Emotions In Motion

6:30 am. As much as I abhor getting up early (I was actually up at 5 am), it is within these quiet moments, when everyone else is tucked away in bed silently dreaming, that I find myself. Unfortunately, I have this ability to shut off my feelings like a light switch. I used to think of it as a gift. Don't want to feel this? BAM! SHUT IT OFF. It really is a curse though; we are supposed to feel. After all, isn't that what being human is all about? Our emotions define not only us as individuals, but as a species. We are a unique army of ants in the sand hill that is our universe. However reversing my automatic shutdown switch is difficult at times, but I'm learning.

I've always had an extremely hard time with negative emotions; anger, frustration, sadness, disappointment. As a child, I'd escape within myself, to the farthest reaches of my imagination, being that "someone else" I wanted to be, instead of being me. In later years it was people-pleasing and chemicals. Anything I could do to take the focus off of who I was, was a relieving welcome. So, when my addictions surfaced at their very worst, that bomb of self-hatred exploded; the shrapnel piercing my skin like millions of tiny daggers, and I couldn't take it anymore.

I should probably explain what chemical addiction is like. In my case, it was heroin. It's like a long chain of dominoes - once you flick that first one, there's no stopping it until it reaches the end. And by end, that usually means one of three things: rehab, prison, or death. In the case of heroin, you are literally a rat on a wheel. The moment you wake up, the first thought is "How am I going to get my shit today?" Once that money is procured, the next thought is "Is my dealer awake yet?" Honestly, that's it. That's all you think about morning, noon and night. It is a vicious cycle of desperation and despair with only one goal: don't get dope sick - anything to avoid that.

Dope sickness: Your body's sick and twisted way of letting you know you are a hopeless slave. It is like having the flu but a hundred times worse. Sweating, chills, puking, shitting yourself, body aches that feel is if you're in rigor mortis, yawning, sneezing, chronic insomnia...and on and on. Countless times I would fantasize about sawing my own legs off to release myself from the pain, or pray (funny, the only time in eons I would ever pray) for death to come swiftly. It's not life threatening, but it is sheer agony. Ask any recovering heroin addict about detoxing and watch the corners of their mouths turn down in a grimace. Bottom line: it is Hell.

Desperation and Despair: When you know that this is not the person you really are, but still, you can't stop. You can't look at yourself in the mirror because deep down, all the pain and the things you've done, the lies you've told, and the people you've hurt will come staring back at you, through dark, soulless eyes. So to keep from driving yourself mad (and dope sickness being the other motivator), you press on and promise yourself you will quit tomorrow. But tomorrow always turns into next week, and next week turns into next month....

It is often these factors that finally bring you to your knees, broken and alone. Whoever hasn't left you has ceased to speak or associate with you. It is within these lonely hours that you can make even more bad choices. I've never attempted suicide in my life; which actually surprises me being that I loathed my own reflection all these years. But in the midst of my last relapse, hating myself and feeling like a complete nothing, I tried to take my own life. It was last year, I can't remember when, that one day I made the decision that everyone would be better off without me, and I could finally be free of this addiction. I mixed 30 bags of heroin into one shot and injected it, looking forward to finally ending the pain of living. It didn't work, obviously. My only thought? "Wow, I can't even do this right."

Of course, now with clarity, I am eternally thankful that I didn't succeed. How selfish of me to not even think of my family, my husband, and the most important of all, my son. I thought at the time that I would be doing my son a favor. Again, the addiction is extremely savage and is selfish in its own right. It doesn't care about you, or your loved ones, only about what IT wants. It would be happy to have victory over your meaningless existence. But IT didn't win - once again, I regained the upper hand.

So now, I allow myself to feel what I need to feel. That automatic switch is still there, but I try to be more aware of it's presence, and put mental duct tape on it so it can't be turned off. Again, it's not a simple task to reverse defense mechanisms. But I am trying...it's all I can do. I can't turn back the clock of my life, but I can reset its hands. Reversing low self-esteem, or lack thereof, is another heavy task, but I'm working on that too. Instead of avoiding the mirror, I can look into it now and say, "Hey, I kind of like you." And the reflection smiles back and winks.

~AJW 6/4/11~