Hey guys,
I'm sure many of you have met or known me by now, with all the noise I've made over the past few days :P
Just wanted to share something personal - it just turned June 10th in Thailand, where I'm currently at.
That means that I finally made it to 6 months clean! I've NEVER been able to stay clean for this long ever since I first started using.
I need to find an NA meeting out here and grab my 6-month chip. It's been a while since I've been to NA :[
Anyways...
I couldn't have made it this far without the support and love of my family, who were there for me always.
When I was in rehab, I thought I was gonna end up going out and being homeless again - no one wanted me in their house.
My sister told our mom that "he's family and he is staying here. and that's final".
So my sister basically made sure that I wouldn't be homeless after I got out of rehab.
I love her to death, even though she can be pretty mean sometimes - I know she's hurting inside because of some personal stuff. I still love her to death <3
My dad wanted me to go to a homeless shelter or salvation army, or as he famously says, "just figure it out".
My mom was pretty ambivalent about it...the last time I was home, I ended up disappearing on them.
I forged two checks worth about $750 total I think, went to their local bank and cashed them, then sold the MacBook Pro my mom had paid for upfront for me, but I still owed her about 800 on it. Ended up selling that laptop for 600, needed the money fast.
I bought a plane ticket to Vegas, one way. Told my buddy who drove me to the airport not to tell anyone, and that I was just going on "business" and would be back in a few days.
No, no. So far from the fucking reality of what was to come.
I partied my ass off at Aria (the casino/hotel that's DEAD center on the strip, they call it "City Center").
I got a 3-night free stay in a corner suite room because I used to be a massive gambler there - I was getting close to reaching their ultimate player's card. That's how bad I was gambling...or as I was telling myself, "counting cards isn't gambling".
Bullshit. Total bullshit. I was so damn good at lying to myself, and the world...
BUT
I'll save the card counting stories for another post...there are some juicy ones. ;)
--
I was doing coke, I was doing oxy's, I was binge drinking really bad, I was eating benzos like candy.
I don't remember most of it.
I do remember posting a picture on FB of my buddy and I eating sushi somewhere in Vegas - and my family saw it and were like wtf? Why is it so sunny? Where is he?
They thought I was staying at a friends house for 3-4 days and would return after. We lived in Buffalo, NY. It was February, so there was snow and typically darkness every day.
That's when their suspicions started.
Well, day 3 came. And I was ready to stick to my predetermined schedule.
I can't remember the date, but that night, I ate 49 oxycodone and 23 Lortab's and washed them down with a bottle of cough syrup.
I wanted to die. I was ready to die. I was miserable and hated everything I had become, that I had done...
I wrote a quick note in a journal and tossed it on the bed beside mine (2 beds in the room).
I drifted off into space....higher than I've ever been, completely numb, euphoric, elated, just melting into the bed.....
And then I woke up.
I was perfectly fine.
I was so fucking angry. Why didn't I die?@? WHY?!?!
So that day, I went nuts. I bought, even more, opiates to ensure my death later that evening. I gambled all my money away.
I drank so much that I was throwing up everywhere in my room and couldn't even stand.
I downed everything I had bought that evening (roughly 80 pills), all Lortab 10's. This would surely kill me, being mixed...I threw in an entire package of cough meds (DXM) and a bottle of syrup again.
Waiting, waiting, drifting, floating, completely elated and high enough to touch the clouds....
....And then I woke up again.
At that moment, when I got out of bed, I went and read my suicide note. It mentioned something about my life has no meaning or purpose and that was one of the reasons I deserved to die.
I realized that I did have a purpose. I did have a meaning. I was MEANT to live. I was not supposed to die in that hotel room. I was not supposed to shatter my families lives forever.
It was not my time to go.
For now, I'll cut this story here - but there's more to it.
Stay tuned for part 2.....
But, just for today, I'm okay.
Happy 6 months without heroin to me.
<3
-Panda, aka Fat Panda Design
