i don’t deserve any better, and even if i do i won’t get it.

its so much harder to hope, to do the work, to make the effort to change. but anything that is worthwhile is hard work.

i’ve been back on the run for about a month or so now, and the ammount of pain and suffering i’ve endure as well as inflicted apon others is incredible. i don’t want to do it anymore.  it’s just such an empty exsistance.

so now comes the hardest part of all, finding a place of balance. finding my own way to recovery, nobody else’s. finding the strenght and the will to do something good.

but i think this time i’ll start small…and just pray that i get through today without hurting myself or anyone else, and that i can do that sober.

god help me……. 

undertow

“….but you know, i’m young, christ, i’m only 24, and even if i know shit gets fuct up when i party, i’m just not ready to stop.” 
“totally, kid, i’m in the same exact spot.” i said, not looking up from my text-in-progress.  this was a standard issue conversation, it always comes about four beers into any night out w/ someone you meet in recovery. dj i had met in the halfway house.  we hang out every once in a while, more now that we are both actively using again. (he’s only drinking right now) we’ve been to the bar together a few times, it’s a good time….we mostly talk about recovery, which is an ironic twist.

“it like i know someday i’ll have to stop, i just don’t have it in me right now.” he said, peeling the label off his sam adams.
“you’ve lost that desperation, things have gotten better. it’s how alot of people go back out.” i said, still texting.

…..just picked up something you might like, wanna meet me somwhere?…..

…..pick a train station, i’ll be there in twenty minutes….

“um, dj, my friend jesse wants to hang out, did you want to walk me davis square?” i asked, polishing off my fifth beer.
“i thought we were gonna hang out tonight, kaia.” dj asked, looking hurt.
“i said we’d have a couple drinks. and that was five beers and two shots of jagger ago.” i was quite tipsy by this point, and was lacking the sensitivity i usually display. ” i’ve got other shit i need to do.”  i know dj kindof has a crush on me, but that was none of my concern at the moment. “did you wanna walk me to the train or not?”  i asked, putting my coat on.

“yeah, i’ll definatly walk you to the train, kaia. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to jump down your throat.” dj gulped the rest of his beer and we headed for the door. not until we were outside and walking did i realise two important things. one, i was alot drunker than i though i ws and two, we had walked out on a 75 dollar bar tab. “um, dj, you didn’t pay that girl.” i said.

“whatever.” he shrugged. “so are you going to get high?” he asked.
“yes.” i said, blushing. it’s wierd, but i still feel ashamed admitting i’m going to get high, even to a friend who relapsed himself.  the shame is there, regardless. i know he feels the same way. living that lie. nobody else from the program knows he’s drinking right now. “i’m just gonna do a couple shots and chill, you know. free drugs, can’t say no.”

“it’s never free, though, is it?” he asked me.
“never.”

we walked in silence the rest of the way.  it was getting late, and my breath hung in the air as i hurried along.  we said goodbye @ the red line. ” be careful, please kaia.”

“always, kid.” i said, and as i hugged him goodbye i rolled my eyes. what constitues careful when you are on your way to mainline heroin?

the train ride was agonising so i looked around trying to find a way to distract myself. as time passed on the train, i felt like i was actually getting drunker, instead of slowly gettting sober. i had my sunglasses on, in the tunnel, at 1230 watching all the other passengers make fools of themselves, as was i.  you see alot of that on late night train rides. couples practically having sex, two drunk frat boys arm-wrestling on one of their knees,  an old lady having a full on conversation with her chihuahau, and a handful of teenagers reveling in one of those magical first highs, reeking of weed. it was all so amusing to me….entertainment tonight, live feed. i giggled to myself, , running scenarios in my head for each group. who was going where, what the rest of their night would be like. very different from mine. i thought.

i didn’t know how right i was.

i got off the train at davis, and there was jesse, parked across the street, waiting for me. kid’s always on time, i’ll give him that much. i crossed the street and jumped into the pathfinder. disco biscuits blairing out of the ipod. i had a feeling it was going to be a good night.

“so, where to, hotshot?” i asked, smiling. i had a feeling jesse *also* had a tiny crush on me. (boys like girls that like to party) why else would he be offering me a free ride on a friday night? that’s not how things usually go down in junkyland.

“i’ve got a hotel a couple towns over, dope’s waiting there, we can be there in ten minutes.”

