early recovery from smoking

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Recovered From Crystal Meth | Recovered From A Hack | A New Design For Living and Blogging

July 8, 2010 in early recovery from smoking, Living in Recovery, relationships, Resentment by Chris | 5 comments

Got Hacked ButtonI guess one way to get a site redesign done is to get motivated by being hacked.  There are still things I’d like to change but I think I’m on the right track; and I really like the header photo.  God bless those stock photo agencies.

In the old days I would have just gotten mad and deleted the whole thing.  Or dicked around with it until it was dead.  It must say something about recovery if I find that I am able to look at the problem, work on a solution, and then execute the solution.  A design for living that works in tough going, right?

It hasn’t hurt either that I’ve been stuck in bed for a couple of days with an ear infection.  The antibiotics are kicking in and I’m beginning to feel much better.  The other health problem I am addressing, or readdressing, is the whole smoking thing.  I was actually off cigarettes again when I started dating that freak, who said he didn’t smoke, but did, and I’m afraid that I started smoking again.  Every time I fail at quitting, trying again gets a little bit harder.

This time I’m trying Chantix.  I’ve used a lot of outside help with my recovery from crystal meth addiction, so why shouldn’t I do the same with smoking?  I’m 1270 days off methamphetamines.  Hopefully I can get that last monkey off my back.

I’m still not willing to give up on the idea of a relationship, regardless of the reaming I received at the hands of my probation officer because she elected to believe a pack of lies she heard from a sociopath.  (At the end of the lecture I asked her, knowing what she knows about addiction, who she really believed; someone who was sober or someone with a pending DUI.  Of course she demanded a UA – which I passed.)

Back to the holding out for love.  Maybe it will happen.  Maybe it won’t.  But I’m not going to let this experience poison me on the idea.  And I’m not going to get high over it.

Dumb Reason to Stop

May 23, 2009 in early recovery from smoking by Chris | 4 comments

I’ve gone on here this long – why quit now.  I’ve changed my mind.  I do have somewhere anonymous to write now but . . . .  this place still has meaning to me.

Wishing I Was Dead

At 40 days off cigarettes my back and ribs hurt me so much that I couldn’t move and for some reason I decided that I needed to see a chiropractor.  So I went to see one, had an exam, took a ton of x-rays, got an adjustment and was told to ice my ribs and come back the following Monday.

Well, that night I couldn’t get out of a chair I sat down in.  I tried to lie on the floor thinking it might help and instead it made things worse.  I called my mom and asked if she had anything really good for pain and I made it through the weekend with Norco and Valium.  Monday my sponsor took me to a real MD – and a few x-rays later he shot me up with antibiotics, wrote a scrip for others, along with another scrip for Norco, and sent me across the street to a radiology lab where I had a CT scan on my 40 day smoke free lungs.

It was too late in the day to get the darn thing read so I had to return the following morning for the results.  When I did I was given clear instructions that they were waiting for me in Admitting at St. Lukes Regional Medical Center.

At the very least I had pneumonia – and they presumed PCP.  Oddly I’m still HIV-.   I assumed they would wheel me into a room and throw a gown on me and an IV and I’d be done in a few days.  Instead, the next thing I remember I was in recovery from surgery and had tubes sticking out of my side along with some sort of pump that was keeping my lung inflated.  I don’t remember being in any pain as I was attached to a bottle of morphine.

The fluid wasn’t coming out fast enough I suppose, because after 2 days of that I signed something and woke up several hours later in ICU with a 14″ incision across my back and bruising across most of my ribs, front and back, and the information that parts of me had to be removed. I want to sue that fucking chiropractor who looked at chest x-rays of me from 3 days before and didn’t send me to a real doctor.

I am out of the hospital now for several days but I am in so much pain that I can hardly describe it to you.  I’ve also gotten the first hospital bill – not the surgoen or anything else mind you – and it looks like  the hospital stay alone was over $23.000 – and I feel like I want to die.

This doesn’t seem right.

