My Dear Amanda, I am not sure how to even start this letter. I am not sure what to say to you. It's so bizarre writing a letter like this, I am not even sure what to call this letter. Is it a goodbye or a death letter or what? Mandy, I love you so much, and I always have. I am well aware that you kind of hate me, or strongly dislike me at this point.
The first thing I want you to know and have no doubt about is that I never hurt your Mother or your sisters, well, physically anyway. I know I hurt all of you mentally, emotionally and any other possible way that isn't physical. I really hate that I have to defend myself in this way because I always took pride in the way I treated you all. I had a goal when I first got married and had kids to not only never lay a hand on you guys, but to never even raise my voice at any of you. I know I failed at the yelling but I did not hurt you girls or your Mother. I am getting all these accusations and anonymous calls from people calling me "wife beater" or "abuser" just stuff like that. I can't remember all of it, I have tried to block it out for the most part. I just can't figure out what is going on, if it's you guys punishing me or if you all started spreading rumors to cause me pain. I always picture you guys telling someone and sitting back and laughing at me. It's ok now, because I know the truth and you and your sisters know the truth. At this point in time that is all I care about and once I am gone I am sure you will do the right thing and stop all that talk. I just don't know what else to say about that, if you guys were doing it to hurt me, well, bullseye, I commend you. Not much I can do about it, once a rumor like that is out its out and nobody believes me. I want you to know that I forgive you and your sisters for starting that rumor. I don't blame you after all the pain I have caused you all. I also want you to know that it had absolutely know part in the decision I made to do what I have done. I didn't end my life because of that. I just do not want any of you to think you made me do what I did. The truth is I lived a lot longer than I thought I would or planned to because of you.
Ok, now that I have cleared that up I want to tell you how I feel. To this day Mandy, the greatest, most happy moment of my life was when you were born and I held you. You have heard this story a million times but I never want you to forget it. I had a special bond with you and I know it and you know it. You can get mad at me and say you hate me but when I look into your eyes and see your face, I know you love me. I smile everytime I think about you Mandy. You are so special. I am sorry but you have a lot of my charcteristics. Some of them are a blessing and some of them are a curse. I see a lot of the things you do and I remember doing or feeling the same things. I truly hope and pray that you will be able to overcome the bad things I passed down to you and use the good things to make your life better. You think that I am a bad person Mandy, but I'm not. I treat people the best that I can and I make people feel good about themselves. I know I could have done more Mandy and I am afraid that I could have been a great man, but there was just something wrong with me, I couldn't do anything right. I have always loved you Mandy. Let there be no doubt about that.
Sunday, February 21, 2016
Saturday, February 20, 2016
Update
well, I am now 47 years old. I live alone in the avenues I still see and talk to my 3 daughters often and I even have to grandsons thanks to Mandy. Their names are Trace and Jack. I am madly in love, I actually think for the very first time in my life.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
FOR SAMANTHA
Hi Samantha, I am sad that I didn't get to see you again and hug you and laugh with you. It's just as well I suppose, I hate to admit it, but you just might be better off without me. I kind of find that hard to believe because I love you so much. I
Saturday, December 15, 2012
June 29, 2007
Friday, June 29, 2007
hello (cont 2)
So, where was I? Oh ya.So we are just plugging along as a family. We're doing ok, but we are definately having struggles. Many of them financial. My wife was extremely patient and loving but I think she was getting to the point where she needed more. She wanted out of that basement. A major problem in the past was our religion. We were both raised LDS or Mormon as many people know us. My wife desperately wanted a man who could take her to the temple, lead the family in scripture study, family prayer all the things that she would call "normal." We were married two weeks after my 20thbirthday and she wasn't even 18 and pregnant. 6 months later we went to the temple and were sealed to my 1st child. I was doing it for all the wrong reasons, I wasn't sure. I just knew this is what everyone told us we were supposed to do. The next time I went to the temple was about 10 years later. It was after my 1st rehab, I was already back on drugs. I was under immense pressure to get my temple recommend and go back. The Bishop was pushing, my wife was pushing, our friends were pushing. If I was off drugs like I said, why wasn't I going to the temple. I had no choice in my mind. I told everyone what they wanted to hear and there I was, at the temple. Worst feeling in my life, I never went back.
