Ten days before Andrea and I started speaking to one another, rather than just knowing one another was probably one of the toughest times of my life.  A little before the first of the year, I had decided that doping was not the way I wanted to spend my life.  So, I proceeded to lock myself in my room and sweat, shake, cry, vomit, scream, vomit some more, and just want to die in general.  On the 12th, I decided to go out to get a beer, to take the edge off.  (Ha)  I ended up running into some “friends” of mine.  One being my dealer, who was obviously really missing my daily financial contribution of about 150 bucks.  So, she decided that she would give me some “free dope”.  One rule.  There really is no such thing as free dope.  It’s just a ploy to get you hooked, either again, or for the first time.  But, I took it.

That night, a friend who had no where to live asked if she could crash at my house.  I didn’t mind, I had an extra room, so what the heck?  Right?  When we got to my house, she started wigging out.  I was saying goodbye to another friend, and as I spun around to see what her problem was, I see a 4 foot long Red Bull mirror being swung at my face.  I didn’t even have time to react.  It just hit me.  I stumbled backwords, feeling the blood running down my face.  I didn’t know if glass had caught my eye or what, so I just stumbled around.

I heard a scream, I opened my eyes, she had grabbed a broken piece of glass and had her sights set on me.  Next thing I knew, I had been stabbed in the stomach, and was being cut all over with this piece of glass.  The only thing going through my mind was my mom’s voice.  “I don’t care what happens. Never.  Ever.  EVER hit a woman.” I was trying to figure out what I could do without hitting this girl.

Finally, I was able to grab her arms. (by now, both hands had pieces of glass, covered in my blood.)  I spun her around, and she stumbled to the ground.  I immediately sat on her.  Holding her arms with my knees.  I sat there for about 20 minutes while she kicked and screamed.  Finally she fell asleep.

Looking back, I assume she was wigging out on dope.  At the time, I just thought someone wanted me dead. After she fell asleep, I got up, stumbled to my bed, still bleeding and laid down.   (It was about 3:00 am on January 13th. A friday)

That morning, I was being poked.  I woke up to see a sherrif hovering over my bed.  I immediatly realized that my room probably looked like a murder scene.  But that is not why he was there.  His mission for the day was to evict my family.  yay.  I helped move some of the breakables out. (The guys that move you out don’t pay much attention to fragile stickers.  I had learned this two evictions ago.) After an hour of helping, I had to get to work.  I got a ride in, and when I got there, my boss handed me my last check, and told me I couldn’t work there anymore, and I that I needed to get help.  wow.  I knew today was not going to be a good day.  I got a ride back to my [former] house.  I got my dad.  I loaded him, and his wheelchair and my brother up, took them to a pay by the night, extended stay hotel.  I paid for two weeks, and I left.

With the rest of my money I went out, bought a mass quantity of dope, and alcohol.  Thinking back, I don’t believe I had intended to live past that night.  I went into the bathroom at the bar and did the entire bag of dope.  I paid the bartender, and stumbled out the door.  I walked up highway 78 a couple of miles and stumbled into the woods.  Laid down, and went to sleep.  I don’t know how long I was “asleep” but something woke me up, and I had an urge to live.  I walked to a gas station, stole a beanie hat, walked around back, to an outdoor bathroom, locked the door, and curled up.  That is where I spend the rest of my night.  That is also where I spent the next few nights, without drugs.  Without anything but time to think.  That, to me, was rock bottom.

I went back to my dad’s hotel room.  He let me crash on the floor.  The day before my birthday I went out, just for beer.  Still sobering up.  And got arrested for driving under the influence. When I got out of jail, I got on my dad’s laptop, got online, and sure enough, the most beautiful woman on the face of the earth was online.  I chatted her.  She informed me that she was supposed to be at my surprise party, that was called off, because I was in jail.  We haven’t gone but a few days without talking since that day.  A few months after starting to talk to her, I accepted Jesus Christ into my heart.  My life has NEVER been the same.

I count my sober day as January 13th.  That was the last day I ever did drugs.  Ever.  It took me a while to realize alcohol was also a problem, but I realized it.  Thank God!

I look back at these days, and just can’t believe it.  Two days ago, Andrea and I were kind of freaking out about having to take money out of our savings.  OUR SAVINGS!  Praise God that we have a SAVINGS!  Two or three years ago that was non existent!  I am a completely different person and there is no one to thank for that but Jesus Christ!   Really, it’s….. it’s…… beyond words.

Thank You God!

I believe God pulled me

When I sat down to write about different kinds of addictions, I thought that I would be able to.  I honestly thought I would have enough to say, and know enough about it.  Now, it’s time for me to get real.  There are a million and one reasons someone will use drugs.  My mother got addicted, because while she was asleep, her boyfriend, (My “Bio-Dad”) shot crank into her arm.  That is how she got addicted.  That sucks.  I got addicted, just by using it.  I have friends that used recreationally for years before it got the best of them.

I think the amount of people I know who used or use drugs is what is making this so difficult to write.  So, one blog into this “series”, I’m stopping.  Why?  I don’t have all of the answers.  Here’s the real.  If you are addicted to anything,  Sex, drugs, alcohol, the internet, porn, chocolate, coffee, affection, attention, twitter, shopping, or microwavable dinners, you have a problem.  I was going to try and analyze it, and pull each one apart, but the truth is, there is a separation.  You want to be separated from the world, because it, or something in it, has hurt you so badly.  I know that hurt.  I have experienced that hurt.  I have (pretty much) overcome that hurt.

How?

There is a beautiful grace in the love and heart of Jesus Christ.  Sound corny?  I used to think so too.  I was also addicted to refusing to believe there was a higher power.  Until I finally hit rock bottom.  I woke up, a sheriff hovering over my bed, I still had stab wounds that had not yet stopped bleeding, and I was being evicted.  I got to work that day, and I lost my job.  That night, (January 14^th 2006), I slept in the woods for most of the night and then a gas station bathroom with a beanie hat I had just stolen from the gas station to get warm.  That is when I decided to turn around, and look at my life.  It wasn’t long after that when I finally allowed Jesus into my heart.  That is when my life, though still sometimes difficult to deal with, became whole.  That is when I was finally not alone anymore.

If you have an addiction, no matter how small you think it is, I urge you to get help.  If you don’t know where to go, E-mail me, comment here, find someone else to talk to.  I don’t want you to hit rock bottom.  Because for some people, rock bottom is dead.  I don’t want you to hit rock bottom, because that is the darkest, coldest, loneliest place in this world. I don’t want you to go through anything I went through.  or worse.  I might not know you, but I can promise I do not wish those lonely days on anyone.  Please consider looking into help.  Google it, Yellow Page it, talk to anyone who might have some answers.

I care about this world.  I care about the people of this world.  That includes you.  No one is any better than anyone else, and YOU deserve a second chance at life.  But, to get it, you have to go get it.

That’s all I have for ramblings today.  If you want to add to this, please let me know.  Also, definitely comment!!