And this is my road to recovery
I shouldn’t be writing this because I know I have homework to do but here goes nothing -
These past two years have been the most emotional, crazy, roller coaster. I can’t say I felt happiness at all. Even on days where I felt I made progress, in the back of my mind, I know that I was always taking ten steps backwards. It’s so hilarious that I could lie so much to the point that I believed everything I was saying. It’s so hilarious that I came up with new ways to make my addiction not look like a problem. My old therapist was right “you’re only pretending to recovery so that one day you can relapse and hide it again”. It’s like she took the thoughts right out of my head. And I know that I should have been completely honest with everybody at that point in time but I wasn’t. Which I guess was another reason why relapse was so easy. I spent the next year and a half struggling between sobriety and alcoholism. I convinced myself that I was sober because I wasn’t drinking but I was still smoking weed and taking ecstasy and every once and awhile I would do cocaine. During this past year and a half, I got extremely sick with no cure. I caught an STD from a man with bad intentions. I distanced myself from friends who mattered for friends who just wanted to party. I stumbled into my house numerous of times under the influence. I avoided my mom for weeks on end. I went to work hungover or high on painkillers. I lied to myself over and over again that I was just fine. And I found a man that I truly cared about who I now have to lose.
Life is a beautiful struggle.
But that’s not even the worst part of it all. The worst part of it all is the fact that I was raped last week by a friend. Someone I trusted. Yes, you guys, this is the third time I have been raped. Ridiculous, isn’t it? You’d think a bitch would learn but no, I didn’t learn. The most twisted part is that the man I just mentioned above.. it was his best friend who did it. And now I have to lose this man because this man can’t handle the situation. And it fucking sucks. I realized though at this point, I had only two options, I could continue to run away from my problems and self medicate or I could finally get the help I needed.
And that’s what I did. I finally got the help I needed. It took so time. But a few days later, I went to the police, I filed a report, I spoke with a detective, I decided to get sober for good and I finally, yes finally, accepted God into my heart. I’ve never had this much faith in God as I do right now. And I know He can restore me. Help me. Save me. I’m getting therapy. I didn’t hide this from my mom. I’m following the twelve steps. And it fucking feels good. I know that this is probably one of the hardest things I’m ever going to have to go through but I know that I can do it. And I will do it. Recovery is fucking hard. Dealing with the fact that I have been raped is fucking hard. And there’s nothing else I would love to do right now than get fucking wasted. Numb myself. But I’m not going to do that this time. They say time heals everything, but right now, time just seems to bring more complications. I don’t wake up with a happier tomorrow, I wake up with a rougher reality than yesterday but I know this is all part of recovery. I’m dealing with numerous amounts of different reactions. I’ve probably seen all different types of anger in one week than I ever have in the past twenty years. I’ve seen hurt in my mothers eyes like I’ve never seen before. And I’ve seen people push me away when they don’t know understand something. I’ve watched my friends tear me apart because I’m not leaning on them. And I’ve watched myself change in so many ways that I never thought I would.
And this is only week one.
I can’t even imagine what the next year has in store for me. I still can’t even come to terms with some of the things that I’m losing, going to lose, and have already lost. I still can’t come to terms with the fact that I chose to come forward with something because I’m just so use to running away. I’ve never felt pain so real - I thought I did - but boy I’ve felt pain so raw this past week. But in a way, I’m glad I’m feeling this. I just know that I have so much to still learn. But I’ve never been so excited. I’m also so completely overwhelmed with everything. One second I’m fine, the next second I’m angry, and the third second I am in tears. I’m moody and out of control and not everyone can handle that but for the people that can, I thank you. I really do.
It’s crazy just how fast your life can change. And no one ever asks for this. It just happens. I don’t really know how I am suppose to feel. Something like this happens to you and you just really don’t know what to do. At first, you just watch your whole life come tumbling down. It’s almost like I was just watching relationships fall apart in slow motion. I was and definitely still am in shock. I still feel sick. Typing this in a way is helping me but it’s also like putting the salt in the wound. I’m just hoping that one day I am finally completely healed from all my demons. I’m glad I’m taking sobriety seriously this time. And even though I’m so mad at so many different things, I’m glad that God finally showed himself to me. He said “Melissa„ this is the last straw, you can either listen to me and get your shit together… or you can continue to suffer and live in misery for the rest of your life” and I’m in tears because I’m so happy that God finally showed himself to me. It was under shitty circumstances, yes, but I finally paid attention. And now it’s like I see him everywhere.
