Someone (who shall not be named on this here blog, but knows damn well who they is) inquired as to whether I think I'm still "at risk" of returning to my party boy ways when ish gets tough. It's a valid question, I suppose. For years, all of that stuff was my crutch and I didn't think twice about running back to it, even as recently as 2013. I can see why some people still wonder or worry if I may head back to the ledge someday. Addiction runs in my family, and in a very nasty way, so I consider myself damn lucky for not ending up with an addiction of my own. I never had a compulsion to use, I did it because I was bored or I was hurt or I needed to escape from something. I picked it up and put it down at will, but almost without fail, I always turned to it when shit got rough. I don't do that anymore, and I haven't since 2013. And I don't really worry that I will do it again. Part of the reason for it was that I didn't like who I was so when left in my own company, I sought to escape it any way I could. I like me now (there, I said it) and I've found better outlets for things that trouble me; writing, meditation, hell, even doing the dishes zens me out nowadays. All of that may sound boring to some, but for somebody who's spent roughly 13 years of their life struggling with various things, it's awesome. I don't dare say I feel like a grown up yet (is it bad that I don't feel like a grown up, even though I'm responsible for another life?), but I do feel like substantial progress has finally been made and I'm gonna bask in the glow of that ish.
The question of whether or not I'd ever use again got me to thinking about times my substance abuse got in the way of my personal life. And two of those times stick out like sore thumbs. The first was with someone we'll call Ex A, whom I didn't treat very well. Our time together coincided with me being at my worst substance-wise and, no matter how hard I tried to shake the demons, they just kept creeping up. In the beginning, it wasn't so bad as I was really into her and we spent a lot of time together. That high took the place of the other ones. Until it didn't. Once I came back down to earth, I went right back to that old, familiar foe. It was like living a double life; I was sober-ish and as present as possible when I was with her, but when we were apart I was using whatever sounded good at the moment. She knew of the problem but assumed it was in the past and she was all about clean living. When she began to suspect something was amiss, I lied about it and she legit believed me. When it became obvious that I'd lied and that I was still using, I lied some more and she chose to believe me because she wanted us to work. I did too, on some level, so I would behave for small stretches, just until I felt things were settling back in. And then I'd go use again. She put up with it for awhile, never issuing ultimatums of any kind but making it clear she wasn't a fan of my other life. I ignored most of it and charged ahead. Eventually, it was all too much and she ended it. Ex A had fallen for me and all I'd done was mess things up. It would take awhile but I'd feel terrible about the whole thing once I finally did hang up my old ways.
Ex B and I were a different story from Ex A in that we were both totally enamored with each other. It's not in my nature to do something halfway or to love and support people halfway. For better or worse, I love hard and that love continues unless you give me a damn good reason to cease and desist. Ex B and I never knew how to quit one another, despite our many starts and stops during our relationship. Ex A was a sweetheart, and so was Ex B, but B was also a badass who knew what she would and would not tolerate. Having had her own issues with the bottle in the past, she'd long since pulled herself out of it and into a better existence. She still liked to go out and could drink anyone under the table when she did, but it was no longer a crutch for her. We bonded over our shared history of using substances as a band aid and our relationship thrived because of it. There was an understanding of where we'd both been and that neither of us wanted to return to that place. Ex B and I started dating shortly after I'd decided to get my life on track, so I went into the relationship with a totally clear head. And for a long time, I didn't even need to use anything else because the high she gave me was ri-di-cu-lous. I would've done absolutely anything for her and followed he anywhere, and that is not an exaggeration. I was head over heels ten times over. Sure, she could never make up her mind about sticking around long term, but none of that sent me running for the bottle (pill, booze or otherwise). I would've waited forever to end up with her and I knew the break ups had more to do with her not being ready for us than with her not loving me. After a few stops and starts, we hit a really good stretch where everything seemed to be falling into place - and then I hit a rough patch. My drug use had never been an issue, or even a thought since we'd discussed it when we first began. But some stuff went down in my life and I acquired some of my crutch, though I hadn't taken it yet. I was torn. I wanted to take it and escape and we were apart anyway because I was traveling for work. I could've gone on a bender and she'd have been none the wiser. But I just couldn't do it. Because I'm an idiot, I'd used a mutual friend to get what I needed and he mentioned it in passing to Ex B. The friend had no idea I'd had issues in the past so he didn't think twice about helping me get what I needed, nor about mentioning it to the girlfriend. After their exchange, she asked if there was anything I needed to tell her. I said no, but I had a feeling she somehow knew what was going on. I came clean and she let it be known she was gone if I chose the drugs over her. And just like that, out the pills and my desire to use them went. I never even considered it again during our time together. That was the only time we had the drug issue and it was a thousand times less serious than it would've been had I'd actually used them.
It's an interesting contrast, how Ex A and Ex B handled the situation of me and my crutch and how I reacted to their handling of the situation. Yes, I was in love with Ex B so it makes sense that when she put her foot down, the fight in me kicked up something fierce and I didn't think twice about throwing the pills out. But I wonder if Ex A and I would've gotten through things had she been the type to issue an ultimatum. I loathe ultimatums, or being told what to do, but I fell right in line when the threat of losing Ex B became real. Ex A said, "I'd prefer you not use", whereas Ex B said, "If you use, I'm gone". Maybe their past experiences had something to do with it too. Ex A is in my same industry so she'd been exposed to drug use, but never partaken in it, while Ex B had been one drink shy of an intervention back in the day. Both of them taught me valuable lessons about myself and about my substance abuse and I'm thankful to both of them for that. There were several monkeys I needed to get off my back for years and I can't even imagine going back to who I used to be.
