A story of how I found my strength. (intro to the “Getting back at it” experiment.)

in #family3 years ago

I was feeling weak and doubtful last week so I started writing and this is what I came up with.
I'm a recovering addict but this could be a useful read for anyone addict or not.
This is a piece on the strength to push forward and how to access it when you feel it has been lost.

I got sober, got a job, car, home, got full custody of my daughter, was gifted a community of people inspired to progress to support me, got my old friends back who stopped associating with me because of my lifestyle choices. I got an amazing girlfriend that is everything I could imagine plus some. A lot of great things happened but it wasn’t rainbows and butterflies. I went through a lot just getting clean and learning to deal with things sober people dealt with daily on top of a few traumatic events. I needed strength to move forward.

About four months into my sobriety my little brother was shot in the throat and killed.
About 7-8 months prior to that he came down to West Virginia to get away from the drug life and get his life in order. We just partied and drank. When he finally got evicted out of the place he was renting he decided to go back to Columbus and figure stuff out like he used to (not the good way). I tried to get him to stay but he told me straight up (he always spoke his honest opinion), “ You don’t have anywhere for me to stay. Where will I go? What do you want me to do, sleep with you on Sherrie's couch?”. I felt worthless not being able to help my little brother, I loved him more than I could express in just words. He was my best friend growing up, my sidekick, and we went through so much together. He was the only one who knew everything I went through as a kid And went through most of it with me.
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He visited once in my early recovery and we talked about how when I got my own place he would bring his daughter and come live with me so he could learn a trade and get his life in order. Then we would buy a piece of property and both put trailers on it until we saved to build houses. This was a dream we had and frequently talked about since childhood.

Before he got hit with a felony gun charge he was 18 working in sales for Apple making about 1700 dollars every two weeks. He was so full of potential and I just wanted to give him a little breathing room so he could do what I and everyone around him knew he would do. Succeed.

But I got my home about 3 months too late. I was getting ready to go to my scheduled community service and I got a call. His father gave me the news. It was like when a bomb explodes in a movie. Everything got quiet and slow. Nothing mattered but the thought Of him dying. Nothing was real but that thought. My mom was there to give me a ride and opened my door to see what was taking me so long. I quickly told her the news shut my door, locked it, and fell apart. My older brother Overdosed and I felt the pain of his death, but not like this, I was sober, unable to numb, and this was my little brother, my sidekick. I was supposed to protect him, he was my little brother. I hated myself. I hated everything.
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My initial thought was of course I want to drink a whole bottle of vodka, but quickly after that, It was like he spoke to me through my thoughts. He hated how much of an addict I was. “Why can’t you just stop, your strong,” He would say. I knew using anything was not an option because he would have hated that I was so “weak”, and it made me hate my addiction even more. This was part of the reason I couldn’t help him when he tried to turn around. To this day my little brother is part of my strength to stay clean. Like he said I can just say no. I’m strong.

I called my P.O. to let him know I wasn’t coming in, and he said. “This is a chance for you to learn you have to keep pushing forward when life hits you, so I need you to still report for community service.”
“This motherfucker,” I thought, “They see me as trash, nothing, worthless, or does he think I am not hurt by this because I’m a criminal drug addict and I’m just making an excuse to dip out of an obligation?” I was livid but also not willing to go to jail over my belief so I went.
I was wrong, but I didn’t realize until I was on the side of the road picking up trash crying my eyes out The people driving by probably thought I was either an insane person or surprisingly extremely emotionally affected by the town of Saint Alban’s litter problem. He was right, I felt so much better pushing through than I would have if I would have stayed home and just gave up. I had the strength to. I was strong.

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After that, about a week and a half later, I was being picked up by my stepdad to go to the courthouse to do a urine test. He picked me up and immediately I could tell he was in pain. He said it was extreme heartburn, and it must have been what he ate the night before because he woke up like this.
I went to the courthouse and came back to him sweating profusely and half out of it. I asked him if he wanted me to drive and he agreed. This worried me because he knew that I had no license and wouldn’t let me drive unless it was an emergency.

Gery worked 24/7. He lived in North Carolina and drove to our house in Alum Creek every weekend
(I mean everyone no matter what). He grew up with my mom. They were childhood sweethearts, they got married in their 20s, split up, and got back together in their 50’s. They were each other first kiss, and my mom punched him in the face for kissing her, She was real direct about her rejections. But he treated her like an angel every day they were together, and even when they weren’t together he would come and visit us and help us figure stuff out. He built my first computer for me. And put Shrek on it which I watch a million times over. Gery was a hero and taught me what it was to be a man, a real man not the B.S. they try to feed young boys in action films.