“ah, jesse, you are a man of few words, but they all sound so good, lets get this caravan moving.”

and we were on our way, with one pit stop for new sets, we were at the hotel in record time. i sat myself down at the desk, waisting no time. there was a shot cooked and in the spike in less than a minute. you could never tell how drunk i was because i made up that dope with expert precision, hit myself without a second thought. as the warmth rushed over me, i went to a place i don’t visit that much anymore…that perfect high, where nothing matters, there are no thoughts…no feelings. just emptiness.  not the emptiness i feel day to day, cold and desperate. a warm, quiet emptiness. chemical serenity.

“hey, can you hit me?” jesse asked. i said yes, and as i took the set from him i realised then how wrecked i really was.  his arm was blurry and i could barely make out his veins. but i gave it my best effort. after two failed attempts and blood all over both of us, he took the rig back. “i’ll do it myself, huh.” he laughed. i should’ve known then something was amiss, i never have trouble hitting anyone.

but i was feeling stellar and i wasn’t thinking worst case scenario at all. we went down to the vending machine, got myself a diet coke and some candy. the good vibe i had was multiplying in me. now it all gets a little fuzzy from here on out, which is the case anytime drinking is involved. i black out every time i get drunk, no exceptions.

one minute we were laughing stumbling down the hallway of the hotel….the next thing i know we are rolling around in bed. now i don’t even like jesse like that, but it never seems to matter once i hit a certain point. he likes me, i can’t really explain why i do the things i do.

i couldn’t tell you how long we were in bed for, all i’ve got is bits and pieces…flashes in my mind of different sections of time. after playtime was over i got dressed and sat my ass down at the desk again.

“you ready for another shot, hun?” he smiled and rubbed my shoulders. i smiled back. jesse is a really good friend, and i like spending time with him alot. i vaugley remeber wondering if sleeping with him was going to change our friendship. but again, i was in no condition for meaningful thought or feeling. so i did what i do best, i cooked up another shot. 

“isn’t that alot more than last time?” jesse asked, looking over my shoulder.

“eh” i shrugged it off without a second thought. i  was tied off and done before he could make another sentence.

i sat there for a moment, belt still around my arm. “can i get that tie, kaia?” he asked.  i passed it to him slowly.

why do i do this….what am i doing here….why is it always like this…i don’t understand. i was dreaming that same dream i have everytime i feel i’ve done too much drugs. when i had those bad trips, when i have a bad roll on e, when i am coming in and out of nods. that same feeling….my life on a loop in front of my eyes…pain and solitude and questions. how did i get back here….how do i get out…where is everyone….why am i always alone…..how do i fix this.  just thoughts in my head, completly unconscious.

as i came to i had a strange feeling. this isnt’ right.

“miss, what is your name, how old are you, how much heroin did you do tonight? who is that kid back at the hotel, how well do you know him. how long have you been using?” the questions shot off rapid fire. i opened my eyes.

ah, the ambulance.

i closed my eyes again. “my name is kaia, that kid is just a friend, i’ve been getting high a couple years. i don’t know how much i did. i’ve been clean until just recently.” tears were streaming down my face. this was a new low for me. the overdose.

“we just hit you with a shot of narcaine, we are bringing you to the nearest hospital, we think you should go to detox, but if you choose not to, that kid you call your friend may or may not show up to pick you up.” i turned away and cried the rest of the way to the hospital.

the staff in the emergency room was surprisingly gentle with me, which had not been my experience with other drug related hospital trips. most places treat you like a burden, like your life is not worth as much as some guy who just had a heart attack. they think we do it to ourselves, on purpose. trust me, this was the last thing i wanted.

as i came out a little bit more, the doctor talked to me.

“if your narcaine starts to wear off, we’ll have to hit you again. if you show good vitals we can let you go in four more hours.” i was hooked up to all kids of machines, IVs and monitors, it was a bad scene. the doctor walked out and it dawned on me, i have no idea where i am, where my purse is, or where to find jesse. i hope he shows up.

just as those thoughts were crossing my mind, i heard his voice in the hallway. “no i’m not family, i’m her boyfriend and you need to let me in.” that seemed like good enough reasoning for the staff, and jesse sat down next to me.

“killer first date, kaia.” he laughed. i was so glad to see him, relief finally came to me after a long time of complete despair and panic.

“sorry man, i didn’t mean to do this.”

