Although 2017 was the culmination of the effects of my drug use, it was about this time last year that things started to rapidly spiral out of control. Having said that I guess the spiral began way before then, it just accelerated in the second half of last year.
My life took turns that led me to believe I couldn’t carry on, I couldn’t face what my life had become. My only escape from those feelings was a syringe full of crystal meth, the sweet escape of that amazing rush. As my mental health deteriorated my drug use increased, it was a viscous cycle. Meth could take me from suicidal to cloud nine in a matter of seconds, only problem was my stupid head didn’t realise that once I came down from the high, the lows got progressively worse.
So now I’m facing the first anniversaries of everything that was so bad. I know they don’t really mean anything, and there are very few specific dates, but knowing the sort of things I was doing exactly a year ago fills me with some strange thoughts.
There are thoughts of shame, sadness, and self pity, but part of me still craves that high. I guess strength comes from knowing that the cravings are just that, knowing that I can beat them, strength comes from remembering how bad things were.
Very few people know just how bad things were, there are things I have only shared with my counsellor, and things I didn’t even share with her, certainly things I wouldn’t share on here. Sharing them now wouldn’t achieve anything, they are nothing more than history.
My goal is to remember how bad things got, but to not let it consume me. If I forget then I could become complacent, and that could lead to mistakes, and if I let it consume me then that could lead to the same mistakes hoping for a route to relief.
I need to learn from history and to not let it destroy me.