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I feel like the biggest piece of shit in the world. I do nothing but cause problems for all of the people that care about me.
I'm not doing as well as I thought I would be doing if I went back home. I can't stop. I've cut down quite a bit, but I can't stop yet...and that sucks, because stopping is only the first step. It's hard, but it's definitely not more difficult than everything that follows. Adapting to and accepting life without drugs and alcohol is the hardest part. It's changing everything you know. It forces you to deal with your life and your emotions. I have NEVER been good at that, and getting fucked up has always been my means of "dealing". I deal with things by not dealing with them. I do whatever I can to escape from reality and suppress my emotions. I can't seem to internalize the fact that if I want to get better, I have to learn how to face life head on and deal with what it gives me. I need to learn how to live sober, because I don't know how.
I have gone through the rehabilitation process so many times, I could write a book on it. Obviously I wouldn't have any advice as to how to make the rehab process successful, but as for going through it...been there done that a million times.
You always hear that in order to get better, you have to do it for yourself, but you know what? I have absolutely no desire to do it for myself. I only care about getting better because the people that love me want me to, and I don't want to hurt them anymore. If I didn't have them, I would have absolutely no desire to quit. I would keep using until I died, because I really wouldn't care. Sometimes I think it would be better if I did die. I know I sound stupid saying that. I know it's not true. I don't even really mean it. I just feel that way sometimes.
I don't even know why I'm using right now. It's a coping mechanism of mine, but it's not like I have much that I need to "cope" with. I have everything I could possibly want...an amazing wife; beautiful, healthy kids. I love Jenny and our kids more than anything in this world. I don't really understand why I'm doing this. I wish I could just stop. I hate it. Every time I open a bottle, I hate it. Every time something goes up my nose, I hate it. Every time I pop pills, whatever kind they may be, I hate it. I hate all of it, and I hate myself for doing it. I hate myself for not being able to control it. And most of all, I hate myself for hurting my family.
My poor mother. I went over to her house today, and when we started talking, she just broke down and cried. She knows that I relapsed months ago. It's not like it was a surprise when I went over there today. But she hates seeing it. And you CAN see it...I have lost about 15 pounds, which is a lot for me, and I have big dark circles under my eyes from not sleeping well (or much at all). Anyway, she cried today, and it made me feel like shit. I hate doing this to her. My mom has gone through so much already. She doesn't need this. She told me that it breaks her heart to see me doing this to myself, and that she can't bear the thought of losing me too (like she lost my brother). She said "I don't want to see both of my twin boys killed by the same unnecessary evil." I don't want to do that to her. I don't want to put her through it again. I can't even imagine how hard it would be to lose a child, and she has already lost one. That must be the most horrible thing in the world. You'd think that would be enough to make me stop. She also told me that she feels like she has failed as a mother. I feel really bad about that, because it isn't her fault. None of it is. My mom did EVERYTHING she possibly could have done, and more. She continues to do everything that she could possibly do. She has been nothing but a wonderful mother, and I hate that she feels at all responsible for anything that has happened. I couldn't ask for a better mom. Aside from genetic disposition, there is no one to put the blame on but my father. My mom is amazing. I have told her this so many times, but I don't think she'll ever really stop blaming herself, even though it's not at all her fault.
My brother is just about at the end of his rope with me. He has always been the one that was there to pick me up when I fell, but I have fallen so many times that he doesn't really have the strength to pick me up anymore. He won't flat out tell me that, but I can feel it. He's my best friend in the whole world, and I'm his...so I know how hard it is for him.
And Jenny...oh God, Jenny. The love of my life. My wife. The mother of my children. Why am I doing this to her? I hate myself so much for it. I love her so much it hurts, so it kills me to know how much pain I'm causing her. I want nothing more than to make her happy and if I could, I would take away all of the pain that she has ever endured in her life...but now I'm the one causing it. I know I keep saying that I hate myself, but I really hate myself for that.
I love my wife and kids so much. I don't want to become my father. I can't. I won't. Like I have said many times before, I would never do some of the things that he did, or be abusive to my family in any way, but my substance abuse is abuse enough.
When I look at my wife, it kills me to see the pain in her eyes, because I'm the one that caused it. I just want to hold her in my arms and tell her that everything will be ok, but I can't, because everything won't be okay until I overcome this once and for all. I know I will always struggle with sobriety once I achieve it (IF I achieve it...it seems impossible sometimes), but I want to get to the point that I will never go back (to using).
I just don't know what to do anymore. I want to stop. Really, I do. For good. But living sober forever scares me, and I don't know how to do it.
I need to learn how to stop all this self-loathing so that I can get better for ME. I need to want to be sober not just for my family, but for myself. I just don't know how to get to that point.
Fuck.
I want a drink, but I'm going to try to resist and go have a cigarette instead.
On a lighter note, my son turned one this month. How crazy is that? I can't believe it has been a whole year already. It has gone by so fast.
