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Where do we go now

March 24, 2018

Eduardo Glen Mora

When I finally surrendered and found the strength to ask for help, I was so exhausted, an addict’s life is hard; you spend your time fabricating lies and stories to justify all kind of shit,  broken promises, missing meetings, unfinished projects. I had multiple changes of clothes, hair gel, deodorant, toothbrush, and cologne in the trunk of the car and the shelves at the office because I never knew where I was going to crash. I bought a clipper and started to shave my head cause going to the barber was dangerous, seating in the chair still would make me fall asleep, and my head will drop suddenly. By now I would be awake most of the day, alcohol and cocaine were keeping me going, but I couldn’t stop moving, if I do, I would inevitably fall and probably will sleep for three days straight, and that would mean losing the high. Does that sound insane? Not for me, it was normal; I had lost my freedom, I was a prisoner of my addictions. I couldn’t stop. The only way it was going to happen was when my heart couldn’t take it anymore.
I felt it many times, my nose would tell me when my breathing was turning weird, it will force me to inhale deeper, pause my drink, stretch my legs and feel my lungs heavy and my heart was beating like a fast car. It was going to happen; I need to calm down some way so that I would stop, I take the ice out of my drink and put the glass in the fridge (of course I am not wasting it, it will just take 30 min, and I can go back to business). My heartbeat starts to calm down; I am not scared anymore; I believe it is working. Surprise! It is not; it is now going too slow, I am breathing slowly and don’t feel enough air coming into my lungs. My heart goes down; it beats real slow. Shit, now my drink is losing its carbonation.  I have to pour a new one! Better waste one drink than having to host a funeral from inside the box. Yes, by reading this it now sounds pretty twisted. Is it so wrong? It was a just standard procedure. I made it; I am back. I wipe the cold sweat from my forehead.
How insane is to put myself on the line like that, I know I am going to die, Not maybe, not tomorrow, it will happen, and it will just take two more hours. One minute I am scared fighting for my life and the next I am sitting back with a smile on my face proud because I saved it. That easy, I keep going. How stupid I am.
I quit going out, and I don’t want to be in public when I stop being polite and that happens every day earlier. I am out of control. I wake up in the morning and run out from my apartment trying to hold still the trash bag to muffle the cling of the bottles, and there is nothing inside to keep them from it. I don’t eat anymore. I arrive at the restaurant and check the shopping list, today I am going to do it, I won’t drink until the shopping is complete and I at least start the production. Right. I feel like shit, just one more beer, it will calm me down.  I’ll have a dark one this time; they are much more substantial. I won’t even need breakfast this will do. It does, it works, but before I am done with that first one I am pulling another out of the fridge, and it keeps going. Half an hour later I am climbing on my scooter to go shopping with eight beers down my belly. I need to keep the cool and drive carefully. I don’t want a stupid cop to stop me and screw my day. Nothing happens, I am back and ready for more.
Apparently, my fucked up time started showing earlier every day. From 1 or 3 am, down to 11.00pm, 10.00pm, and even 8.00pm if I decide to switch to hard liquor before time. I don’t have a regular schedule anymore; I fall asleep for an hour or two randomly, I try now to be at home most of the time cause I don’t know when this is going to happen and I can’t afford to have an accident. People will notice, they will know I have a problem (like nobody knows).  EVERYBODY KNOWS!
So once we start working in our recovery, we are just so tired, confused, I had lost the ability to work, to focus, to make decisions, to socialize, to speak about healthy stuff, to smile. I didn’t know how to be sympathetic; I had lost all ability to have feelings and emotions, to trust people. I was scared; I felt sick, weak. Somebody told me later that addiction is like a blanket that keeps us from seeing reality and life. The world changes, people grow up, and we stayed where we were when we fell into the spiral of it. We take the cover off our eyes, and we don’t recognize where we are standing,
It is a long road, it is not always easy, and we will have to clean up the debris, built our world from all the destruction but IT CAN BE FIXED, and IT IS WORTH IT.
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