So we found a house, near our old house that we might be able to afford. I would have to have my Dad buy the house because my credit was destroyed. I was going through a bakruptcy and wasn't making very much money. I think my dad just thought I needed to get out of that basement and into a house like a normal family.
I had only moved back in with my family for about 3 months when we moved into our new house. Everything was going good, except financially. Then one day I was working on a side job and I fell and hurt my neck. I didn't think much of it, my neck was stiff and hurt all the time. At work I was sitting at a computer all day and I was having a hard time with the pain. Finally, my little brother and his friends, he works with all his friends, said that I should go see a doctor. I mean I had insurance I might have something really wrong. so off I went to the insta-care. I didn't tell my wife or anyone I was going, I just went. The Insta-Care Dr. thought that it was serious enough that he ordered an MRI for that day. Still, I didn't tell anyone what I was doing. So after the MRI the Radiologist came out with the films. He said that I had herniated two discs and one other one was bulging badly. He said I needed to see a Nuero Surgeon right away and he would make me an appointment. He explained my injury in detail after that but all I can remember is blah blah blah blah blah the surgeon will give you something for the pain. I kind of froze, I was still clean from the Cali rehab but I think I knew what I was doing. Why would I do all that without telling anyone. So I went to the surgeon. Sure enough he said I needed surgery. I asked if I could try physical therapy first. that was just a ploy to stretch out the painkillers. I would just go to PT and then tell the Dr. it wasn't working. I was still clean but already thinking like that. So he wrote me some Percocet. I sat in my car looking at them for awhile, then I chewed two of them up and crushed and snorted two more. It felt so good, so great. I remembered how great it felt. I was back on the shit. But this time i was telling myself "no OC's, just the fast acting stuff". I was kidding myself into thinking I could get off them myself. I kept putting the surgery off, making excused until the surgeons office said no more. So I was in trouble. No more refills. The doc even called me and said he thought I might have a problem and to get treatment. I was screwed. Then I remembered a friend of mine who had died about 6 months earlier was going to a pain specialist. He was a spine dr. and used prolotherapy. That is a series of shots into the injured area that is supposed to be an alternative to surgery. I knew this guy would write heavy painkillers. I finally found him and set up an appt.
I will finish next time. got to go,
peace
0 comments So we found a house, near our old house that we might be able to afford. I would have to have my Dad buy the house because my credit was destroyed. I was going through a bakruptcy and wasn't making very much money. I think my dad just thought I needed to get out of that basement and into a house like a normal family.
I had only moved back in with my family for about 3 months when we moved into our new house. Everything was going good, except financially. Then one day I was working on a side job and I fell and hurt my neck. I didn't think much of it, my neck was stiff and hurt all the time. At work I was sitting at a computer all day and I was having a hard time with the pain. Finally, my little brother and his friends, he works with all his friends, said that I should go see a doctor. I mean I had insurance I might have something really wrong. so off I went to the insta-care. I didn't tell my wife or anyone I was going, I just went. The Insta-Care Dr. thought that it was serious enough that he ordered an MRI for that day. Still, I didn't tell anyone what I was doing. So after the MRI the Radiologist came out with the films. He said that I had herniated two discs and one other one was bulging badly. He said I needed to see a Nuero Surgeon right away and he would make me an appointment. He explained my injury in detail after that but all I can remember is blah blah blah blah blah the surgeon will give you something for the pain. I kind of froze, I was still clean from the Cali rehab but I think I knew what I was doing. Why would I do all that without telling anyone. So I went to the surgeon. Sure enough he said I needed surgery. I asked if I could try physical therapy first. that was just a ploy to stretch out the painkillers. I would just go to PT and then tell the Dr. it wasn't working. I was still clean but already thinking like that. So he wrote me some Percocet. I sat in my car looking at them for awhile, then I chewed two of them up and crushed and snorted two more. It felt so good, so great. I remembered how great it felt. I was back on the shit. But this time i was telling myself "no OC's, just the fast acting stuff". I was kidding myself into thinking I could get off them myself. I kept putting the surgery off, making excused until the surgeons office said no more. So I was in trouble. No more refills. The doc even called me and said he thought I might have a problem and to get treatment. I was screwed. Then I remembered a friend of mine who had died about 6 months earlier was going to a pain specialist. He was a spine dr. and used prolotherapy. That is a series of shots into the injured area that is supposed to be an alternative to surgery. I knew this guy would write heavy painkillers. I finally found him and set up an appt.
