Counting days, I hate counting days…

I woke up today after my whopping four hours of sleep wondering just exactly what fresh hell I would walk into today. It’s something everyday, always. It seems like every time I try to get clean the universe piles shit on thicker than I can carry. And I got it. Naturally. It started out innocent enough. I got a Facebook notification and my ex’s sister-in-law had commented on a photo of my girl and me. So, of course I go be nosy (BIG mistake) and there is a picture of the whole family at a birthday party a couple days ago. It hit me like a motherfucking train. I got physically sick. I cried so hard I thought it would never stop. I knew in that moment that that part of my life is over. He’s smiling and happy and with his huge, tight family close. And I’m sitting here alone. He’s done. I’m not. I should be. I know better. We are like a tornado meets a volcano (props Eminem).

And I want to get high. I just want to get high. I miss him so much it hurts.

Then the phone rings. It was like a miracle for real. It was my current husband. I locked the keys in one of my trucks and he was coming to bail me out…again. He’s such a good man. He is always here, always. I avoid him like everything when I’m getting high and being with Jim (the ex) who was once upon a time like a son to him. He should hate me. He has every right. But every time I am trying to get clean and get away from Jim I call on him. And he comes. He’s too good for me. I don’t deserve him but he always comes. That’s almost as hard to think about as missing my Jimmy.

And I still want to get high. Just forget it all for a while. I don’t like looking at what a mess I’ve made. But I have to. These pills are trying to kill me and I’m just about to let them. It’s been almost 11 days since I had one of those little blue devils. 11 hard ass days. 9 days since Jimmy left. Counting days, I hate counting days, but that’s what we addicts do when we are trying to kick.

I feel like it is look at it or die at this point. Some days that second alternative looks not so bad.

It’s a sick life I lead.


Day 10 Can Kiss My Ass! I Beat You!

I’m 10 days clean today from about about a 300 mg a day oxy habit and 8 days out of a sucky ass relationship after many, many relapses on both . That’s a story for another day, though. I have a story, a long one, I want to tell but the only way I can tell it I think is backwards. I am doing this mainly to get the shit out of my head and hey, maybe some of my words might just help someone out. That would certainly be a change.

For now I just want to talk about today. Today sucked ass and was great all at the same time. I know how stupid that sounds but its the truth. I felt like hell most of the day and laid here and did nothing. My girl sat in her room mad all day because she’s grounded. She had to finally come out to eat about 7 or so. I surely didn’t have it in me to cook for her so we went out and talked and had a good time.

I told her I was thinking about my next tattoo and we got started talking and looking at pictures and the freakiest shit started happening. Her daddy was murdered in front of us four years ago but he was here with us as sure as I am sitting here now. We call them freaky deakys when things happens that we just know are him hanging around. I started out with an idea for a tattoo and when me, her and her daddy were done we had the perfect one chosen. It is pretty badass if I do say so myself.

So that got us to talking about her daddy and what happened and we talked and laughed and cried playing all his favorite songs. That’s the first time that we have talked about the things we talked about in years. We speak of him often, probably every single day, but only good happy thoughts, not the bad day, never that. It was beautiful and horrid all at the same time.

To be perfectly honest that was the first time we had talked at all in a long time. I’ve spent the last year or so worrying about nothing but pills and a man that I know is worse than bad for me. But talk we did. We ended up talking about absolutely everything. She just went to bed like 20 minutes ago and its 4 in the morning. It was great. It should have been the been the best day I’ve had in a long time all except it wasn’t.

The whole time I was sitting here wanting a pill (or 10) so bad I could taste it. My legs are killing me and my stomach is a mess. I am a few days past physical withdrawals so I know it’s all in my head now. I was wanting to run from all this crazy shit in my head. Still want to. Even though I can see it getting better already I want to run. How fucking stupid. I spent the first night with my only child that I have in at least a year. I have been too busy being high to spend a whole night just talking like girls. I know it’s better already and I still want a pill. I hate this shit. I hate it. I talked to her a lot about this too. I really didn’t hold back. I want her to see how ugly it is and how hard it is but how easy it is to get this way.

Right before she went to bed she was hugging me and saying she hoped I could sleep. She reminded how good I used to be at it and I said maybe baby six months from now if I can stay off these damn pills I’ll be sleeping all day again. She took a step back and took both my hands in hers and looked me square in the eye and said “you can do it mommy, you CAN do it”. How fucking lucky am I? That’s a 14 year old girl! She is an old soul for sure. She’s such a good kid.

And I still would love love love to have justa few more. That’s shameful. My legs feel like they are on fire and I want to scream and I just want a pill like yesterday. I don’t understand why I feel this way when I can see my life getting better already. I hope this does get easier because I cannot take this. For real. I’m having drastic thoughts. Fleeting, but drastic.