A Calm Before the Storm


As I walk to a meeting tonight, I can’t help but think that this is what my life has become. Not one single thing defines me, but more like a cluster of things, and to which most I’m not proud of.

I wake up and go to work (if there is a job scheduled), and in the evening I work my other job (if I’m scheduled), or I sit in a chair that invisibly has my name written on it and listen to either how great or not so great a fellow addict is doing. The rest of the time I usually do nothing because I can’t afford to do anything. I’ve stopped going to the gym because I can’t afford it or I lack what most people have: a bank account, in which the gym can access and pull my money. I refrain from traveling the city of Boston looking for work because most weeks I can’t afford a transportation pass needed to ride the trains or buses. Because of these minor issues, which mend together as somewhat of a cluster, people’s conception of me turns sour and like a shotguns recoil, I agree.

Little things added together make something of a larger scale. Like the many baseball teams become the MLB or a handful of songs become an album, or because of my nearly homeless income becomes a false portrait of me today, addicts doing well can relapse due to this same scale.

Many people I know have died this month along with many more people I’ve never met but learned about, and the majority of their demise have something in common; they died from the first use in their relapse. Upon hearing their stories from others at meetings, people I live with, from social media, or from the funerals and wakes I have attended, it seems that by following each individuals problems or issues, events or lack-there-of, a cluster had been formed of mediocre catastrophes shaping into one giant one; resulting in their relapse which in return resulted in their death.

I strongly believe that through communication, networking, and humility, these people may as well be alive today. I only hope that we as addicts and the people who love us can start seeing the slow and sometimes fairly visible downward spiral that usually arises before the end. Like tremors to an earthquake, we become more aware and sometimes prepared for the apex of this disease.

My heart and prayers go out to everyone we have just lost from addiction and their families.

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.

6 thoughts on “A Calm Before the Storm”

  1. I’m sorry for your loss but thank you for calling its a constant reminder that I am an addict and one is to many and thousand is never enough. I had an amazing day today but I also have to remember I am an addict and if I relapse I may not be so lucky this time. I have had my share of close calls. Thanks for the reminder.

    Liked by 1 person

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