I will finish next time. got to go,
peace
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Hello(cont)
So, back to where I left off in getting you up to date on my life. Really up to date on how I have ended up where I currently am. I left for So. Cal. It was hard to leave my family at that time. Even though my wife and I were separated we still spent a lot of time together and I was with my kids a lot. I was just always high. However, that really meant normal. People always say how could you be around your kids messed up and not thinking clearly. Well trust me, I was normal when I took OC. I wasn't getting high anymore, just not sick. If you have never been dope sick then you don't really know what I am talking about. There is really no way to explain it. It is the most brutal, relentless, painful sickness you could ever imagine. When I hear about all these guys walking into pharmacies with guns and robbing them for OC's I know exactly how they feel. Trust me that is not a big leap from where I have been many times. I have never done something like that because I am too scared of Jonesing my ass off in jail. I cannot think of a worse place to go through withdrawals than in jail. With all these other guys watching you in pain, sweating your ass off and the worst case of the shits you could ever imagine. I also think of my kids when I start thinking like that. Being strung out on prescription drugs is bad enough, but now having to deal with a father in jail is just too much. like I say, "you have to be a bad ass to be a junkie".
Mostly what I remember about leaving for Cali is the night before I left I was staying in my parents basement. I had enough stuff to get me through the night and all the way through the next day. I would arrive in Cal at 2p.m. so I new I had plenty to get by. I was all alone and planning to get really fucked up, I guess to see if I even could get fucked up any more. Then my oldest sister showed up. She said she was scared for me and just wanted to spend some time with me before I left. I will never forget that, it was one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. I thought no body wanted anything to do with me at that point. We just hung out and had a good time talking. I can't recall if I got high in front of her or if I went into the other room and told her what I was doing, but either way she was awesome and super cool about everything. I do remember right before I went to bed hiding a OC 40mg and four 10mg IR pills (IR=instant release OC) deep in my closet where no one would find them for the night I got home because surely I wouldn't be returning home to my own family. By this time my wife had a divorce lawyer and just couldn't take anymore. I was on my 2nd rehab and who new if this would work any better than the first. I didn't blame her at all and I was trying to come to grips with it. What it would be like when I got home. Her with another man was tough, another man living with my kids really tough. Things like that, but I had to deal with it "you have to be a bad ass to be a junkie". I was struggling with all that. So any way I left and got home three and a half months later. I will fill you in on both rehab stints later. I have a ton of stuff I need to say from both places. I could talk to my wife about twice a week in cali. We would talk mostly about the kids, I would talk with them as well. I just remember trying to keep everything really generic like we were already divorced, I didn't want it to be an ugly divorce. I would take all the blame even though she had her problems as well. She just didn't see them. She really took to the poor picked on wife who has been through hell, well I guess she had. I will go into all this later. One day toward the end she started talking a little different, saying that she loved me and was saying I sounded great. "The old Sam is back", she would say. I didn't see it. I felt great but I didn't see the change based on our converstions. then she told me she had gotten rid of her lawyer and wanted to come out at my graduation and stay with me a couple of days and come home with me. I was blindsided, I had just barely come to grips with getting divorced and kind of excited to come home to a new start. Don't get me wrong I was happy, just a huge surprise. I wasn't sure how I really felt. But for the kids sake it was a no-brainer, my marriage was saved. I don't know if it was the best thing for me or for her, but i think it was best for the kids. So we got home and everything was great. For about a year. I was working for my little brother in a low stress-low pay job. We had lost our house and were living in a basement apartment. Trying to keep my life as low stress as possible. I would do construction side jobs in the evenings and weekends. It was working, but it could not last. the apt. was in my wives sisters basement and it was big and brand new so it wasn't too bad. The hard part is that it was next to the house that I had built for my family only three years earlier. It was a nice house and now the bank owned it. My kids would sit on it's lawn and look at it and cry sometimes. That was tough, but hey I was a bad ass, I could deal with it.