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I tried to convince him to let me take him to the doctor He declined with one of his frequent lines, “They will just charge me 1200 dollars to tell me they don’t know what’s wrong, I’ll make an appointment with my family doctor when I get home.” I agreed knowing that once my mom saw him like that she would force him to go to the doctor.

Then right when we passed Dunbar's exit he starting screaming in pain and holding his chest. I tried to talk to him but he was out of it. It was like I wasn’t even there. So I sped off the Jefferson exit so they could help him. I was too late for that too. He went into what seemed like was a seizure but was a heart attack and died before we got there. I still think about how I got him some aspirin before we left Winfield but it was the wrong type, but I honestly don’t think that would have helped, or at least I like to tell myself that there was nothing else I could have done.
When they gave me the news I fell apart. It must be so hard for nurses and doctors to break that kind of news so often and watch someone’s heart break. I couldn’t just call my mom and tell her. I had to go and tell her in person. I pulled out of the hospital with the car my Stepdad just died in, his stuff was still in the car. I stopped on Childress road to fall apart once more before I got home so I could be strong for my mother.

I met her on the porch with the news. She was devastated. I held her while she cried. Then I realized all the strength Gary had to support her and me. The same strength that allowed him to get out of bed after having heart attacks and drive to pick up his stepson so he could stay in a program to make him better. I had to have that kind of strength now. For her and my family.

And I got it, I just have to envision what Gery would do, or what my brother would say to me and I usually had the answer but if I don’t have the answer it would allow me the strength to push forward.

Through all this I remained sober, I eventually got. full custody of my daughter, got a home, car, and the best girlfriend I could imagine. It’s been over two years and I’m still sober but to be honest I feel like I have lost my strength.

I have been slacking in my program, going to very few meetings, doing the bare minimum as a father, boyfriend, son, and I haven’t seen my little brother’s daughter since he was still alive. She lives in Columbus but that’s no excuse. I haven’t been meditating, praying maybe a couple of times a week, sleeping every chance I can get, and I haven’t been posting on The Wayve for months. I have done what a lot of people in recovery and just people, in general, do sometimes I have gotten complacent. I had dreams of being a beautiful part of this world and spreading inspiration and I let my issues, and the pandemic get in the way of my dreams, better yet my purpose. Where is the drive I had two years ago that kept me strong through two of the most important people in my life passing?
Where is that strength? I know my God has it if I ask for it daily instead of just a couple times a month. I know my support team is always there for me if I call or at least answer the phone when they call. But I feel like I have lost the ability to fight through well, anything it seems. But I can get it back

So for the next week, my main priority is to get back in the swing of things and start all my old routines. I am going to find that strength. I am going to become active again in the Wayve, my blog on Peakd.
I am going to start working out again, praying, planning, meditating, writing (god do I miss writing), making videos, everything that I am passionate about. Because I am strong enough to face every roadblock on the way to my purpose. God’s purpose for me.

Writing this piece has helped me understand that I did have that strength. It is in me. So if you are in a slump write about a time you pushed through when you wanted to give up. You can put it in the comment section, post it in the Wayve, or write it on a piece of paper to keep with you and remind you that you have the strength necessary. It will help you. I promise.

I am such a lucky guy but I have been in a slump. It doesn’t make me a bad person. If you feel the same or similar use this message to be your spark and join me. I am going to wait a about a week to post this so if you are reading this I made it lol. Addict or not, message, post on the Wayve, just ahold of me in any way if you want to be vulnerable and have someone to listen to you. I am here.

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It's so heartbreaking to read about your losses, one after another. You have three important female in your life, as well as your niece who I'm sure would love to see her uncle. Stay strong, if not for yourself, for all those who need you. Take care!

Thank you man! And you are right. Gotta keep pushing forward. I just got done with a personal experiment to get back at it and it helped a lot. Gotta stay strong and I am blessed to have people like and this community.

More writing like this please‼️
I know you have many powerful stories to tell like this one. You did a great job expressing locked emotion. I know it couldn’t have been easy, but you did it.

You can get back into your routines and probably even do better than you were doing once before.

RIP to Supremo and Gary.

My heart is bleeding as I read every line. My thoughts and prayers for you and your family. Be strong for your family. They need you now more than ever, especially your mother.

If writing like this would help in releasing some of those emotions you've been keeping, by all means, please write more.

I probably have been reading this late. I have been in a slump in terms of writing and curating lately. I should have read this yesterday because it was poshed by @daltono, but I slacked off in my posh curation.