No Hope

It has been 3 months since i last posted a blog about my recovery.

I was doing a miraculous job by staying clean. I removed all contacts that were involved in the drug scene. I got my son back two nights a week and am able to see him whenever I please. I got a new place, not a motel room, but an actual unit by the beach. I have even found myself a new man. He is positive and takes care of me.

But I also have to admit. I fell back into satan’s arms. I turned back to the pipe. I am not proud. I am not at all happy. I am hating myself. How could i continue to fail? I am now covered in scabs all hidden by clothes and my insecurity has raised its ugly head. I’m finding it difficult to go out and socialize. Wherever I go or whoever I talk to meth seems to come up in conversation or a pipe is bought out. Temptation took its toll, it broke me. I became weak, I failed.

People who are not addicted or who have never been addicted wont understand. They will be reading this shaking their heads, judging or asking “how could you?” “why?” I can’t answer those questions. I ask myself those same questions as I am shaking on my bed, picking at my once perfect skin, crying uncontrollably. I ask these questions and come up with an unbearable answer I can’t go through with. Suicide.

I’m nothing but an ice head, nothing but a junkie, useless and pathetic. I don’t deserve to be a mother or a wife. I am undeserving of love and affection. Nobody will miss me…These are all quotes from people to me. From complete strangers to the closest people i know as family. Why wouldn’t suicide cross my mind? If all these people from a far stretched variety see nothing but negativity than how is one meant to stay positive?

So here I am once again in a confused state of desperation for a substance that has ruined everything i have and everything i once was.