I received so many kind comments, emails and messages after my last blog, Standing on the Moon. I wasn't even sure that I should post it, but I am glad I did. In fact, the day I finished that blog, I basically left myself two choices: Post it or use. I used. I knew this was the wrong choice, but I basically put myself on autopilot. I got tunnel vision. All I wanted to do was use.
After using, I felt awful. I knew I would. Eventually, I came to the library and wrote a message to God, begging for help. It was kind of a written prayer. I thought about posting it in this blog, but perhaps I should keep it between me and God.
As the days past, I started to think that maybe I wasn't wrong to post the blog. I know I was wrong to use. I'm pretty sure I believe that posting the blog was the right thing to do. I never want to hurt Susan or her family any more than I already have. I asked her to read that one over, just to make sure it wasn't something she didn't approve of - since I am putting a lot out there. Susan has somehow maintained a pretty normal life throughout my insanity and I don't want to interfere with that now that she trying to move on.
After using last time I prayed so much for guidance. I also went to a lot of recovery meetings. It seems to have helped. I only have five days clean, but I feel better about the future than I have in a very, very long time. Also , I have only used 3 times this entire month. That says a lot for me. Not using at all is truly my only option. I just want to be clear that I am not trying to fool myself on that one.
Just staying connected with people seems to really help. First at the shelter. I have made some friends there. Actually, before that, I did make a few good and helpful friends on the street. Then I started going to recovery meetings and talking to counselors at the shelter. Then, I decided to write the blog. After my one mistake of using, my choice to post it seems to have been the right one. Thank you all.
One of my friends told me I always had a way of bringing people together. This friend lives in Cincinnati. He couldn't be more right about the person he knew in Cincinnati. That person was an addict who still had a social life. That's what it was about. After being in San Francisco a couple of years, I became a very isolated person. That's basically the path an addict takes. Most people in Cincinnati knew the person who liked to have fun all the time. In addiction, it starts out being fun. Then, it's fun with problems. Then, problems with fun. Then, it's just problems. Only Susan really got to see me go through the entire cycle. The people of Cincinnati mostly saw fun Dave. The people of San Francisco mostly saw problem Dave. Sorry San Francisco and thank you. This of course goes to Susan and a few of my friends and family that really tried to stick with me as well - especially Susan.
In Cincinnati, Susan was getting a little frustrated with having to entertain EVERY NIGHT. After being in San Francisco for a while, NO ONE ever came over. Susan never knew what I would be up to so she was afraid to invite anyone over. I was basically one extreme or the other. The times that I was clean, did seem to create that happy medium. Perhaps it was just a little closer to normal. Normal is something I have never been. Still, when I was clean, we were happy.
Once I realized it was no longer going to be WE, I couldn't even imagine any form of happiness. It's still hard for me to really feel happy. I do feel sad and angry with myself. I think these feelings are normal. The important thing is that I am feeling them. For so long I ran from them or covered them up by using. By doing this, I either didn't feel at all or I felt mad, sad and depressed when I was coming down. Injecting meth instantly depletes me of all the happy chemicals in my brain. This is great when it happens. However, coming down is another story. If I don't have enough reason to be depressed already because of my actions and situation, now I am chemically imbalanced and incredibly depressed. It can become a vicious cycle.
People always try to tell me I'm a good person. I don't believe this when I have been using. However, I really do try to be when I am not using. I can only be a good person if I am not using. I guess I am a friendly person who cares about people. I am not as good at being a caring person as most people - especially Susan. I get anxious when someone needs to be cared for. I'm not sure what that is about. Or, if someone looks to me for help, I get nervous. I guess I fear I may not be able to be there for them or help them. I guess I have become insecure. I hope this changes in time. It seems it has in the past. I know that growing up, my mother was in the hospital a lot. I never liked it when she was in the hospital. I also found her dying when I was 12. For years, I secretly blamed myself for her death. I'm sure this has something to do with it. When my dad was struggling with his issues a few years back, it was hard for me to see him like that. When things really got hard between us, I quit talking to him. I also chose to use to deal with the pain. I knew one of was going to die. It ended up being him. I had a lot of guilt about this.
