traveller wrote:
Invariably, I would relapse.   

I mean, it just happened over and over again.   Sometimes, I felt like I wanted to.  Other times, it was as if I were a passenger in my own body, watching and knowing what would happen even though I couldn't summon a single reason why I would want to do this.

When I finally quit for good (touch wood), when I had gotten past day 30 and day 60...   I found myself in a strange and lonely place.

A place that I daresay is like a desert of the soul for the addict.  A place where it would be very easy to turn back.

I felt lonely.   

Not just any lonely.   But this deep and profound loneliness.   

I was detached even from myself.

Not only had I lost most of who I actually was to drugs, but I had completely lost contact with who I was "in my own head" before.   

So not only did I have very few connections to our real world, but I also had no real connection to what I would want.  Or what wanting even meant.

It was like some strange twilight that I couldn't get out of, nor pull anyone into.

LOOKING BACK

I think I was in mourning.    Here's what I mean.

When I was using Meth, gradually Meth began to fill every role in my life.  (substitute "when I was with my addict")

It was the thing that made me feel good (taking the place of friends, work, family, hobbies).

It was the thing that made me feel bad (see list above)

It was the thing I chased, and it was the thing I ran from

And I don't mean in some frenzied, wild-eyed way.   It was so much more than that.

I literally mean it took the place in my mind and in my body where my friends and family and work and love used to reside.

Because, if you think about it, those places are always filled by what is presently in your life.

That's how we survive and move on.   New hobbies replace old, new loves replace lost ones.  We never forget family or friends, but the ones who actually provide us with daily interaction are the ones that contribute to our sense of who we are.

SO YOU SEE

I'm not being clever when I say that Meth had actually become my friends and family.   My work and my play.

And what happened to me when I got sober was I went through a really powerful period of LOSS.

There was a void in all the places Meth had been.

And forget for a moment the fact that Meth was horrible.   That doesn't change the fact that it was my one and only friend.   My lone career.   My lover.

Getting clean meant leaving them ALL - at once.

And so I can say it was one of the saddest and scariest times I've ever had.

I wish I had understood this at the time, that what I was feeling was natural and understandable.

I wish I had known that even though it was the Devil I was missing, that didn't mean it was shameful to feel sad.  

I wasn't crying for Meth.  I was crying because I was empty.

I know every experience of life is different.   But when I think of our new friends on here, or people reading who will never post...

I hope they won't feel as ashamed of feeling sad as I did.

I hope they will realize that the holes left by Meth can and will be filled by people, passions, and life IF we are patient and let it happen.

Faster still if we force ourselves to go out and seek, even when we are stuck on the couch and terrified.

We don't stay alone forever.   

And yes, this right now may very well be as empty as you will ever feel.

But you really can use that as a chance to start over.   And you actually do get the chance to be more mindful of what you fill your life with than many 'normal' people who might not lose so much so fast.
I was going to highlight a particular sentence in Traveller's post, but then realized I could highlight the entire post..........as it all "fits".  

After 20 months (and years prior to that if the truth be known).......I realize that nearly everything posted above applies to me as "the loved one".  It applies to me, the other person in the dysfunctional relationship......it applies to me, the addict in the dance of the toxic relationship.  He did the drugs, I did him (was married to him, have a child with him).  He was my drug of choice, the substance addict (throw in a few dysfunctional behaviors of my own while acting out during the craziness of our relationship at the sheer madness of it all, but never knowing why).  

What in Traveller's writing hit home as a "loved one"?  Everything.   Relapse, out of body reactions/a 'viewing' of myself but feeling like I don't even know myself anymore, loneliness, detachment, struggling to remember who I was and finding who I might be now, profound mourning that is indescribable, accepting that despite what I thought, new, said and professed to want my relationship with him seemed to mean more to me than anything (may take my whole life to figure out all the 'whys' about that), knowing that "it" (our relationship) took a piece of my mind and heart that common sense/instinct and love used to reside, loss beyond description, emptiness. 

In addition to "quitting the addiction" (to stop interacting with the drug, in my case with the individual who did the drug)......we (loved ones) often have to go through all of the above.  I was sick, both heartsick, mind sick/depressed, and physically ill.......still am at times.  Sleep became disturbed like never before, panic attacks ensued, it became a major feat just to simply make it through any given day.  Attempting to work (to earn a wage to pay a bill to live and support my son) became nearly impossible.......wanting so badly to seclude, isolate, crawl up with a blanket, keep the lights off and nap all the problems away.  I didn't want to explain to one more person "what was going on", I didn't trust many, and didn't want to see many I did trust.......I simply didn't have the energy.   I found myself absolutely amazed at the true character and lack of character that rose to the surface with those that I thought I knew so well and those that I didn't know at all.  I felt that many knew I was weakened and took advantage of it, and many cast judgements which felt horrible, and left me angry, confused, disheartened and heartbroken with an extreme sense of abandonment.   I wanted something to make me feel better.........but nothing would or could........not until recently, even though I was trying many things that helped.  Finally, there is a point where "rock bottom" is seen and felt.  Are these feelings the same as the addicts' feelings when they stop using??  I think that they might be very similar.  

That is one reason KCI is such a blessing for so many of us.  We learn that we are all in this together.  We are all in a position of needing and wanting to change our lives for the better, or we would not have found KCI, nor would we continue to come back, to bare our struggles and progress, to share our humanness both weak and strong, to help, to learn.  I've learned that I was very wrong to want to "help" my husband with his addiction issues..........I needed to help myself with my own issues.  Had I done that years ago, the relationship would have self-resolved one way or another, without giving up everything materially and personally and perhaps without being sick for so long.  

If you are here, I believe you already know the possible extent of your problem(s).  My advice for today:  Don't wait.  If you feel you must wait, wait for only 24 hours.  If, in 24 hours, there is still that nagging question or indecision, take action.  Start focusing only on you and what it best for you in your life.  Because if you do that, the rest of the stuff will fall into the right places for you to deal with later.  You can't save anyone if you don't put on your own oxygen mask first (FAA regulation with solid medical reason......you lose oxygen and can't think in a very short time of oxygen deprivation......must save self first) 


Last Edited By: Gypsygirl Jan 18 12 8:32 PM. Edited 1 times.