Well that is as far as I have time to go today. I will try to finish next time.
peace.
0 comments Mostly what I remember about leaving for Cali is the night before I left I was staying in my parents basement. I had enough stuff to get me through the night and all the way through the next day. I would arrive in Cal at 2p.m. so I new I had plenty to get by. I was all alone and planning to get really fucked up, I guess to see if I even could get fucked up any more. Then my oldest sister showed up. She said she was scared for me and just wanted to spend some time with me before I left. I will never forget that, it was one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. I thought no body wanted anything to do with me at that point. We just hung out and had a good time talking. I can't recall if I got high in front of her or if I went into the other room and told her what I was doing, but either way she was awesome and super cool about everything. I do remember right before I went to bed hiding a OC 40mg and four 10mg IR pills (IR=instant release OC) deep in my closet where no one would find them for the night I got home because surely I wouldn't be returning home to my own family. By this time my wife had a divorce lawyer and just couldn't take anymore. I was on my 2nd rehab and who new if this would work any better than the first. I didn't blame her at all and I was trying to come to grips with it. What it would be like when I got home. Her with another man was tough, another man living with my kids really tough. Things like that, but I had to deal with it "you have to be a bad ass to be a junkie". I was struggling with all that. So any way I left and got home three and a half months later. I will fill you in on both rehab stints later. I have a ton of stuff I need to say from both places. I could talk to my wife about twice a week in cali. We would talk mostly about the kids, I would talk with them as well. I just remember trying to keep everything really generic like we were already divorced, I didn't want it to be an ugly divorce. I would take all the blame even though she had her problems as well. She just didn't see them. She really took to the poor picked on wife who has been through hell, well I guess she had. I will go into all this later. One day toward the end she started talking a little different, saying that she loved me and was saying I sounded great. "The old Sam is back", she would say. I didn't see it. I felt great but I didn't see the change based on our converstions. then she told me she had gotten rid of her lawyer and wanted to come out at my graduation and stay with me a couple of days and come home with me. I was blindsided, I had just barely come to grips with getting divorced and kind of excited to come home to a new start. Don't get me wrong I was happy, just a huge surprise. I wasn't sure how I really felt. But for the kids sake it was a no-brainer, my marriage was saved. I don't know if it was the best thing for me or for her, but i think it was best for the kids. So we got home and everything was great. For about a year. I was working for my little brother in a low stress-low pay job. We had lost our house and were living in a basement apartment. Trying to keep my life as low stress as possible. I would do construction side jobs in the evenings and weekends. It was working, but it could not last. the apt. was in my wives sisters basement and it was big and brand new so it wasn't too bad. The hard part is that it was next to the house that I had built for my family only three years earlier. It was a nice house and now the bank owned it. My kids would sit on it's lawn and look at it and cry sometimes. That was tough, but hey I was a bad ass, I could deal with it.
