Tag Archives: grief

Letters to Joey….5

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Dear Joey,

It’s been almost two years since we have seen each other.  It’s time for some closure.  It’s been 1 year, 8 months and some change in fact.  All I ever wanted to know was if you were happy, if you were OK.  Screw being happy, I wanted to know that you were OK.  Happiness is an emotion and all emotions are temporary.  I know I say that all the time, but its true.

I don’t know why, but after a million failed attempts to contact you I still missed you.  I hate that it took me so long to realize that you were the best friend I ever had, and possibly ever will have.  When you finally answered back that you were doing great, I was in shock, obviously.  I didn’t expect to hear from you again after that, and as you know I didn’t.

Out of everything that I lost, you were the hardest to let go of.  Sometimes I think that you wouldn’t even recognize me, however I think you saw this guy long before I could imagined him to be possible.  You believed in something that I just could not see.

Now there is someone that has the best of me.  Someone I let in, although that’s something I never planned on.  I never wanted to give someone else the opportunity to hurt me and now I have. I love him.  It means I’m moving forward, and I’m starting to forget.  I never want to forget you, but forgetting how it felt to loose you has been beneficial.

Love Always, DD

 

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Letters to Joey…..2

Dear Joey,

It’s been a little over 11 months since you have talked to me.  At this point, I have stopped trying to contact you.  I’m used to the fact that you’re gone, and having to speak to you again at this moment would only throw a wrench in my life.  Thar doesn’t mean that I don’t think about you still.  It seems like it’s a daily thing, for you to cross my mind, but it’s usually just a passing thought that isn’t made up out of fear or guilt.  I have not cried, nor have I felt empty without you near me in quite some time.  It seems at the moment, dare I say, that I have learned to let go in order to move forward.

You wouldn’t even recognize the man that I have become.  You helped push me to this point, but I did a lot of hard work on my own, and while some credit is yours for leaving me and opening my eyes to the reality of my addiction, most of the credit I take for myself.  It’s only through hard work and perseverance that I was able to succeed.

Today I write this letter as a cosmetology teacher.  I finished school at the top.  I didn’t miss a day, not an hour.  That right there would seem like a huge commitment but I knew that’s what I had to do, and while doing something that I loved, it seemed rather effortless.  I made such a big impression that the school I attended hired me on at their campus to teach the cosmetology program.  I have never felt more blessed then I have this past year.  I have received two pay checks so far, both more then any other paycheck I’ve received in my life.  On top of that, my company has given me a retirement fund, paid vacation and all the other benefits someone should have at my age.  I’m trying to keep Vera’s one day a week.  I can’t just yet let go of my clients or walk away from her.  She has been there for me through this whole process of losing you and re establishing my life.  It’s also time for me to save some money and move out of this house.  It’s almost been a year also since I moved in with my family to also help me escape the loss I felt over you and to give me an outlet to set the stage for my personal growth.  What I have accomplished in a year still makes me stop and shake my head in disbelief.

As long as I keep doing the next best thing for myself and the people around me, I’m going to be just fine.  My new career awards me with such satisfaction.  These kids really look up to me for the positive attitude I have and the experience I bring to the table.  I still see Bonnie once a week and she also validates me on the progress I have made.  I barley remember the boy that showed up to her office a year ago having a complete breakdown, just days before checking into rehab.  Also, there is a boy, that just might be the one.  I’m not going to let my fears sabotage this relationship like I have in the past.  It’s brand new, but after last night I really feel closer to the possibility of having a “boyfriend”.

I’ll never forget you Joey.  I’ll always thing about you.  I hope for my sake that we do hold off on seeing each other again.  This time I guess I need my space when not so long ago the obsession of seeing you one more time was all I could think about.  It’s hard to say, but I can’t see you again.  Not now.  I don’t want to anymore.  It has nothing to do with not loving you, it’s the fears of what emotions might be brought back up after all the hard work I’ve done to release those very emotions.  I just need you to know that I’ll love you forever.

Love Always and I mean that….

DD

 

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Letters to Joey….1

Dear Joey,

It’s has taken me 7 months to be able to mention your name, to face reality instead of pretend that I never even met you.  It’s been 7 months and I can finally say your name without beginning to cry.  7 whole months since I’ve loved somebody with all my being, even though it seemed like I only loved myself.  I miss you.

Today is Valentines Day.  Last year I remember that you came over to my apartment and brought me over my big stuffed dog.  I named him “Jelly Bean”.  That over the top, enormous stuffed dog became my pillow, as you know, and I slept with that guy every night until the end.  After you left that day, I threw myself onto my bed and buried my face into Jelly Bean.  I held on to him so tight, as I screamed into him, hopefully muffling my voice from the neighbors all around me.  I have never cried so hard in my life.  It was more then crying, it really was screaming.  That dog absorbed more tears that night then I have produced all year.  I still have him.  To keep him in my room would have been a torturous reminder that you were gone, but i did put him in a large box, in my brothers attic.  The attic itself is hard enough to be in because of all the time we spent together there.  I was thinking today that I’m glad I still have him, just in case you do come back to me, he would represent a bridge connecting our past to out present, always reminding me of how much you mean to me.

