Nerd In Transition: I Effed Up
I have been trying very hard to change my life. To accomplish the depth of transformation I seek it means I have to change myself including, but not limited to, my behaviors, habits, thoughts, friends, and even appearance. That’s huge. Think about that, if you really set about reinventing and refocusing your entire life. Mull it over for a bit, scary isn’t it? So maybe you’ll understand why I fucked up.
As you know one of my biggest battles over the last few months has been my addiction to marijuana. I joined MA for a bit, quit smoking then started then quit then started many times until I finally stopped, went through a lengthy and privately difficult withdrawal period, got in trouble for being so open about the addiction and was almost kicked out of the Dolls and I just about lost my mind. For awhile I turned myself into a bit of a hermit, feeling success may be more probable if I stayed away from any temptation. After some time things got easier and my daily existence turned from being about NOT doing a something and into finding constructive somethings to do. It was almost smooth sailing.
There were times when I was confronted with temptation and turned it down. One day in particular I found myself sitting in front of a bong and a box of weed while waiting on a friend to finish showering. The room was empty and I have the blessing of the owner of the box full of weed to help myself. Tempted my heart started racing and I began to sweat. Instead of sitting and staring at it until I couldn’t help myself I got up and moved both items out of sight, returned to my seat and focused on the television. Alright, I thought, I’m over this.
But I’m not, I’m not over it. Somewhere back in the summer I began to indulge in the occasional puff. Small amounts of green that I never bought. The first couple times I felt very little guilt, until the next day when I woke up stupid and angry. Yet I went on to inhale a few more times. But always outside of my house at some type of event. I justified that if I didn’t go seeking it or that if I didn’t purchase any I was still fine. And I was. Then two weeks ago something went wrong. It was like something inside of me snapped, I didn’t want to fight it anymore. I wanted to give in to the urge by bringing home a sack of sweet green and getting completely stoned. So I did.
Taking the dogs out for their evening walk I headed first to the bank, cause dealers don’t accept credit, then on the way home I turned right up a street near mine and walked up to my old dealers house. The whole way up the hill I fought off the very mantra that had saved me so many times, “What life do you want? That foggy old one or the bright new one?” Shoving that little Jimminy Cricket voice aside I walked up and into the house, just my luck, my dealer was home.
“Hey! Where have you been?” he asked surprised
“Had to quit smoking for awhile. You know, just kind of lay low.” I replied of so casually.
“Yeah that happens.”
“Well I’m back.”
“They always come back.” He chuckled and smiled a deliberately evil grin.
I giggled a bit, torn between amusement and disgust. Of all the things he could have said, why hit the nail right on the head? Some small talk and 60 bucks later I walked out already high and looking forward to losing the night.
What ended up happening is that I lost a little over a week. I managed that by smoking through the whole weekend, completely destroying the bag. Monday morning I started working out at a fitness center and made sure to go in straight. I left the last half joint at home telling myself that was it, the end, when I got back. I finally got back home around one, dripping in sweat after having pushed my bike up a mountain on the hottest day ever recorded in LA history. All I wanted was to sit in my bedroom with the AC cranked, as I worked away on my computer and smoked that final joint. Funny thing is that when I walked in the front door I found the ashtray empty and my six month old puppy walking funny. McQueen ate the last of my weed! A few hours later I had a new bag in my possession. This one lasted a week. Since it ran out I have had no desire to go get more, which I find odd, yet strangely comforting.
I can’t give you a specific reason as to why I cracked. All I can say is that tension had been building for some time and when it finally came to a head I needed relief beyond a chocolate bar and hamburger. If I had another outlet I would have used it, but I didn’t, so I went with an old favorite. It did help to some degree, but I did and am paying a price. I got very little work done last week leaving me to play catch up this week all because when smoking I find concentrating on my computer to be difficult. I am out of $120, maybe more if you count all the food I ate. And I had to write this blog, which means I’m going to field some unhappy phones calls, the worst of which should be my mom.
How do I feel now? How did I feel while smoking? Relieved and disappointed. What now? I keep going in the new direction and take this for what it is, a bump in the road. As long as I carry on in the right direction things should continue to improve. I’m not going to be weighted down with guilt. I recognize that it was an unproductive, destructive reaction to a difficult period but that things are too good for me to fall apart now. I am sorry it happened. But I can’t take it back or say that it won’t happen again. I can just say sorry.
featured image credit: merwing?little dear