I deeply apologize for being so absent the past few months. I’ve graduated to working a full-time job, and on top of that, it’s graveyard shift. I can honestly say I’ve never been so exhausted in my life. It’s been a struggle. With having so little energy, it’s felt nearly impossible to resist a relapse either into alcohol, self-harm, or the eating disorder. There have been several times that I wanted to give in so badly.
However, I’ve learned something very very important during this constant fight. I’m sure we’ve all heard the phrase “Recovery does not get a day off.” And for a long time, I didn’t grasp the reality of this. You cannot wake up one day and decide that it’s a good day to cheat. “It’s only a little bit. Just one.” - that’s something the addiction might try to tell you. Then again, that’s what I told myself when I cheated on that test in Freshman year, and 4 years later I was graduating high school, having not learned one thing from the previous years, because I cheated on every single test. One day of the wrong mindset can turn into years very quickly.
Having not comprehended this concept just yet, I relapsed in October, where having one drink with a friend turned into finishing off nearly an entire bottle of Malibu Rum, and also half a bottle of Fireball Whiskey. By myself. It was a complete disaster to say the least, and I had to [drunk] text my boyfriend to pick me up.
My boyfriend is also an addict, but not of alcohol. When I met him in July, we were both in the same training class for a new job. I spent July and August getting to know him, until he asked me out. I said no, even though I really did enjoy his company and had feelings for him. Just something seemed off about his behaviors, and I was also scared of getting into a relationship. He respectfully accepted my answer.
Somehow, over the next day or so, I told him my life story. A few days later, he was acting strange, and not wanting to pry, I simply told him if he needed anything, I was there for him. He asked me to take my break at the same time as him, and we walked out to the parking lot. That is when he told me that he had quit the drugs he had been using, and was withdrawing. I went to his house that evening, in case he needed anything.
A few weeks later, I found out he was using again, and it broke my heart. But once I confronted him, he signed up on a methadone program. [And he’s been kicking ass since November!]
This program is very strict. You cannot drink any amount of alcohol, as it could react with the methadone in your system, and create horrible side-effect, or even death. You cannot relapse into street drugs, as they will terminate your contract with the clinic. And you cannot miss a dose.
As I said, I work nights, and my boyfriend does as well. When you go to the clinic to dose, you only have a small window of time. Usually, we go around 5:30 in the morning. I try to go with him every day to show support, and I’m happy to do so. I tell him at least once a week how proud of him I am, because I know the fight is not an easy one, and I know he struggles. He doesn’t quite understand how much I appreciate what he’s done, and the fact that he did it for me.
Sometimes I drive him, because he gets so sleepy. The other day, we drove the the clinic, and he was napping in the passenger seat. I started thinking how difficult this must be for him. I cannot imagine getting up that early after finishing the graveyard shift and only being able to sleep for an hour in between. I thought to myself, if I had to do this to get over any of my addictions, I don’t know if I would have ever made it. I came the sudden realization that my boyfriend really doesn’t get a day off, and probably won’t for at least a year. I’m amazed at how faithful and how determined he is.
I get it now. Recovery really doesn’t get a day off. And I’m determined to tell my habits that, every time they try to tell me otherwise. I may be tired, I may be busy, but I will always be happy to stand against addiction. Because I know I’m fighting for my health, and my life.