Can you believe I have not worked on a single furniture project since July?  I’m serious.  I went into rehab 5 days after you left me.  I spent most of the summer learning about myself and how to show up to be the man that I want to be in the world.  I attended NA and became sober for the first time since I was 15.  I have to tell you, because I think you will die.  They told me that I checked in with the highest THC count they have ever seen.  isn’t that crazy?  It’s funny and embarrassing at the same time!  I lost control of reality along time ago and saw how I used drugs to completely avoid that reality for many years.  I did 101 days completely sober of everything, then decided I should be able to have a drink like a normal human being.  I have also smoked here and there, but never at the capacity I was capable of before.  I was diagnosed for having an extreme anxiety disorder, and that I was NOT bi-polar after all.  My awesome doctor there changed all my medications and It feels good to actually feel “normal” again.

I am 7 weeks away from graduating school.  I had to put it off twice because of rehab, but I’m so glad I did.  I have the best class, and the best teacher.  It also looks like there are a few positions available and I could be a teacher by April.  TEACHING BY APRIL?  Everything has happened so quickly.  I am so busy. I still work at Vera’s and she is still crazy.  I have a second job at the neighborhood chop shop (I’ll explain some other time), while managing school and student teaching.  Who am I, right??

Everything has changed, and its changed because of you.  I hope that I get to show you the man that I have become since you left me.  I swear I think about you EVERYDAY.  I miss you so bad it hurts.  I hope you will miss me someday and call.  I’m always waiting to hear your special ringtone go off.  Someday I will.  I know it.  I love you.

 

Love Always,

D.D.

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When things cant get any worse, thats when they start to get better

I hate that this is a “thing”.  I hate that I have to believe in this, that I have no choice but to have faith in something bigger then myself.  I hate that it’s seemingly true, that my so called life never seemed so hopeless in my 35 years as it was in July of 2015.  I hate I’ll be turning 36 and I know for a fact that he won’t be there with me this year like he was last year.  I hate how much I cried, how much it hurt and that I’m beginning to forget the worst pain I ever felt.

Sometimes I wake up and I feel OK, other days I get out of bed and I feel sad still.  Recently I’ve been waking  up and I feel angry, with an “its your loss” type attitude towards the only human being in the world that made me realize I was a monster.  What is different here than other days is the simple fact that I actually “wake up”.  I get up, I take a shower, I plan my day and move forward.  On July 1st of 2015 this seemingly simple way to start the day wasn’t possible.  The realization of what I became and who people saw me as in the world was crippling.  One of my best friends said “I know that you feel like you will never be normal again, but trust me, you will.” I did trust her and I can tell you that she was right.  Today I feel normal.  I am not crippled by my guilt.  I am anything but fake, and I’m not overly happy, and basking in the sunlight of new sobriety.

Life is still in a transition.  I still live with my parents, and I’m still in school.  Sometimes I feel like it’s never going to get better, or when it does, I won’t know how be responsible as an adult.  I know my thoughts are opinions, not facts, but that doesn’t stop them from getting the best of me sometimes.  Especially days I’m on a no carb diet, but that’s a completely different story for another day.

Even though I’m moving forward, and beginning to let go of the past, I know no matter how far ahead I get, it will haunt me forever.  I may forget how painful it was to loose him, and no matter how scared I may be someday I will forget, It’s certain my scars will last forever, and I’ll never forget his name.

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Three Months and I’m still breathing…

I stumbled upon this song as I approach my 90 day mile marker of being clean.  It brought tears to my eyes.  It reminded me that I’m not only 3 months sober, but its also been three months since I lost someone that I loved very much.  I was an addict that could not be trusted.  He had every right to walk away, and I wanted him to save his own life from my hell.  In return I slowly learned to save myself after that day brought me to my knees and into an outpatient facility.  He wanted no more contact from me ever again.  He has no idea what changes I have made in my life and probably never will.  I miss him everyday, but things have gotten easier.  This will forever be a side effect that the disease of addiction stained my life with.

Joey, I miss you.  Your pain left me with so much guilt that I never thought I could live another day by myself.  Here I am 3 months later, still sober, still breathing, and still standing.  I’m learning to let go.  I’m learning to walk again on my own.

