I said in my last post that I probably wouldn't be blogging here anymore and just wanted to get stuff off my chest and explain things. And I did that. But I think I changed my mind about not blogging. Only because I actually like blogging. And even if no one reads it or everyone who came back to see the new place has left already, I still wanna write. It's in my blood. And it's what I do best. And after having talks with other Soulcasters and my therapist, it was pointed out to me that I have every right to blog here if I want and if it makes me happy, I should do it. No one has to read me if they really have a huge problem with me. So that makes sense. If people don't like me, then they can skip over me and ignore me. And if that means no one reads, then so be it, you know? Because I really want to write.

And what I'm choosing to write about today is something that is pretty painful and hard to write. But it also goes along with my other post about explanations. I was fighting more than one demon in my life while I was blogging here. And for a long time after I stopped blogging here. But that demon is addiction. It's not something I'm proud of, nor do I feel it excuses my behavior (and not just here, but everywhere in my life) but it does paint a picture of what my life was like. The hell I created for myself. When I first signed up to this place I was doing a lot of prescription drugs. I didn't really think it was a problem at first, but it quickly spiraled out of control and I was doing really stupid things just to get my fix of drugs. The dumbest thing I did was drink an entire bottle of narcotic cough syrup that I found in my bathroom that was at least 7 years old. I ended up in the hospital due to the stomach problems drinking that garbage gave me. It ulcerated my colon. Yucky stuff, huh? Some of you might remember me writing about my trips to the hospital with a stomach ailment, I just never told anyone (even my family) WHY I was so sick. Or why I was going through withdrawals. Or why the narcotics at the hospital got rid of my shakes and nausea.

I was a full blown hydrocodone junkie. I lived and breathed for the drugs. I had an online friend that I knew from here who actually helped me kick that addiction. For that I'm forever thankful. But they were really the only person who knew about it. It wasn't something I told anyone in my real life. I dealt with it alone. And no one ever found out. By some miracle, I was able to wean myself off and get clean of the drugs. But my victory was short lived because I started drinking instead. That was easier to come by and more socially acceptable, so I dove headfirst into being a drinker when I never really drank before. Maybe one or two drinks a year was my limit. And soon I was drunk before lunch time every day.

I went up and down and back and forth and the alcohol addiction had its really low moments (waking up and drinking before breakfast) and some better times (only drinking after 6pm at night). But either way, i was drinking every single day and to an excessive amount. I routinely forgot what I had done the night before. Who I talked to or what I might have said. I had no idea. I was falling down drunk every night. I hurt myself a few times. Broke some items in my house with no memory of what happened. I'd wake up in the morning and still be drunk from the night before.

This addiction was a symptom of my bigger addiction which was to the internet and this website and the people I knew here. My addiction to the lies and the life I created here was probably the worst addiction I had. And to cover up the pain of that addiction, I drank. This online world was literally ALL I had. I pushed away my family and any friends I may have had, and I focused everything on this little world. Becoming this world. And in order to live with myself, I drank. And in order to cover my pain over what I was doing, I drank. And then I just drank because I couldn't stop.

I punished myself over and over each night for the lies and for the pain I was causing and I got to the point where I really didn't care if I lived or died. I was kind of hoping for death because then the lies and the pain would end and I'd be free. No more addictions. No more indulging in unhealthy things just to exist. For a time, I honestly didn't know of any other way out of the pain unless I did die. I prayed for it many times. Anything to get me out of the hell I was living. That I created myself. Falling the bottom of a bottle was no life at all. And living a fake life on the internet was certainly no life at all. I felt like I had nothing at all to live for.

I lived that way for far too long. Even after my online lies ended, I kept drinking. Because then I had to cover the pain from the fallout of my actions and to hide how terrible I felt about myself. Drinking numbed the dull ache and the embarrassment and the horrendous pain I felt knowing that I screwed up so much and lost so many people. Some of them very, very dear to me. One of them so dear to me, I'd say they were my only reason for getting out of bed in the morning. And I had wronged them SO badly how could I face myself or worse yet, them? So I kept drinking.

It wasn't until last June that I finally had enough. I clawed my way out of the bottle and I sobered up and I never looked back. I couldn't look back. I had to keep looking forward. It was this time I got on medication for my illness and I actually felt like a person again. A real live person instead of just an empty shell. I'd been in therapy much longer than that, but even with the therapy, I refused medication or to quit drinking until last June. I don't know why I finally changed. It was just an epiphany I had. The realization that I WAS in fact dying. Slowly, but surely, I was killing myself and if I didn't stop, I'd get my wish and be dead within a year maybe. That was the cold hard fact. I was dying. And no one even knew. I hid my drinking so well that no one had a clue how bad it was. Not even close. Only I knew. But I woke up one day and I thought to myself that I was almost 37 years old (it was right before my bday) and I was not going to live to see 38 if I didn't shape up and get a hold of myself. It woke me up.

And here I am now. I've been sober since June and I've been on my meds since June as well. It's like a whole new life opened up for me. Now, I can't say it's been a particularly kind or good life to me, but it's mine. I've had to deal with a lot of painful things. Losing friends, death of a loved one, my job being in peril, my stepfather going to jail for beating me up, etc. My life has been shit-tastic honestly. But the key word there is HONESTLY. I'm living my life honestly without any lies to anyone anymore. Because you guys here were not the only ones I lied to. I lied to everyone about everything, just so I could keep my addictions going and keep it all a secret and so I could self destruct in peace. But not anymore. This is part of my healing process. And writing is so cathartic for me that I just can't not do it.

This story is one that very few people know. Very few. But I'm telling it here because maybe it can help someone else not feel so alone if they've ever been through something like this. Addictions come in many forms. Drinking, drugs, internet, porn, sex, you name it. People can get addicted to it if it feels good enough and you stop caring enough about your life and who you are. But I'm here to say that it does get better. If you want it bad enough, it gets better. You can get better. And maybe you'll lose some friends along the way, but maybe you'll gain a few new ones too. You can't be afraid of what you'll lose when most of what you had was nothing to begin with. You can only place your faith in a higher power that at the end of it all, someone will still be standing next to you....