Today was hard, and it was raining all day, the perfect setting to a shitty attitude. I came home only to have my mom be going through her “mad phase” and I just couldn’t take it. I went outside to smoke a cigarette and the whole sky was covered in clouds, all but one little space, where the sun was shining through. It was shining right at me too, inbetween houses, seriously. right. at. me. and I knew it was God telling me that everything was going to be okay.
I just had to get this all done. I’m sorry. I’m still such a mess.
But this is my very last post on this blog. This shitty memory, this shitty experience, this shitty fucked up thing that happened to me and destroyed a lot of shit can stay right here. Because this isn’t me any longer. I have some recovering to do and I don’t need this to be a constant reminder.
Let go and Let God.
Probably going to start a new - sober - blog because this one is another reminder of how many times I have failed. I started this blog when I was 18 and wanted to fake sobriety. Or maybe I was looking for help because I literally had no one. I am now 20 and sure of sobriety. This time everybody knows. God, my friends, family, my boss, etc. I’ve decided to follow the 12 steps. I became active in a church. I accepted God into my heart. I pray. I now know how important God is to my recovery. My only regret is not doing this sooner. I’m changing my number. I’m changing my friends. I know I can do this. This blog shows more of my failures than my success. I’m starting fresh.
The reason I failed at sobriety these past two years was because I never put my faith in God. Never turned to God. Never even believed in God. I finally accepting God into my heart on this past Tuesday and I have seriously never been so happy in my life. Or hopeful.
On a side note I am craving McDonald’s chicken nuggets to dip in sweet and sour sauce and some fries and a coke and none of my friends are answering their phone. I’ve also been cleaning, taking quizzes, and writing essays all day and all I want is a McDonald’s break. The struggle is real.
My days had suddenly seemed to become much darker. My attitude had changed. I didn’t see the sunshine any longer. I felt completely numb. I’ve been wondering why I’ve been feeling this way when everything in my life has been going so great, and then it hit me, and it hit me like a shit ton of bricks, I have been raped. Again. For the second time. By someone I had trusted. By someone who was my friend. By someone who I never thought would do that. By someone I’ll never be able to look at again.
Now I didn’t walk away from this situation thinking I was raped. I thought “well it could have been worse”. I thought “no, this is my friend”. I knew it the back on my mind that this wasn’t right. That this was rape. But I chose to forget it. Shrug it off.
I felt myself disassociate in the middle of it. I was trying to escape whatever was going on. This wasn’t my life. Not again. Not again. Why me? I didn’t lead him on. I never saw him as someone to love, someone to sleep with, someone who could potentially be my boyfriend. I didn’t flirt with him. I didn’t send him nude pictures. And the Lord knows, I never felt threatened by him. So why did spending alone time with this guy lead to such a traumatic event?
But it finally got to me. I let it sink in. I had a friend point it out to me. That, yes, it was rape. No matter what I tried to say to twist it around. It was rape. It was real. And it happened. And now it’s like it all makes sense. The sleepless nights. The nightmares I’ve been having. The sudden want to be alone. The anger I keep releasing on all my friends. The motivation I have lost. The sudden depression sweeping over me.
And in all honestly, I can’t deal with this.
I just can’t.
I would do anything to be able to erase the memories of you. I just hate that I miss you so much. And though it’s gotten a little easier to think about you. I still have to hold back tears from time to time. I should have so much hatred towards you because of the things you’ve put me through but I don’t. And I hate myself for that. I still crave your touch, your kiss, your sex, your scent… you. I crave you. I don’t want to but I do. I’m not searching for anyone to replace you. I’m just learning to be content with being alone.
But my god, will I ever get over you? Time heals everything, right?
I love sex