“i know that, hun. you don’t need to apologise, we all do it sooner or later.” he shrugged. “i mean, i did my shot, looked over and you were on the bed, already turning blue. i tired to sit you up, but you were stiff as a friggin board. i was so fucking scared. i tried breathing into your mouth, but that only works on tv, i had no idea what i was doing. i didn’t want to, but i had to call 911. the paramedics worked on you while the cops worked on me. but because there was no dope left, and you were their main focus, they didn’t take me in. thankfully, or i wouldn’t be here.”

“jesus, dude, that shit sounds pretty serious.”

“fucking right, kid. i was flipping out.” he sat there and held my hand for a while.

the nurse came in and gave me the detox talk. i wasn’t having it. “well, if you change your mind and think you are ready for help, here are some numbers for you to call.” i passed the paper to jesse, and we continued watching “i love new york 2″ on the hospital tv.

now this is classic junky if i’ve ever seen it…..the narcaine started to wear off a few hours into our visit. i was having trouble staying awake again.

“you’re nodding pretty hard, hun.” jesse laughed. “you want me to call to nurse to narcaine you again?”

“hell no, what are you crazy? just keep a look out and help me straighten up before she comes in. i’m not getting hit with that shit again.” i smile, he laughed and we went on with our night.

just like that, like nothing had happened. not even out of the hospital yet. its a sad kind of acceptance you have when you are a junky. “these things happen, i was bound to od sooner or later. no big deal”

we checked out around 5am. they gave me a sheet for aftercare… i found the top line very comical.

1. do not use drugs. they are dangerous.

no fucking kidding.

we went back to the hotel and went to bed. i was glad to be back in what i considered a safe place. the whole ordeal was very surreal and frightening. but by the time we got back, i was suitably jammed again. and none of it seemed to matter. i was alive, and i would do better next time. already making excuses.
“it was totally because i was so hammered. i don’t make miscalculations like that normally. i just won’t get so drunk anymore.”
“yeah, that sounds like a solid plan. you wanna go with me to cop later?” jesse asked, pulling me close.

“nah, i’ve got plans today. but meet me @ my house after dinner time and we can party a little.” with that i fell asleep, completely oblivious to the fact that if i had died, like i very well could’ve, there would be no plans that day.

but somehow it’s so hard to hold onto that knowledge, when you’ve got a set full of distraction in your hand.

how can it be so easy, and still be so hard?

i was on the train from the city, back to my hometown. the time had come. my friend marc and i had been planning this party for weeks. we were celebrating my completion of the sober house…with…okay…guess….yes, insane ammounts of narcotics. ah, the wonders of the addicted mind. it made perfect sense to me at the time.

the train ride is about an hour and twenty minutes….and it was fucking tourture. i had been getting more and more amped at the prospect of getting high. as the day got closer i could feel it build in the pit of my stomach. it felt like a mix between childlike excitement and a fledgeling panic attack. by the time i was actually on my way home, i was twitching and fidgiting, sweaty palms and a dry mouth. it was incredible, the most blatent physical reaction i’ve experienced. like the twenty mintues before you drop e, or eat acid. rampant anticipation. i was sick with it.

i got off the train, and marc was parked in the lot, with some kids i don’t really know.  i got in the car, said hello, and got down to the heart of the matter.

“hand it over.” we parked in back of a dunkin donuts, and i cooked up a fat coke shot.  less than twenty seconds passed…that spike was in my arm, and the plunger was down.  my head was ringing before the rig was out of the vein, my mouth gaped open, and i was right back there again. like the past six months had never happened. that stupid smile crossed my face, and that sweet nausea was alive in my stomach.

so…..fucking…….high.

“anyways, its nice to see you.” i smiled at marc.

“yeah, you too, kaia. if i didn’t know better, i’d feel guilty about all this.” he handed me my other bag of coke and the bundle of dope i had kicked in on.

“yeah, but you know i’d be doing it with or without you.” i said, cleaning my set in a bottle of dasani. and it was true. if i hadn’t copped w/ marc, i’d have found someone else to hook me up. when you have your mind made up to get high, its just the way its gonna go down.

“why, have you been sober?” the kid driving asked.

“would’ve been six months tomorrow.” i said, half laughing….

