“First time I ever felt hope in years, was when I came to Ventura Recovery Center.”
I was the walking dead. I had no life when I was addicted to drugs. My life consisted of waking up, getting high and sitting around the rest of the day miserable. I had about 10 minutes of joy, 20 minutes of joy and that came from the phone call or once I made the phone call. I knew I can get something, I would get giddy and happy as soon as the needle hit my arm… That happiness lasted for about 10-15 more minutes and after that was gone. I was filled with worry. What was I going to do for the rest of the day? What was I going to do tomorrow? How was I going to make it through? What was I going to do to get high tomorrow? The rest of it was just lies, to everyone, family myself. Anything I needed to tell myself or anyone to stay out of my way. It was miserable. I lied about pointless shit, even If I was going to 7/11 I would lie about it. I was going somewhere else. And I would be at 7/11 buying cigarettes, there would be no reason to lie. But I would and I don’t know why I would. I felt everything else was a lie so I had to keep lying all day long to almost believe it myself. The only friends I had left were my “using buddies” and even when I wouldn’t be high I would have no one to call but them. Everyone else was tired of my bullshit. Family knew every time I opened my mouth they knew I was lying. They got to the point where they wouldn’t call me on it because they didn’t want to argue or fight. I didn’t care about anyone. I cared about myself, my own needs at the time. The first time I ever saw my dad cry was because of me. I broke my mom’s heart every day for 5-6 years. I think about my mom crying all the time. First time I ever felt hope in years, was when I came here. There’s people that didn’t know me and cared about me more than anyone has in years. I got hope being around people that have been through similar shit that I have. And people in recovery were happy. I felt as much love here, as I did at home. Given the opportunity being sober I could be a spark. For someone else for something… something I’m not quite sure yet. I’m still trying to discover my purpose. My eyes are open and I’m ready to find out what that may be. Even in my dark times I felt I was never meant to be there. I almost felt tricked into the whole situation. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. It just escalated so quickly, and went all downhill. And even in dark times people saw a spark of life in me that I didn’t. My mother definitely recognized it, my sister and certain people I didn’t know would. But I could never find it. Now being here, I’m starting to see what they were talking about. Maybe my energy and weird way of thinking in life can be helpful someone. Don’t give up. You have a purpose in life. If you’re still alive you have a purpose in life, everyone does.