Great fkn question fr. Deserves a good a swer so I’ll try.

OK so on the tail end of my run I was stacking benzos on tip to fight my bleak utter nothing of a life. I kept a slip knot tied in my top drawer, knowing id never use it, just to remind me how much I apparently loove suffering.

I’ve always been an extremely spiritual being. Not religious. Just whole. Or I thought I was. But the things I knew and understood, I never put them into practice. I was using.

That whole time I was training myself to deal with trauma, adversity this that the third, so but the time I got clean I had a whole entire blue print for how to live.

It was literally a light switch going on.

I remember the day quite vividly. I was in jail on mail intake, it was a coupke weeks in, i was through the worst. A little skin crawly but No seizures. Nothing. I made a cup of Ramen noodles and tuna pouch with this older gangbanger turned family man from PR who threw in some cool ranch doritos, and a homeless kid who presented himself as literally Jesus christ.

I swear I never had so much fun in my life as I did in jail.

I realized long ago that happiness is a choice. It’s just a perspective. You have to want to be happy. To cultivate that. Cause life only means what you want it to, and our brains are pliable. You can rewire your brain. Those old dead power lines will always be there, but you can run new ones.

The brain and life itself are really quite remarkable. That is my perspective now. I’m just being.

That means a lot to me fr.

For how I started read the post after yours (:

My rock bottom? Hell there’s no such thing. The bottom just keeps moving. Eviction? No electricity? Starving? Nope I found a way. Multiple arrests and charges? Nope. No money? I sold lots of my precious music gear. Nope. Sold my SOs great aunts wedding rings from the 20s was pretty bad…but:

This is my most “wtf am I doing” moment. And I’d consider it rock bottom. It’s not crazy, but it’s something I’m super ashamed about and would never do if not for drugs. Stealing. I got fired from my job because I was taking tools and pawning them, then returning them when I could get them out. …

Well one day a coworker just happened to be in this run down little pawn shop. He caught me. He didn’t tell on me until a week later, I suffered like raskalinov that entire time about my guilt and getting found out. I was a mess.

My job was awesome too with awesome people. They were gonna put me through rehab! But I just walked out before my boss even got to the job to talk to me and haven’t talked any of them since, all driven by shame and embarrassment.

In the end, it wasn’t enough. I used for another 6 or 7 years. It took me doing jail time. Something light, only 90 days. But that was simultaneously the worst and best thing that ever happened to me. I made the best of jail, laughed a LOT, lived in raw human sewage for a week with no running water, ate shitty food and talked to some shitty and some cool af people. Never looked back. I know that if fuck up even a little bit, I’m going right back. I’m not on parole anymore but I’m in the system. Everytime I get pulled over I get searched, cuffed, and put in the squad car. I have to be air tight. Especially where I live.

Kind of a long story, but in a nutshell…my family fell apart. We went from somewhat normal family in insane amount of debt and struggling to : My mom blew the fam up over money and lack of emotional intelligence on both my parents parts, she started dating my fkn uncle on my dad’s side which was fkn traumatic all around. My dad was living out of a damn jeep wrangler. My sister was pregnant. I had a back injury from work, and it just so happens that my bandmate was an addict and we lived in the city w the biggest open air market and drug culture on the east coast.

Perfect storm. After a certain point it was all me and my empty excuses/justifications.

Little foot (:

After about a year I wanted to stop, but couldn’t. I fell into a cycle of needing to work to survive and needing to use to work, a never ending justification of my use.

What got me clean was a chance to get clean. I got locked up for 3 months in county, and court ordered 28 day rehab.

That’s all I needed. I been there done that. You couldn’t pay me to do it again.

It changed my entire being. It disconnecting me from everything, emotions, people, and mostly myself. Today I am more mindful. I have gained some much needed emotional intelligence, and most of all I gained some perspective. I’m still putting my life back together, but I’m just really appreciative that I get to experience anything at all, any emotion, anything. Anything past dead is gravy for me. I wouldn’t trade my shitty experience for the world.

The fentanyl crisis is a natural evolution. Stronger cheaper easier to manufacture. I think it’s mostly a cause of a broken education and criminal justice system. Prohibition never worked. Give the people something safe to use, offer them treatment. They’re gonna do it anyway.

The scariest thing that came along with fentanyl is the vet tranquilizer that they cut it with. Since fent does not last as long and is not as euphoric, the tranquilizer is added to make it last longer and feel heavier. It causes all types of issues in your body. Swollen limbs, sleep standing, nodding out on limbs can cause permanent nerve damage. It’s just super dangerous all around.

Look, I could only use fentanyl after a certain point. Heroin wouldn’t even get me well. I’ve always practiced pretty good harm reduction tactics, but by the time I made the transition to fentanyl, it was nearly impossible for me to OD. I actually never ODed by common definition. Always kept intra muscular AND intranasal Naloxone on hand. New syringe everytime (usually eek).

But yea it was a constant worry. I would do “allergy tests” before main dose. I guess I got lucky.

Most people OD after they get clean. Out of jail/rehab etc, but I NEVER got clean besides for that last time. I knew coming out if I fucked around, I’d def find out with the stuff on the street today.