Well that is as far as I have time to go today. I will try to finish next time.
peace.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
The Hooks
I was actually planning on finishing catching you up on my life in this post. However, I feel compelled to talk about something else today.
I would call them "Hooks". Others would call them drug dealers. I have had so many over the years, but I wanted to talk about one in particular. There are many interesting people in the drug world and you really meet a lot of them. It is a world of fake names, fake intentions and manipulation. You really have to be able to read people or you can get burned fast. Some dealers just want the money, some are friends, some are fake friends and some really care. I know that people will always say if they are selling you drugs they don't care and they are not your friend. That is not alway true, but in rehab situations of course you just agree to it.
The guy I want to talk about really wanted me to believe he was a friend but I never believed it. Or anything he said.
This was before any of my rehab stints and was just going along trying to find pills wherever I could. That is when I got hooked up with (we will just call him Bugsy, that is not his name or even close to his name) Bugsy. I had been buying from Bugsy through another guy for a couple on months and finally got bugsy's number. This was great because the higher up you could get meant you could buy cheaper and larger quantities. He agreed to meet me, we made a few deals, everything was great. His prices were a little high but he was very steady, always accessible and always had plenty of product. He was sellling Lortab, percs, or vikings (vicodin) for $6-$8 dollars per. That was about the going rate so it was a great situation. After a couple of months, as soon as he thought I had burned all my other hooks he drops the bomb on me that his guy will only sell in quantities of 100 pills at a time. SHIT. I looked him in the eye and said how in the fuck am I supposed to come up with $800 dollars at a time. He apologized and said he would try to fix it but he knew he had me by the balls and I would come up with it. At the time I had my own Heating and Air Conditioning business and I was making really good money. so at first it was OK, even though I knew Bugsy was lieing and it really pissed me off. It was just more convenient for him and I am sure he could buy them cheaped at these quantities. I would guess if he had others buying 100 at a time and I know for sure of atleast two others, that he was getting them for probably $3 or $4 a peice nice money huh. Pretty soon I am buying from him like 3 times a week and he wasn't cutting any slack, he knew he owned me.
One time I had a Daddy-Daughter date and I didn't have the cash. He had the product and I was out. I said dude atleast give me some to get me through the night, his answer was I don't have them, I have to pay to get them. go to one of those check cashing places, money stores were popping up all over in suburban Denver. I said,please I am with my daughter and I won't be out of this movie until atleast 9 or 9:30, they will all be closed. His compassionate answer was"I know this chick who's dad owns a check cashing place, I will ask her to come down and open it up for you. they will hold your check until tomorrow. I just couldn't do it to my daughter, I had wasted enough time talking on the phone. I just had to gut it out. I have always said "You have to be a bad ass, to be a junkie". I scored the next morning but I was going to get away from Bugsy ASAP. When he would deliver product he would alway say, "Hey Dude, Could I score a few of those Scooby Snacks from you for my old Lady? Since I am hardly making shit on these deals. I pretty much do them for free, for you". Then he would take 5-10 for himself. All dealers say that they don't use, that is why he said they were for his girlfriend. what an asshole! He had me, he owned me. Nothing I could do.
That is about the time Oxycontin came out. I started experimenting with that a little. bugsy could not score OC's (oxycontin). He was freaking out. He would always want to have these big heart to heart talks with me, he would tell me how much he cared about me and that OC's were no good. He would always say "stick to fast acting stuff, you can get off of them any time you want. I will even set up a program for you to help you taper. But if you get on Oxy's you'll never get off". trust me, by this time I wasn't getting off anything without help. He just didn't want to lose an awesome customer. Well over time I did switch over and lost touch with Bugsy. I would see him at funerals of mutual friends and around town and we would small talk, but I think he is a total peice of shit. I know I am a big boy, and I made my own choices, but he could hve given me a break now and then, he knew when I was tight financially. He always chose to just tighten the screws.
