This last time on the merry go round of drug addiction as I sat against the unyielding court pews and waited to be remanded, I reflected, not for the first time, how much chaos i was living and breathing.
My beloved car sat morosely outside the courthouse, undoubtedly on tenterhooks in anticipation of my return. The meter clicked down minute by minute and somewhere between the time I was quietly sobbing in the courtroom and the time I was quietly sobbing in my cell in population, they towed it away. My actions had driven everyone in my life away so completely that I didn’t even have anyone to drive my car back home for me. Not only did I have no one to drive my car back, but I essentially didn’t have a home either.
That was 21 days ago. Today is September 5, 2015 AD and I feel different than I did 21 days ago. I’ve experienced more ups, downs, and raw emotions defying categorization than I have experienced in the last six months. Tonight I’ve felt happy, sad, hopeful, renewed, exhausted and serene, often all at the same time. To describe the rest of this week’s emotions would require me to break open a thesaurus to begin the arduous process of transcribing them. Essentially, I think, my brain is simply reeling from the onslaught of narcotics that has plagued my neurotransmitters for years and whose death grip I feel free of for once tonight.
While I’ve been in this locked-down facility for the past 20 days, I can’t say that I’ve had a dull moment. Sometimes I feel like there’s no way I can deal with the clusterfuck in my head without the use of extremely strong drugs, but then, of course, that’s why they locked me up in here in the first place.
I must admit it’s an inexpressible relief today to be free from the burden of battling the practically insurmountable temptation to get high. Whatever feelings that I have to feel, I am grateful that I have them back. I’m grateful that I’m free of the Hamilton County Justice Center’s bleached, starched stripes tonight. I’m grateful to eat food that the FDA has approved for human consumption. I’m grateful to have friends to confide in, friends who are getting clean right alongside me. And probably, most importantly, I’m so very grateful to sit at a cafeteria table across from my mom, little brother, and father and look at them with clear eyes.
Today is a beautiful day.
3 thoughts on “Eli Writes!”
Oh man, that last line moved me to tears. xoxoxoxoxo
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Eli, thank you for expressing your experiences. I cannot imagine the challenges you face every moment. My 19-year-old passed away from a heroin overdose in June. I’m sure he never expected to actually pass. It has been hell for all those he left behind. I pray you find the strength to surrender to the process you’re in, and that you find strength and support to stay clean. It will mean the world to your family. You can read about the grief journey I’ve endured on my blog, “Thriver Soup.”
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Eli- Remember that clear eyed moment– hold on to it– talk to the nero transmitters– they will follow your direction– tell them you want a replay of that good moment– play it and love it– more of those are coming your way– Sending you good thoughts.. and love readi g your words and thoughts.. Bravo to you! every step bit by bit –it is YOUR journey and rehre are many around you who care as you move along.. Goodness..to you in the journey..Best wishes,e