Don’t Fear the Reaper; Respect the Reaper


I am a drug addict. Although I don’t enjoy lots of drugs- benzos, cocaine, marijuana, ecstasy, uppers, and alcohol- doesn’t mean I don’t fit nice and snug in the category of an addict. There are many kinds of drug addicts. Some like to do all the drugs on the market while others have only battled addiction towards a single substance. I, myself, along with plenty of others sustain from every drug that is out there, although we know that we wouldn’t use them if we had to. This is because, a drug is a drug is a drug! If I have a binge eating disorder and I have lived a life of consuming chocolate cake all day-everyday to the point that I have developed diabetes or became extremely unhealthy, this does not mean that as long as I stay away from the cake that I will do just fine. Substituting candy bars for cake will not do a single thing for my diabetes or weight problems. It goes the same with drugs.

Before I got sober this time around, I was injecting heroin into my veins and inhaling crack into my lungs on a day to day basis. I had not smoked weed for maybe 6 or 7 years and although crack is a form of cocaine, I preferred smoking over snorting or shooting it. I had not taken ecstasy since high school or any benzos since The evening I took one too many Xanax and wound up pulling a steak knife out on 4 police officers at my parents house and threatening I’d gut them like a fish. I do, in fact, love crystal meth but my connections to the gay underground world disappeared when a good friend of mine committed suicide due to drug psychosis. But heroin and crack… Now that’s my cup of tea!

I do not fear drugs. I respect them. Although I’ve had dozens and dozens of friends die from the disease of addiction (myself included) I still don’t find them scary. And though I was never raised to respect anything so bad or negative, I’ve come to realize that if I don’t look at my disease the way I do now, then I have a better chance of slipping up and traveling down this destructive path again. One of my many character defects is I’m stubborn. Millions if not billions of people are stubborn in this world but mixing addiction and a stubborn attitude has never quite worked for me or others. A personal defensive mechanism I have is when I’m scared of something, or in this case fear something, I tend to not take it serious enough and sometimes even laugh it off as it was just a joke, which I found isn’t the smartest way to go about addiction. Meanwhile, if I respect something- like if I respected a person- then I make sure to notice what it is I respect, learn from this person or what not, and take for granted the experiences I have with it. I respect drugs and I respect alcohol. I know what it can do to me and I know all to well what it can do to others. I keep it more then an arms length away but never further then where I can see it because, as of right now in my recovery, I need to know that if I let up or become complacent for only 1 second that it could be the beginning of the end for me and for everyone who loves and cares about me.

Author: Jake Mitchell

Writing nonfictional & brutally honest experiences, stories, & events, from my life; both before, during, and following my intense destruction of myself and the people who were around me. All because I lived a life of lies, manipulation, and self-imprisonment, just a few of the many truths when you're an Active Addict. Although I'm very blunt, I tend to (or at least try to) write as humble, selfless, & full of gratitude, while sharing some of the tragedies and situations which most likely occured due to my addiction and the way I exsisted during that time of my life, as I only cared about and fiened for my next high or score. Please comment on any material I post. Although I'm quite ashamed and embarrassed for most of the actions, decisions, and outcomes, that happened during my torturous years of Active Addiction, I don't regret any of it. Now, by writing about these true stories and events, I'm hopeful another addict can relate to my pain, distress, and the Hell of using drugs. This HELL, becomes therapeutic and important for my recovery, reminding me that I am not the o my person who has ever done or thought these things. And through relating, I may be able to help another addict.

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