I have many other hook stories, some of them are really not bad guys. I just wanted to get this one down so I could read it and look at it and maybe get over the guilt of all the money and time I wasted chasing him down. It was always meet me here @ a certain time. I go there 15 minutes early and wait for an hour then he calls sorry I am late I need you to come here, to another location. Sometimes it would take all day. I spent many days chasing drugs. It is alway like that no matter who the dealer is. that is why the last 4 or 5 years have been so nice. It just been pharmacies, no peice of shit, asshole hook to deal with. I guess after that comment I really should bring you up to date on my story. Maybe next time if I have the time. sorry this is so long and boring, but it really just for me to say it and think about it and read it from time to time. It makes me look at me kids and want to cry, but I like that feeling, I like feeling miserable and depressed and feel dope sick because I deserve it. I think I need to feel shitty, but I also need to be a good father right now and that is hard to fake. So I do my best to deal with the guilt and pain and take the medication my doctor gives me. Sometimes I don't take it for a while so I can hurt, I mean really hurt. If you have ever been strung out on Heroin you know what I am talking about. I am no better than your average heroin junkie. I am just a high acheiving junkie. well I didn't mean to go into all that.
peace
0 comments I would call them "Hooks". Others would call them drug dealers. I have had so many over the years, but I wanted to talk about one in particular. There are many interesting people in the drug world and you really meet a lot of them. It is a world of fake names, fake intentions and manipulation. You really have to be able to read people or you can get burned fast. Some dealers just want the money, some are friends, some are fake friends and some really care. I know that people will always say if they are selling you drugs they don't care and they are not your friend. That is not alway true, but in rehab situations of course you just agree to it.
The guy I want to talk about really wanted me to believe he was a friend but I never believed it. Or anything he said.
This was before any of my rehab stints and was just going along trying to find pills wherever I could. That is when I got hooked up with (we will just call him Bugsy, that is not his name or even close to his name) Bugsy. I had been buying from Bugsy through another guy for a couple on months and finally got bugsy's number. This was great because the higher up you could get meant you could buy cheaper and larger quantities. He agreed to meet me, we made a few deals, everything was great. His prices were a little high but he was very steady, always accessible and always had plenty of product. He was sellling Lortab, percs, or vikings (vicodin) for $6-$8 dollars per. That was about the going rate so it was a great situation. After a couple of months, as soon as he thought I had burned all my other hooks he drops the bomb on me that his guy will only sell in quantities of 100 pills at a time. SHIT. I looked him in the eye and said how in the fuck am I supposed to come up with $800 dollars at a time. He apologized and said he would try to fix it but he knew he had me by the balls and I would come up with it. At the time I had my own Heating and Air Conditioning business and I was making really good money. so at first it was OK, even though I knew Bugsy was lieing and it really pissed me off. It was just more convenient for him and I am sure he could buy them cheaped at these quantities. I would guess if he had others buying 100 at a time and I know for sure of atleast two others, that he was getting them for probably $3 or $4 a peice nice money huh. Pretty soon I am buying from him like 3 times a week and he wasn't cutting any slack, he knew he owned me.
One time I had a Daddy-Daughter date and I didn't have the cash. He had the product and I was out. I said dude atleast give me some to get me through the night, his answer was I don't have them, I have to pay to get them. go to one of those check cashing places, money stores were popping up all over in suburban Denver. I said,please I am with my daughter and I won't be out of this movie until atleast 9 or 9:30, they will all be closed. His compassionate answer was"I know this chick who's dad owns a check cashing place, I will ask her to come down and open it up for you. they will hold your check until tomorrow. I just couldn't do it to my daughter, I had wasted enough time talking on the phone. I just had to gut it out. I have always said "You have to be a bad ass, to be a junkie". I scored the next morning but I was going to get away from Bugsy ASAP. When he would deliver product he would alway say, "Hey Dude, Could I score a few of those Scooby Snacks from you for my old Lady? Since I am hardly making shit on these deals. I pretty much do them for free, for you". Then he would take 5-10 for himself. All dealers say that they don't use, that is why he said they were for his girlfriend. what an asshole! He had me, he owned me. Nothing I could do.
