Sex, Drugs, and Suicide

I just watched an episode of Dexter.  The episode where he joins N.A.  It made me think of my brief experience with that group.

I was really messed up about 5 years ago.  I mean REALLY.  Looking back now I see how crazy my thinking was but at the time it all made perfect sense.  I had just dropped my kids off with their father.  I cried he whole 1 1/2 hour long trip back to my house.  I was at a place where I really felt that I corrupted every thing I touched and I didn't want to corrupt my children.  Up until that point, I had always looked at suicides with scorn.  I always thought of suicide as the most wanton act of selfishness possible.  But all that long drive home, it's all I thought about.

I had a bunch of coke at home.  More than I would ever do at once, but that night I decided the world would be a better place without me in it.  At first I did all the coke.  I thought I would o.d. and everyone would believe it was an accident.  I sat in the tub so fucking coked out I couldn't stop shaking and I hated myself.  I sat there with a hammer in my hand and I just kept hitting myself with it.  I know it sounds crazy.  It was crazy.  I was crazy.

I finally realized I wasn't going to o.d. so I got out of the tub and found a box cutter.  I stabbed myself in the wrist and pulled it down towards me.  I bled so much.  I was sitting there bleeding and bleeding and all I could think about was that I was ruining the carpet.  So I got a towel and very lightly wrapped it around my arm to absorb the blood.  I had a fight with my boyfriend earlier which wasn't the reason for this, but I was worried he would think so.  To me the fight was just one more sign that I ruined everything I touched.  I did not want to leave him thinking that it was his fault.   I tried to call him but he didn't answer.  I was frantic - I felt like I had to let him know it wasn't because of him.  I called a friend of his.  By this time, I was hyperventilating from the coke, and light-headed and cold from the loss of blood.  His friend could tell something was wrong.  He said he was going to hang up and call 911.  But I told him I was just super high.  I did not want to be stopped. 
I wanted to die. 
I finally convinced him I was ok and hung up.

I ended up emailing my boyfriend.  Trying to explain.   The towel around my wrist was completely soaked so I got another one and rewrapped my arm.  When I was done, I laid down on the floor and waited to die.  I felt so peaceful.  For the first time in my life I just let go of everything.  I have never forgotten that calm and peaceful feeling.

I woke up in the morning.  At first I was really angry.  I felt like I was such a complete and utter fuck-up that I couldn't even do this right.  But I also took it as a sign.  I wasn't meant to die.  At least not by my own hand.   I went to the store for gauze and the cashier bandaged my arm for me.  I told her I hurt myself doing home repairs.  That's the story I told everyone.  Then I joined N.A.

I didn't go for long.  I'm not trying to knock it.  It works for some people.  It just wasn't for me.  All that talking about our old drug crazed escapades.  It just made me want to relive them.  I would sit in the meetings and want coke so bad it made my teeth hurt.  I don't know how else to explain it. 

What it did for me though was show me what my true addiction was.  It showed me how much I hated myself and how hard I worked at hurting myself.  My addiction wasn't coke, it was trying to destroy myself.  I saw all the ways I had tried to do that in my life.  From playing russian roulette and hitchhiking as a teenager to random sex with strangers, all the drugs I've done, and all the bad relationships I've been in.  And every time I was in a relationship I was clean.  No drugs.  I didn't need to hurt myself with drugs because my bf or husband was doing it for me by beating the crap out of me, cheating on me, or just generally treating me like dirt.

I haven't done drugs since.  Nothing.  Nada.   For me, self-knowledge has always been a powerful tool.  I've avoided relationships with men.  I don't trust myself enough yet to have a healthy relationship.  I'm working on myself.  It was hard at first.  I've always used drugs to deal with the pain of my childhood.  For the first time in my life I let myself feel the feelings instead of drugging them away.  It hurt.  It still hurts but not as much.  I'm getting better.  And I'm happy.  Most importantly, I've learned to like myself.  I think clearly now.  I will NEVER do that again.  Now I know, my children need me.  Even though they're grown.  I'm proud of them.  And even though I'm ashamed for what I did, I've learned to forgive myself and be proud of myself for learning from it.

Wow.  I didn't mean for this to be such a long and dark blog.  Now you know, why I'm anonymous.  I don't want the people I love to know these things about me.  There are very few people who even knew I was doing drugs.  Certainly not my family, or my co-workers.  And even fewer who know I tried to kill myself.  I'm a person with a lot of secrets.  I wish I wasn't.  I'm hoping this blog will let me slowly bring them to the light so I can finally put them all behind me.