I want to be someone who is there for others. Susan was by my side in the ICU almost 24 hours a day for a week. That is just the kind of person she is. I have a lot of guilt about losing her after all she has done for me. I hope to work through this. I can't continue to use over it. I will say that staying clean recently with the knowledge that our marriage is over, does seem to be letting me process those feelings. I guess it is a mourning process. For so long, I did everything I could not to feel those feelings - especially around the holidays. Those months were probably the most miserable I have ever been. I was so sad, so sick and so alone. It was always because of the choices I was making. I also realize that Susan has had a lot of those feelings over the years without a way to escape. She's a tough woman but she shouldn't have to be.
I really want the best for her. I know she wants the best for me. She tried so hard to help me. I took advantage of it sometimes. It didn't feel intentional to me all the time. Ultimately, however, it was always my doing.
After using the other day, I was walking down the street and I saw a memorial on the sidewalk to someone who had died. These are common in "the ghetto". Where I saw this memorial was in The Tenderloin. The Tenderloin is one of the toughest neighborhoods in San Francisco. Mainly, it is drug infested. It is an old neighborhood that has apparently always been a troubled neighborhood for San Francisco. I have heard that it was named the Tenderloin years ago because the cops who worked that neighborhood always ate the tender loin - meaning of course they were paid more. Whatever the case, there is a also a lot of love and caring in that neighborhood. These sidewalk memorials usually consist of flowers, photos, private messages and glass candles with photos of Jesus or other religious symbols on them. Susan and I used to call them "drive-by candles", since some of these memorials are the result of drive-by shootings. I think most in The Tenderloin are the result of drug overdoses. However, some are the result of violence.
It was then that I realized that I had to keep writing. I also realized I need to put myself in a position that I can carry my camera with me again. I started writing this blog a long time ago - before Facebook. I had a lot fewer readers back then. I basically wanted my friends and family to know the truth about me. I also wanted the information to come "from the horses mouth" as I put it back then. Right or wrong for doing so, I now feel I have a responsibility to continue this blog. I always wanted a fairytale ending. Not all fairy tales have happy endings I guess. It may not have the happy ending I hoped it would, but I still want it to be something positive.
Writing was always supposed to help others and inform others of just how amazing this universe really is. It seems I may have first discovered evil. This assured me there was a God. This may be the wrong way to know such a thing and I may be wrong to "preach" to people about this, but it's just the way it happened. Perhaps it was always about God trying to help me find my way. I hope so. A few years ago, after using one time, the voices in my head instructed me to stare into the sun. I did for a while until I couldn't take it any more. I would later read in the bible that false prophets would be blinded. The Koran says anyone that writes scripture with his own hand is sure to go to hell - or something like that. I want to be clear, that is not my intentions. I am no prophet! I just was having too many strange coincidences occur in my life to deny them. I thought I had to share them with others. I'm sorry to all those I have hurt. I hope that people learn from my mistakes - especially young people. I try to pray for guidance before writing each blog.
When I saw the sidewalk memorial, I really thought I needed to continue writing about the things that were happening to me out here. The large and main message above the candle read,
RIP Crystal
See you when I get there
Love,
Angel
Angel
Below the message was a "drive-by candle", some wilted orange sunflowers, some photos and some other messages. The main message was obviously from one person who cared about another person, but to me it said more. To me it said I needed to put my crystal meth habit behind me. I really wanted my camera at that moment and I really wanted to share this with everyone. I started to believe that maybe I should post my blog again.
Moments later, I ran into a person who used to be my neighbor. I explained my dilemma. He suggested I write and go back to it days later to decide what to do. More so, to read what I had written for myself. Susan also suggested I simply write a journal. I would end up going to the library and writing my letter to God. A couple of days later, as I stated earlier, I had Susan read this blog. She approved. I think it is important that I listen to others suggestions.
In the near future I intend to go out with a friend and take some photos of this beautiful city. I know it is going to be hard, but I think I have to do it. I have to move on. I have to continue to write. I have to stay clean. I have to live.