That is about the time Oxycontin came out. I started experimenting with that a little. bugsy could not score OC's (oxycontin). He was freaking out. He would always want to have these big heart to heart talks with me, he would tell me how much he cared about me and that OC's were no good. He would always say "stick to fast acting stuff, you can get off of them any time you want. I will even set up a program for you to help you taper. But if you get on Oxy's you'll never get off". trust me, by this time I wasn't getting off anything without help. He just didn't want to lose an awesome customer. Well over time I did switch over and lost touch with Bugsy. I would see him at funerals of mutual friends and around town and we would small talk, but I think he is a total peice of shit. I know I am a big boy, and I made my own choices, but he could hve given me a break now and then, he knew when I was tight financially. He always chose to just tighten the screws.
I have many other hook stories, some of them are really not bad guys. I just wanted to get this one down so I could read it and look at it and maybe get over the guilt of all the money and time I wasted chasing him down. It was always meet me here @ a certain time. I go there 15 minutes early and wait for an hour then he calls sorry I am late I need you to come here, to another location. Sometimes it would take all day. I spent many days chasing drugs. It is alway like that no matter who the dealer is. that is why the last 4 or 5 years have been so nice. It just been pharmacies, no peice of shit, asshole hook to deal with. I guess after that comment I really should bring you up to date on my story. Maybe next time if I have the time. sorry this is so long and boring, but it really just for me to say it and think about it and read it from time to time. It makes me look at me kids and want to cry, but I like that feeling, I like feeling miserable and depressed and feel dope sick because I deserve it. I think I need to feel shitty, but I also need to be a good father right now and that is hard to fake. So I do my best to deal with the guilt and pain and take the medication my doctor gives me. Sometimes I don't take it for a while so I can hurt, I mean really hurt. If you have ever been strung out on Heroin you know what I am talking about. I am no better than your average heroin junkie. I am just a high acheiving junkie. well I didn't mean to go into all that.
peace
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
hello
Hi, My name as you might have guessed is Sam. This blog is not really about how hard it is to be a Sam, rather how it is to be me. It is only hard because I have made it hard. I am a 30 something father who has been married nearly 20 years. And that is not the hard part. I am a recovering, rather I am an addict. I have been through rehab 2 times and now I am trying to get clean again. This time without a rehab, but with medication from a Doctor. I would say that I have been taking either drugs or alcohol since about the 9th grade. Once I was a Junior in high school, it was every day and then I backed it down to on the weekends only. Then I found painkillers. Through a series of knee surgeries, I found out that I could feel great all the time. that was fine for about 8 years until I was taking about 60-80 Lortab or Vicodin a day. that was killing me financially. then I found Oxycontin, I thought my prayers were answered. Something that lasted longer, and was an awesome high. then the price on those started going through the roof, then my first rehab. I was probably about 28 years old and it was a 12 step type rehab. Once I finished my 28 days there I lasted about 2 months. I really had no chance, all I thought about was getting high. my body ached, I couldn't sleep unless sedated and my head never felt clear. After my first OC (Oxycontin) the fog was lifted, I was pain free and everything was great. Of course I was back on the shit, but who cares I was living again. I could work, interact socially and felt great. I just spent all my time trying to find drugs and got separated from my wife and kids, but who cares, I was getting high. I even was living in my car. It was awesome. After I crashed and burned that time it was off to another rehab in California that was based on Scientology and had a Sauna treatment included.
Well that is all for now, I will pick this back up later and maybe fill in some of the details and get you up to date on what is going on now.
peace.
Well that is all for now, I will pick this back up later and maybe fill in some of the details and get you up to date on what is going on now.
peace.
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