Hey Spacedog here….
It’s been a while. There was not going to originally be a post until next week but I just decided yesterday that enough was enough. What is it that I am coming off of you ask?
Well first off, my absence from here is mostly pandemic related. Out of all the billions of individuals in the world, I am probably in the top 1% of people with insane paranoid reactions. Eventually though I kinda grew to like it. I got to wear a mask so no one would know who I was. I didn’t have to worry if suddenly after 8 years of grand mal seizures today would be the day and I’d go straight into the Delaware River on my way to my doctor’s office. And I didn’t have to have any house guests! I became the Maybelline Girl. Maybe she’s born with it maybe it’s Maybelline! I was born for this.
Anyway….
So I’ve got to say I have been quite a bit off about one thing I have been telling people recently. My sobriety date from alcohol…. I really thought I drank this year. Nope the receipts clearly show November 17, 2019. Not that the difference between that and February 1st really matters much to me. All I know is the last 3 times I drank were rum, beer, and sparkling seltzer in that order. The rum tasted stale so I ended up dumping 4 ozs of a 14 oz bottle. The beer I ended up having to just toss after 5 of 12 because frankly it made me feel beyond shitty. As for the sparkling seltzer it was surprisingly good but actually still made me feel awful afterwards. Most of these manifestations I describe above were physical.
I sorta just quit. I did not need any bells and whistles or pats on the back. I kinda just did it on my own and it was mine and mine alone. No one could brag about how wonderful of a person they were to get me sober (while doing meth on the side, thanks AA Sponsor #6) or how they were so vital to my recovery (Here looking at you Sponsor #4, enjoy the oxys). Frankly I just did not care anymore. I guess I’m at day 275 or 276 or something for those who are counting. Frankly I’m not…..
So what is it I am coming off of right now? It’s nothing sexy or dangerous like meth or heroin or molly or crack or coke. Just some plain old cigarettes and coffee.
I can honestly say I feel entirely better than I thought I would at this point. I am a master at coming off of drugs, but sadly I am a bit rusty. I feel between all the antidepressants, heroin (several times), alcohol, and mood stabilizers I have been in this moment at least 30 different occasions before.
This occasion is really mild. The heroin was the worst by far but only when I was snorting it. I honestly only even got minor withdrawal no matter how much I shot. Alcohol I had about 2 Leaving Las Vegas spells in my 20s, but not really any withdrawal other than that.
The anti-depressants quite honestly to me were the biggest joke as well as the hardest legal drugs I have ever had to come off of. Depakote, lithium, effexor, paxil, prozac, seroquil, serzone. A laundry list of harm to me. Suicidal, emotionless, too much fake joy, sexless, mania, and winner winner chicken dinner homicidal respectively.
I seriously called poison control when it came to the Serzone. I kept thinking of what kind of knives my neighbors had and what it would be like to use them. And my nails look like I applied a bright coat of dark pink nail polish. P Control literally had no idea how to help me with what was going on. I called my friend Seth on the phone a few minutes later and he informed me he was on that garbage and to have some milk. A minute later my nails returned to normal, my thoughts came back shortly after.
Honestly coffee was going to be a battle for next week to give up but as I settled in on my couch at home I smelled the faint scent of flowers. It was mostly roses but maybe some lavender or lilac. I usually get this when my spirit guide is nearby. Anyway so I figured I’d just go to bed. At 6pm.
Then woke up at 130 and started writing this blog. I think I wholeheartedly can say that 1:30AM is a shitty ass time to wake up. I suppose this would be the absolute perfect time to wake up if I were say a rapist. Boom sober, boom bar, boom victim and whatever else rapey people do in between. Spray themselves down with the most vile of scents. I’m sure there are nice smelling rapists but frankly none of my rapists were Glade Scent Stories inspired. Obscure reference I know…. glade scent stories were this little thing that looked like a CD Walkman and you put the CD in and it would through a few scents per CD.
Physically though I’m feeling pretty good all things considered. I was highly disappointed that I was not able to pick out any online courses last evening but if my path is less than 24 hours off I really shouldn’t let myself worry too much. I really am not missing the cigarettes a whole lot especially without that stupid nicotine patch making my arm itch like crazy.
Coffee…. well I’ve just been trying to find any and all negative information. All I know is it comes from a plant and well I am inching oh so close to the Carnivore Diet or something similar. I still haven’t felt right since I juiced kale, zucchini, brocolli and lime. It tasted terrible. Rape victim of the jolly Green Giant terrible. Threw up 30 minutes later and passed out for 2.5 hours after.
So coffee….wheeeeee….. I probably should have tapered off down to 1 cup a day before I quit but I’m always up for a bigger challenge and a better suffering at this point. I’ve been drinking 3-5 cups a day for a few weeks. All this self imposed lockdown, this suffering, this absence of bliss will pay off in spades one day I tell myself.
I just don’t want to be half sober. I feel all of these people out there in Alcoholics Anonymous and all these other recovery programs are the biggest bunch of hypocrites on the planet. They are following around a plan based on 80 years of complete horseshit and pseudoscience. I guess I get it though. Most people are too weak and broken to get better on their own. They never seek their answers within and only rely on outside counsel. They drink coffee like fish, chain smoke like the marlboro man, and eat some of the worst cookies on the planet. Like seriously maybe I hadn’t been to a meeting in a while, but Chips Ahoy?
I see most of these people now for what they truly are. A bunch of dry drunks going around who like to preach to others because it gives them a sense of self importance. My way or the highway they say.
The absolute funniest thing about these people is they will engage you in normal conversation until you mention that you are not in AA. It’s like I single-handedly broke the matrix somehow. Seriously far more people get sober when not in this archaic broken program. The effectiveness is probably somewhere between aspirin between the knees and self baptism in your favorite local polluted body of water. I guess I shouldn’t knock anyone though it’s just frustrating.
I was put on this Earth to help others and sometimes I think the only way I am going to be able to do it is lie my teeth off. Sure I can lie my teeth off if I meet you somewhere by random chance….. like if I needed to come up with a BS story for my Grubhub driver or a grocery store clerk. When it comes to write though I don’t have that luxury. It’s just not in my blood. Brutal honesty or no writing. Only two options here.
But the moral of the story is it is only day 2 and day 1. cigarettes and coffee. It would be nice to be able to honestly just listen in to an AA meeting but I know I am not welcome at any. Well of course I am just not one meeting in particular I went to drunk because my wonderful sponsor #3 thought that Tori Amos concerts were going to somehow involve me shooting meth and going to circuit parties.
man I pick the winners! I seriously hope I don’t pick a husband as poorly one day as these sponsors. My award-winning sponsor picking is literally on par with Larry King and his fantastic wife picking. (I have no idea who any of his wives are, but I just assume if that many people would willing marry someone he either has a giant penis or a giant bank account) .
Gotta pick courses now will post tomorrow if I am not dead already.
By Spacedog
Les Sober