2014

The aftermath of the blizzard, booze, and crack left me shaken. I was now kicked out of the halfway house, and it was 20 degrees below zero. I didn’t even make it to my sentencing into drug court. I didn’t know what to do. I was incredibly hungover and spun from the two nights prior and now had my newest debacle to deal with. Homelessness, and possibly a warrant for my arrest. I called the agency that was to over see my drug court case, and spoke with my then would-be case manager. She told me what to do. Go see her, and we would go from there. I did, and she instructed me to take my things across town to the only other men’s halfway house. I moved in that day, catching a major break. I could have been sent straight to jail for violating my pre trial release. They had some mercy on me. I was sentenced into drug court on February 11, 2014 and had to go see the judge the same day. This would be interesting. I was given a stern talkin’ to and the rules were laid out clear as day for me. “Yes ma’am, no ma’am” thank you. I was not ready for this. No matter how slick, no matter how smart, and no matter how much I tried to convince myself other wise, I was not capable of completing this program. Why? Because I still had reservations of using. Spring started to bloom in Valparaiso, and I did a lot of walking to get around, and to sneak phone calls to people I shouldn’t have been talking to. Usually my old friend, but also to my dope dealers. Just keeping touch with them, “yeah man, I just gotta keep doin this drug court thing brother, and as soon as I get a chance im’a come see ya.” I didn’t even realize at the time just how insane and dangerous my behaviors, my thoughts, my attitudes, and my perspectives were to me. I thought I was just gonna stroll through life like this. I was so blind and delusional. Walking around with this compartmentalized obsession to use a drug that was constantly destroying my life and relationships. Welcome to the addict mind. This is addiction. I didn’t want to use, and I didn’t want to recover, so it was like keeping both lines open- half assing recovery, hoping something would stick, but also keeping my reservations and connections alive in case I needed to escape quickly or some shit. I was 2 people. I was not comfortable in my own skin or in my own mind. I didn’t use, for a while and I managed to graduate the halfway house, how? I have no idea, the director hated my guts and made it known, but I was able to stay on eggshells for the entire six months and completed the house on July 7th,2014. I moved out that same day. Into my own place. What a relief. The summer was pretty uneventful, I worked doing landscaping, and played golf on the weekends. I would have my friend over when I thought I could get away with it. I even enrolled in college again, because drug court made me. School has never been my thing. I always had a resentment against homework. But that’s another conversation. July turned to August and things were chugging along. One night, in early August, desire and opportunity collided and I used. Snorted some heroin on a Friday right after my drug court case management meeting. I had 72 hours to clean out, I would be fine. And I would have, if I had that built in whatever the hell it is that allows people to stop after using. But I didn’t and my dumb ass kept using right through the weekend. I was high, nodding and itching on Sunday night. “Eh, they’ll understand, I had a slip, I’ll just be”honest” with them. And they did understand. My punishment was writing a paper on my thinking at the time of my decision to use. This was but a slap on the wrist, compared to what was up ahead. On Sunday August 25, 2014 my entire world would be flipped upside down and there would be nothing I could do about it…

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