“wow, that sux.” the kid said, started the car and drove out of the parking lot.

yeah, it sortof does. i thought. but there was no time to feel sorry for myself. i had more important things to do.

the night went on in the normal fasion.  nothing much had changed since i’d gone away. we sat in matt’s bedroom, shooting coke, shooting dope, dishing the hometown junky gossip. “………..this one’s back in jail, this one’s back on the clinic…this one lost her kids, this one’s on interferon….she’s dead, he’s missing….” and my head was spinning. so much drama, so much tragedy. and i was putting myself right back in it, on purpose.  if i wasn’t so trashed, it probably would’ve really gotten to me. 

i did a huge speedball, which i hadn’t done since february, and i thought i may have made a huge mistake. i barely had the rig out, licking the blood off my arm, and my heart was pounding out of my chest. sweat pouring down my back, my head ringing and my palms cold and clammy. i sat down at the kitchen table…

breath, kaia, fucking breath. what the fuck not now not after all this what the fuck where you thinking. breathe, fucking breathe.

it all cleared up after a few minutes, and as soon as the panic subsided, the fear was gone also. it’s insane how i could get a sign like that….cut the fucking shit now……and totally lose the meaning of it seconds later. matt’s wife jenny sat down w/ me. she handed me my set, full of dope. i took the shot without a second thought.

“you know where i’ve gotta go now, kaia? i’ve gotta go across town and visit my kids, who live w/ my mother. i lost them almost two years ago cuz i can’t fucking quit this shit.” she tossed her set on the table with disgust. ” i just can’t fucking stop. and i just don’t know what to do, or what to tell them when i see them. what am i supposed to say?” and she got up and walked out. marc and i said goodbye to matt, and took a cab back to my mom’s house.

we spent the rest of the night shooting up, conversing about the meaning of life, or lack thereof.  we talked about getting sober, getting lost, being alone, finding god, and getting high. it was nice to spend time with him, but after he left i had that same empty feeling i get after every time i go on a shooting spree. nothing fills that void. after he went home, i did two  more bags, drank a ton of beer, and passed out. it was like no time had passed at all. i was back in my room @ my mom’s house, waisted and alone.

the next morning i was supposed to move all my shit from my mom’s house to my new place in the city. needless to say i was up all night, so fucking high….scratching and in and out of dope dreams. by the time my mom woke me up i was overtired and still super high.

but, the completely typical junky i am, i *had* to get high in the morning. so as my mom is knocking on the door, asking me if i need coffee, i was taking the a.m. cure. “sure mom, coffee would be stellar.” that dope taste in my  mouth. mmm……

i stumbled downstairs, the thought creeping into my head….maybe i did too much……

the next thing i remember, i am coming out of a nod, facedown in my mom’s basement. i guess i may have been trying to pack my shit. i don’t know how long i was down there. but i had apperantly also been puking in a mop bucket down there. my mom was yelling at me from upstairs. yeah, needless to say, i’d done too much.

i spent the rest of the day talking my mom down from tweaking out.

“i know something is wrong, what’s wrong.”

“calm down, i’m just tired, i’ve got alot going on.”

“you promise you’re okay.”

“seriously, get off my back, i’m okay.”

and there is another example about how you regress right back to old behaviors…..one day getting high, and i’m already talking down to my mom, lying to her, making her feel like she’s crazy just to keep her off my back.  all the love i gave her in the past six months….all the ammends i’ve made, all the time i’ve spent showing her respect, thanking her for all she’s done….it all went right down the toilet with this one conversation.  i was right back to being the condescending junky bitch. and i could see it in her face.

so they drove me back to the city….the drive was long, but i don’t really remember any of it. nodding the whole time, half hearing my mom and my brother talking about how sickly i look, how worried they are. and none of it mattered to me.

none of it mattered as they drove away and left me alone. none of it mattered as i sat on the floor in my new bedroom, and cooked up without missing a beat. all that sadness and pain i had just bore witness to, participated in, or been the cause of….it was all inconsequential as i tied off one more time, and put it all out of my head. alone in my room, just me and the dope. i don’t understand how it can be so easy and so hard at the same time…..to go back and to be that girl all over again. so easy to put it out of my head, so hard to let it go once it’s there….so easy to start this bullshit all over, so hard to forgive myself now that i’m there.  now the question is. where do i go from here?

mixed feelings

don’t have time to give the full throttle update i’m longing to…but here’s a teaser.

went to biscuits halloween show, got wrecked.

been getting high on weekends….yeah, i know what you’re thinking.

been coming in and out of sanity at a rapid speed that keeps even my pretty little head spinning.

hopefully i can elaborate soon.