I'm not doing as well as I thought I would be doing if I went back home. I can't stop. I've cut down quite a bit, but I can't stop yet...and that sucks, because stopping is only the first step. It's hard, but it's definitely not more difficult than everything that follows. Adapting to and accepting life without drugs and alcohol is the hardest part. It's changing everything you know. It forces you to deal with your life and your emotions. I have NEVER been good at that, and getting fucked up has always been my means of "dealing". I deal with things by not dealing with them. I do whatever I can to escape from reality and suppress my emotions. I can't seem to internalize the fact that if I want to get better, I have to learn how to face life head on and deal with what it gives me. I need to learn how to live sober, because I don't know how.
I have gone through the rehabilitation process so many times, I could write a book on it. Obviously I wouldn't have any advice as to how to make the rehab process successful, but as for going through it...been there done that a million times.
You always hear that in order to get better, you have to do it for yourself, but you know what? I have absolutely no desire to do it for myself. I only care about getting better because the people that love me want me to, and I don't want to hurt them anymore. If I didn't have them, I would have absolutely no desire to quit. I would keep using until I died, because I really wouldn't care. Sometimes I think it would be better if I did die. I know I sound stupid saying that. I know it's not true. I don't even really mean it. I just feel that way sometimes.
I don't even know why I'm using right now. It's a coping mechanism of mine, but it's not like I have much that I need to "cope" with. I have everything I could possibly want...an amazing wife; beautiful, healthy kids. I love Jenny and our kids more than anything in this world. I don't really understand why I'm doing this. I wish I could just stop. I hate it. Every time I open a bottle, I hate it. Every time something goes up my nose, I hate it. Every time I pop pills, whatever kind they may be, I hate it. I hate all of it, and I hate myself for doing it. I hate myself for not being able to control it. And most of all, I hate myself for hurting my family.
My poor mother. I went over to her house today, and when we started talking, she just broke down and cried. She knows that I relapsed months ago. It's not like it was a surprise when I went over there today. But she hates seeing it. And you CAN see it...I have lost about 15 pounds, which is a lot for me, and I have big dark circles under my eyes from not sleeping well (or much at all). Anyway, she cried today, and it made me feel like shit. I hate doing this to her. My mom has gone through so much already. She doesn't need this. She told me that it breaks her heart to see me doing this to myself, and that she can't bear the thought of losing me too (like she lost my brother). She said "I don't want to see both of my twin boys killed by the same unnecessary evil." I don't want to do that to her. I don't want to put her through it again. I can't even imagine how hard it would be to lose a child, and she has already lost one. That must be the most horrible thing in the world. You'd think that would be enough to make me stop. She also told me that she feels like she has failed as a mother. I feel really bad about that, because it isn't her fault. None of it is. My mom did EVERYTHING she possibly could have done, and more. She continues to do everything that she could possibly do. She has been nothing but a wonderful mother, and I hate that she feels at all responsible for anything that has happened. I couldn't ask for a better mom. Aside from genetic disposition, there is no one to put the blame on but my father. My mom is amazing. I have told her this so many times, but I don't think she'll ever really stop blaming herself, even though it's not at all her fault.
My brother is just about at the end of his rope with me. He has always been the one that was there to pick me up when I fell, but I have fallen so many times that he doesn't really have the strength to pick me up anymore. He won't flat out tell me that, but I can feel it. He's my best friend in the whole world, and I'm his...so I know how hard it is for him.
And Jenny...oh God, Jenny. The love of my life. My wife. The mother of my children. Why am I doing this to her? I hate myself so much for it. I love her so much it hurts, so it kills me to know how much pain I'm causing her. I want nothing more than to make her happy and if I could, I would take away all of the pain that she has ever endured in her life...but now I'm the one causing it. I know I keep saying that I hate myself, but I really hate myself for that.
I love my wife and kids so much. I don't want to become my father. I can't. I won't. Like I have said many times before, I would never do some of the things that he did, or be abusive to my family in any way, but my substance abuse is abuse enough.
When I look at my wife, it kills me to see the pain in her eyes, because I'm the one that caused it. I just want to hold her in my arms and tell her that everything will be ok, but I can't, because everything won't be okay until I overcome this once and for all. I know I will always struggle with sobriety once I achieve it (IF I achieve it...it seems impossible sometimes), but I want to get to the point that I will never go back (to using).
I just don't know what to do anymore. I want to stop. Really, I do. For good. But living sober forever scares me, and I don't know how to do it.
I need to learn how to stop all this self-loathing so that I can get better for ME. I need to want to be sober not just for my family, but for myself. I just don't know how to get to that point.
Fuck.
I want a drink, but I'm going to try to resist and go have a cigarette instead.
On a lighter note, my son turned one this month. How crazy is that? I can't believe it has been a whole year already. It has gone by so fast.
