Long story short: when I was 18 I started using meth for a boy.
Of course it was stupid, of course I wish I had never tried to get myself to be good at using that stuff (good as in: blowing a fatter cloud than the last) yes. I know, I’m so extremely aware of how much more retarded I was. No need to re-in force it in your opinions.
Luckily I was able to move on from the boy but unfortunately I’d never truly allowed myself to really let go of using meth. Obviously: I was addicted. I went through a long phase of hating myself for it. Eventually I realized that hating myself doesn’t make using any easier but I also knew that quitting cold turkey would be damn near impossible for me since my parents think I stopped using this shit years ago. So what have I done? Well, yea, To this day I haven’t stopped. I’ve learned to be more compassionate towards myself and I’ve finally gotten past saying bad or mean things to myself in my head bc of this addiction.
I do want to stop but the want and desire has never been enough to stick w/ it. I know: the right thing to do is tell your parents and check yourself in to rehab. I don’t trust myself to do this because I know I will fake that entire process by going through w/ it, get sober (bc it’s what I should be consistently living as) and then going back to using once all is past and everyone thinks I got the help I needed. I know that I don’t “really” know exactly how I’ll feel @ that point if it were an actual reality, I may end up feeling like it’s not worth it to use again bc of going through that embarrassing transition from coming out about the addiction to the point of the fantasized sober reality. I know that any resistance to getting any better is my addiction speaking, it’s my habit telling me to follow through w/ the routine it was use to isolating in. This is a vice I feel like I WILL take to the grave and that’s a shitty thing to think about. I want help but I’m too scared of trying.
Of course it was stupid, of course I wish I had never tried to get myself to be good at using that stuff (good as in: blowing a fatter cloud than the last) yes. I know, I’m so extremely aware of how much more retarded I was. No need to re-in force it in your opinions.
Luckily I was able to move on from the boy but unfortunately I’d never truly allowed myself to really let go of using meth. Obviously: I was addicted. I went through a long phase of hating myself for it. Eventually I realized that hating myself doesn’t make using any easier but I also knew that quitting cold turkey would be damn near impossible for me since my parents think I stopped using this shit years ago. So what have I done? Well, yea, To this day I haven’t stopped. I’ve learned to be more compassionate towards myself and I’ve finally gotten past saying bad or mean things to myself in my head bc of this addiction.
I do want to stop but the want and desire has never been enough to stick w/ it. I know: the right thing to do is tell your parents and check yourself in to rehab. I don’t trust myself to do this because I know I will fake that entire process by going through w/ it, get sober (bc it’s what I should be consistently living as) and then going back to using once all is past and everyone thinks I got the help I needed. I know that I don’t “really” know exactly how I’ll feel @ that point if it were an actual reality, I may end up feeling like it’s not worth it to use again bc of going through that embarrassing transition from coming out about the addiction to the point of the fantasized sober reality. I know that any resistance to getting any better is my addiction speaking, it’s my habit telling me to follow through w/ the routine it was use to isolating in. This is a vice I feel like I WILL take to the grave and that’s a shitty thing to think about. I want help but I’m too scared of trying.
