Have you ever worked out in the heat? Worked hard in the heat? Like, dug a ditch or carried lumber or something equivalent in July? Have you ever played a summer sport? Have you ever had sex in the backseat in August? Have you ever had to make weight for a sport and worn a trash bag on you over top of 2 hooded sweatshirts and ran for 2 hours?
I have.
And with things like that come an overwhelming thirst afterwards. I mean, a thirst where I feel like I could fall out or die if I don’t get something to drink. And finally, when I get my hands on something, anything, cold to drink and it hits my mouth, there is some kind of crazy “everything is going to be fine” feeling that comes immediately.
Imagine walking around with that thirst daily. 24 hours a day. 7 days a week.
It’s there with you. It’s there when it’s cold. It’s there when it’s hot. It’s there at work, it’s there at dinner with your family, it’s there at funerals and it’s there at weddings. It’s there when things are perfect and it’s there when you think the world would be better off without you.
That’s what it felt like. The word “obsession” doesn’t do it justice. The word “addiction” doesn’t even begin to spark the true feeling that comes along with it. It’s constant desperation and constant move making. It’s living and breathing for it. The thirst is unquenchable.
I was able to calm it down with a drink. I could forget about it for a moment with a few bong hits or crushing a pill and snorting it. I could escape it for a few hours with a needle full of heroin followed by multiple needles full of cocaine. But before I knew it, it returned.
Every fucking day.
I blew up my relationships for it. I shot out my credit. I failed and left jobs to chase it. I did things, terrible hurtful things… all to quench that thirst. I became someone I never wanted nor thought I could be. Someone that my family and friends often didn’t recognize. I would cut you. I would hospitalize you. I would leave you desperate. I wouldn’t explain anything to you. I would rob and steal from you, lie to you and then lie again. I would cheat on you. I would frame you. You mean nothing. You’re fucking nothing to me. You don’t know what the fuck it’s like. You think this is easy? You think I want this? Fuck you. In fact, this is your fault. This is ALL your fault.
The above paragraph is who I was, and you can believe me or not, but my heart started beating harder and faster as I wrote it and just re-read it. It’s been years since I was that person but it wouldn’t take years to become him again. It’s not fear that caused my heart to beat faster, it’s awareness of what I’m capable of if I go back. It’s awareness of who my sons could grow up to be if I am not around.
I couldn’t count how many times I laughed with them over the past few days. I spent a single dollar bill on them today. I bought Canaan a lemon with one of those candy cane sticks in it from a street vendor at a small Baltimore festival. That’s it. They mean absolutely everything to me. And if you know me, or you’ve seen me with them, you know that’s true. You know I’m not just saying these things. My actions align clearly with my words. I don’t allow excuses of why I can’t do this for them or why I can’t do that for them, no. I excuse myself from doing other things so I can be present for them. And I will admit, it’s not always what I want to do. Imagine that. Sometimes, I’d like to be able to cut my grass without getting a baby sitter. Sometimes I’d like to be able to get a hair cut. Sometimes I’d like to sleep in or hang out with friends. Sometimes I’d like to be able to do art during hours when the sun is shining. Sometimes I’d like to spend the night out.
But more important than all of that, is being there for them. I won’t allow myself to be that person I described above and it starts with something completely unrelated to drinking or doing drugs. That transformation, that regression might be fast or it might take some time, but it will come.
Today I know that only One Thing has and can prevent me from going back and He hasn’t failed me in the 4.5 years I’ve been chasing him. And even though that chase isn’t exactly the same as it was before, I’m still running.