Sober

By Kelly Clarkson

I don’t know
This could break my heart or save me
Nothing’s real
Until you let go completely
So here I go with all my thoughts I’ve been saving
So here I go with all my fears weighing on me

Three months and I’m still sober
Picked all my weeds but kept the flowers
But I know it’s never really over

I don’t know
I could crash and burn but maybe
At the end of this road I might catch a glimpse of me
So I won’t worry about my timing I wanna get it right
No comparing
Second guessing
No, not this time

Three months and I’m still breathing
Been a long road since those hands I left my tears in but I know
It’s never really over, no

Wake up

Three months and I’m still standing here
Three months and I’m getting better yeah
Three months and I still am

Three months and it’s still harder now
Three months I’ve been living here without you now
Three months yeah, three months

Three months and I’m still breathing
Three months and I still remember it
Three months and I wake up

Three months and I’m still sober
Picked all my weeds but kept the flowers

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Auto Biography Of An Addict Part 5 (HItting Rock Bottom; Everything Happens For A Reason)

They teach us in NA that changing geographic locations in order to escape our addiction never works.  That we learn to manipulate new people to get and find the drugs that we want.  I wish I read that book before I decided to move!!  Guess what I did after I moved?  I lied to my family about where I was and what I was doing.  I kept my job in the city and continued to use Meth as a way to escape the reality that had become my life.  After I found a new job in the suburbs, I lost my job at Floyd’s after I walked out one Sunday in a self centered tantrum.  This is nothing new for me, the addict.  I’ve broken many bridges with employers doing the same thing.  After my full departure of the city I then felt so lonely that I manipulated new people to get and find the drugs that I wanted.

I met someone.  He was a good kid.  He was 14 years younger then me but a whole lot smarter then me.  He’s the only name I feel like I need to protect in the story of my life, however eventually hurting me in the end like I set him up to do.  I refused to date him.  To me, I was a horrible person, caught in the grips of addiction and I didn’t want to expose him to the animal that I became.  I loved this guy very much for all the times he was there for me when I needed him.  He didn’t have the label of being my boyfriend, even as much as he tried, but emotionally and physically became just that to me.  I tried to “white knuckle” my way through life at this point with my addiction to meth.  I thought drinking and smoking pot was ok, as long as I didn’t do meth, however I was still using these drugs to mask the reality of my addiction.  I used twice in the period of 8 months that I told this kid I wasn’t using.  He really was my anti drug.  He kept me clean for as long as my brain would allow it.  I never then used because I wanted to have fun.  I used so I could feel normal again.  I wanted independence.  I had my own studio apartment in Glen Ellyn and my boy had a key.  He cooked me dinner, he bought me a puppy for Christmas and he helped me with anything I asked.  This guy was the most loyal human being that has even been apart of my life.  I felt like a piece of shit.  My ship sailed a long time ago and I missed my ride.  If I pushed him away from me, then maybe he would not miss his.  I was no one to even try to spend your life with and I reminded him everyday.  He chose to stick around and I honestly treated him the best that I could in the state of mind and emotion that I was in.

My suburban job sucked.  I hated work.  I was at a salon all day doing nothing but smoking weed and sitting on dating apps that I swore to my friend that I would stay off of.  I couldn’t take it anymore.  I called my old boss at Floyd’s and begged for my job back.  I knew that I should not be back in the city but I needed to feel how it felt to actually make money and be productive again.  Everything happens for a reason.  The district managers who I figured hated me anyways, denied my request for a re hire.  This left me feeling so broken, knowing there was no way out.  There was no future for me.  I thought this was a guarantee that I was going to fail, a realization that on most days, I smoked myself stupid so I could accept this fate.  Strike 1.

I needed an out so naturally I turned to my dating app to seek meth.  I found it.  I planned it.  I planned it so precisely that I told myself that I couldn’t smoke weed when I got home or I would get to lazy to meet up with this troll that was going to get me high for free in exchange for a night with my body.  I wish I never downloaded this app that night, an app I promised my guy I would never use again.  Strike 2.

While using I got a text from my friend that I’ll never forget.  “I hope that app you were on 2 hours ago was worth our relationship”.  I turned my phone over, already high and finished my night.  Strike 3.  I went hope and obviously couldn’t sleep.  I stared at the wall for 12 continuous hours.  No TV, no music.  Nothing.  My buddy came over to get his things and to tell me he could no longer talk to me, and I couldn’t talk to him, a promise that he has kept to this day.  Strike 4.  I lost it.  I went crazy.  The next day I had to move in with my parents because I couldn’t afford to live on my own, and couldn’t even be sitting alone as thoughts of self harm crept into my brain.  Strike 5.  I went to my doctor and wanted to beg for Xanax.  Everything happens for a reason.  She was rushed into emergency delivery, a month early in her pregnancy, and I was thrown into an office of a doctor that had no clue who I was or what I was going through.  Strike 6.  This doctor suggested Linden Oaks out patient.  I figured this was  a mental health program that I had NO time for.  I shrugged it off, as if she was the crazy one and went home.  I polished off my Xanax and drank heavily for the 4th of July weekend.  I have never been so broken in my life.  I swear I cried for 6 days hysterically every time I had a moment alone at the loss of my friend.  What did I do??

Six or seven strikes of life brought me to my knees.  I emotionally collapsed,  I wanted to die.  I wanted to end my life.  I needed the pain to stop.  The next morning was just as bad as any.  at 7 AM I took that crazy doctors advice and called Linden Oaks assessment hotline.  I had an hour to get there and have my life assessed, whatever that even meant.  I wish I knew then that I made the most important phone call I have ever made in my life.  Recovery was right around the corner.

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