An unrealistic recovery, part 1: Coming to terms with the jerkass that I was. — Steemit

An unrealistic recovery, part 1: Coming to terms with the jerkass that I was.

in introduceyourself •  2 years ago

(II and III here
I've spoken already about drugs and my propensity for doing them, followed by incredibly impulsive acts. I've briefly discussed how I moved into a strangers house to get sober, and I've danced around some of the anecdotes of my time there.

It's time to recall the whole gory affair, starting with first meeting my future sponsor and ending with me leaving his house for good. This is part I, and I've tentatively decided to tell the whole tale in 3.

I was a month off of 20 and had been hallucinating for approximately 2 days or so. I had procured some 2-CE and went to town on it; whereas most people would carefully measure and schedule their doses, I repeatedly took knife hits whenever I felt like it in addition to mixing it with MDMA and amphetamines. I was in quite a state.
The drug in question.

Nearing the end of my 4th peak or so, I phoned my old acquaintance to see if he could come get me and take me home. He obliged, on the condition that we stopped by his friend Fred's house; it transpired that Taylor would soon move in with him and he needed to discuss something. What that something was, I don't recall, because I got into a drug fueled argument over several topics with Fred, and that took up all the powers of memory I had that night (at one point, in order to seem like I knew something he didn't, I fraudulently made the claim that 300000 children die a night in Texas alone. Yeah.) I think Fred enjoyed it, because he could tell I was intoxicated heavily and he really enjoyed messing with addicts.

He asked me if I'd like to stay the night and talk more. I said yes. I had been hoping to get away from my mothers house for over a year, so I jumped at the opportunity; part of me knew, even in my drug haze, that I wasn't going to leave his house for a while.

The next couple of days are actually a fog to me. It wasn't the drugs, it's just that nothing consequential happened in that time. The third day was when the bomb was dropped; Fred asked me if I really wanted to be sober, and I said yes. He offered me his couch indefinitely. I took it.

A month goes by, Taylor and his girlfriend move in with us, and I assume everything is going well; I had gone to AA, chosen Fred as my sponsor, and done my step work. I also had a little rivalry with Katie, Taylor's girlfriend, and this set the stage for the next big bombshell; me and her had had some stupid argument which had left me feeling quite low. I talk to Fred, expecting some words of comfort. What I got was:

"You're very childish, you're very attention seeking; you act like you're 16 most of the time. Everything is a competition to you, and you constantly have to make sure you sound like the smartest person in the room. It's the reason I don't like talking to you very much; you could be doing rather well and probably have a lot of friends but your personality is so grating that nobody want's to be around you. Grow up. Stop it."


Completely deflated, I just sat there, long after he left, thinking about what he said. My initial thoughts leaned towards denial and defenses: "He's just intimidated" or "No I just am smarter than everyone" or "Maybe I do act like that, but so what? I've got every right to with how the world has treated me!" Typical self-obsessed denial, nothing special.

As much as I hated it, I had to admit he was right. The problem with growing up isolated from your peers is that you have no real reference for how normal people act; the closest thing I had to a reference was T.V. and movies. I was a walking fictional character, with exaggerated affect, interactions, and mannerisms. Part of me had always known this, I think, but hearing it from another person made me realize just how bad I had become.

I could probably have kept on justifying that behavior to myself, but being at least slightly clever I knew that the world wouldn't care why I was such a cunt, but rather just that I was a cunt. I had finally started to come to terms with the fact that sobriety and recovery weren't just about abstaining from substances, but about completely shifting your character from selfish to selfless.

Time goes on and I try and watch my attitude and behavior; I remember how whenever I would get into an argument with someone, I would think to myself "they wont relapse and ruin their life over an argument. I might." This would usually help me swallow my pride, apologize, and move on. Part II coming soon.

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There aren't a lot of people with the guts to share what you did here. Thanks for coming aboard. Looking forward to part II.


Thank you :) I'm hoping I don't over-saturate with my stuff; I've written almost exclusively about my "adventures" over the last ten years. Most of them have similar themes :o

Damn. Knife hits of 2C-E... crap. What a body load.


For what it's worth, I think the only reason that I didn't just lose it was because I had MDMA and meth somewhat keeping me alert and able to process things.

What are the visuals like at such ungodly doses of 2CE?


Almost entirely closed eye. It was as if I couldn't close my eyes for fear of being held hostage by my imagination; I would give in just for a second and it would turn out that it had been an hour since I last spoke or opened my eyes or did anything.

At lower doses it was fractals, at higher doses the hallucinations stopped having anything I would call meaning. Things melted alot.


Is the bodyload as bad as they say?


I actually never had any problems with that, but it could have been the E or meth.


Thank you!

stay iron.,,,habit is a combo of set & settings+state of mind...endure..walk on people, dont bother...i was blaming myself & only myself , later when sober, realised everybody is behaving the same way, just adding more finesse to it. people are shit. stay iron & endure,,it will all be gold after, just be carefull not to get od or infected with some shit...i survived 12 years heroin, he holds your entire soul with iron clenched fist...with stimulans is just the matter of thinking , boredom etc..
wish you luck, upvoted & following

editing after visiting your profile--- i back on that last statement,,,been on meth for approx 2 months, gone crazy,,,now i get you,,sorry for my harsh reply

Please continue this! It takes so much courage to share things that are this intimate and self reflective, I admire you baby. Hearing the stories in person is one thing, but you really do have a way with words that puts things into a very clear perspective. <3

Wow, this is some insight we are getting into human behaviour, it isn't just a normal blog post. What you are writing I never could, as much as I wished to. Thing is, you have to have a point of view that doesn't favour you or your actions, it has to be completely unbiased. I have yet to find such a perspective.

You are writing about something really significant in your life, and we here are blessed to be reading it. This is a journey I am sure going to follow, because I have had somewhat similar experiences.


Thank you! It's definitely possible that I'm biased in my reporting, but I also wonder if maybe my words dont come across as self mocking and damning as I mean them?


Isn't it better? They certainly do, as if you are self-deprecating yourself. But what I do love around here on Steem is a genuine atmosphere. It helps in understanding one's character, you see. I would rather you wrote this way rather than in a pseudo-optimistic way that has nothing to do with you now.


Thank you :) The second part is out now, and if I had to guess I'd say it was the most entertaining. I'm writing the third as we speak n hopefully itll be the most satisfying.

And yeah there wasn't anything really optimistic about young shota me

wow, this was a good story and well-written. I have zero clue what 2-CE is, but I can relate on some levels as far as doing really weird stuff while on drugs. Honestly though your story makes mine seem rather tame.

lol 2ce lol i used to order that shit to UCSC that and DOC 2ci, 4 aco mipt , used to order mimosa hostilis and san pedro dried powder and make my own dmt and mescaline on campus lol its been over 10 years now i could do a Vice documentary on it and how Cfunk was making DMT using gasoline in Germany and mailing it to me for $30 a gram id resell for $100 a gram friends sold it for $200 a gram ....I was Zackadelic !