The long dark nights in the hood. Alone. Cold. Dope sick. Broke. There is no accountability anymore. You have already deserted your life, so dying isn't a scary feeling. No eyes to look into of loved ones who hold out their most desperate prayer that you will magically change.
Jail is one of the single worst places I have lived. Weeks of my life in a room with other hopeless women. Everyone I met in jail felt hopeless, even on their best day. Not even the biggest smile could mask the pain in the sad eyes around me. The toughest fighter bled shame through her scowl. Yet somehow jail feels like an answer. I think it only means I won't have to make the choice. Relapse will not be an option while those walls stand high around me.
I read this earlier today from an anonymous poster on a blog:
being a heroin addict is UNFORGIVABLE, how stupid can these people be. This is something you never never try if you have any brains, and is therefor not a forgivable addiction. It just indicates you are a weak non thinking ass.
I can't help but feel pain when I read that statement. I think that the majority of people feel that way. Even the people who don't admit it, and who don't want to. I wish I could put into words this evening the pain I feel knowing that I am an addict. Knowing it's my own fault that I have been stuck in the opiate trap.
James 1 tells me to persevere and find joy in my trials. Quite honestly that has been my MO. Knowing that it is ALWAYS darkest before the dawn.
I will let that be my hope again this evening. Tomorrow I will deal with these feelings again. With a new day, and hopefully a new perspective.
