“Your best days are ahead of you. The movie starts when the guy gets sober and puts his life back together; it doesn’t end there.” – Bucky Sinister
I tell myself every day that sobriety is better and that one day, if I stay on the right path, I will get my children back living with me again. Most days, this is very plausible and believable and, while never easy, it seems doable. There are a million positive benefits to my life and to the lives of those around me since I quit using meth and another million reasons why I shouldn’t ever use again.
Once in a while though, for whatever reason, my mind can’t believe any of that and all I want to do is feel the relief of being actively addicted again. I don’t just mean I want to be high, I mean I want to be so obsessed with my drugs that I forget about everything else going on. Forget that my daughter is almost a teenager and that it’s almost too late to get her back. What if she gets to be an adult and I was never able to get her back? Why did I stay sober at all?
I know the answer to that like I know my own name. Even if I don’t get them back, I still need to be sober for them. I can’t support them, even from a far, on drugs.
I built a special kind of hell for myself, didn’t I? I love them too much to do drugs again but I’m insanely bored being sober.
And really, the urges never stop. You just get used to them.
It hits me when I don’t expect it, like when I’m opening the door to my home, though I’ve moved several times since the last time I used. It hits me at the expected times too, of course, when I drink or when I want to stay up late cleaning.
I know I won’t use. I’m confident in my resolve, it takes a lot more than fleeting urges to get me off my path. Even thousands of them can’t phase me.
But I do miss how beautiful the sunrise is after four days of not sleeping…