I son’t be able to even drive – like to go to work – for at least 2 more weeks according to the orders.  I live paycheck to paycheck (mostly) and I haven’t had one in 3 weeks now and have had to rely on family and friends for groceries and telephone service . . . .

I’m trying to remind myself that “this too shall pass”.  At the moment though, honestly, I wish I would have died.  The longer ago the better.

Accountability

April 7, 2009 in early recovery from smoking, Resentment, Roommates, Sponsorship by Chris | 4 comments

I suppose I could place some of the blame on the fact that I hadn’t had any nicotine.  This is day 18 without cigarettes.  At 3PM I still hadn’t had a lozenge.  It was not model behavior either, but nothing else was breaking in.  So when the dog crap had sat on the dining room floor since at least 7:30AM, when I got up, and the dog owner had made no attempt to remedy the problem, I grabbed a paper towel and threw the shit in his bedroom at him.

He silently got up and cleaned the crap up and retired to his room. (Time for a lozenge, I thought.  Clearly I’m not my charming self.)

I also had my monthly visit with my probation officer today.  I knew she had stopped by the house while I was at the vet last Sunday because Joe told me.  What he told me was that she had asked him if he was on drugs.  So when I went to visit Officer. J. B. today the first thing she said to me was, “So, I met your roommate.”  This woman has the authority to place me in jail for as long as a year without even taking me in front of a judge.  There is no way I am going to lie to or withhold information from her, particularly to save someone else’s skin.   After I told her exactly what has been going on, she asked me why I hadn’t called Joe’s probation officer.  I don’t really have a good answer for that, except that I had hoped that Joe would do the right thing and handle it himself.  I told her that keeping my street clean meant for sure telling her what is going on in my house.  What she chooses to do with that is not my responsibility.  I am accountable to her.

She said she was accountable, too, and that the law requires her to call Joe’s probation officer, which she did, while I was still sitting there.

She was very clear with me about what kind of people could be at my house and what kind of behavior she expects from me.  She was very clear about what kind of environment I am to be in, whether it is in my control or not.   I am not willing to go to jail because someone else won’t behave the way he agreed to behave and I will not live with dog shit on the floor because someone else won’t behave the way he agreed to behave.

I feel stupid for having moved.  And really, how arrogant am I to think that being around me could be a good influence on anyone?

Of course after I threw the dog shit I called my sponsor and had quite a chat.  I started by telling him what I’d done.  (He replied, “Good.”)  And after the probation office visit I called, as he suggested I do, and told him what was up.

It’s clear I’ve been an asshole, but I don’t believe, and my sponsor doesn’t believe, I’ve harmed anyone.  Rather I’m the one being harmed, and I placed myself in this position.

It’s time to figure out how to place myself out of it.

Smoke Free Day 16 and Other Matters of Living in Recovery

April 5, 2009 in Courage, early recovery from smoking, Resentment, Roommates, Service, Sponsorship, Willingness by Chris | 6 comments

I’ve been having this internal argument about smoking cessation with nicotine replacement therapy.  Namely, in quitting smoking I’m really quitting 2 different addictions; smoking addiction and nicotine addiction. I have picked up a cigarette only twice in the last 16 days, and that has been made rather easy by the fact that my nicotine addiction is still being fed by other means (Commit Lozenges).

The thing about NRT (nicotine replacement therapy) is that when the nicotine starts to wear off, my brain reads that feeling as a que to light up.  Since I haven’t been picking up cigarettes I’ve wondered if it wouldn’t be smarter to stop the NRT as well.  I know the physical withdrawal from nicotine is less than a week long.  Why not just be done with all of it.  I’m not that afraid of the discomfort at this point.

People who know better, people who study this sort of thing, though, all seem to agree that the key is to use NRT in high enough doses for long enough to achieve the best chance of success at giving up both. When people who knew something about getting off of drugs suggested how I might solve the problem I had the same battle.  There were some people who I believed in and some people who I didn’t.  Ultimately I had to be true to myself and embrace the path that spoke to my heart.  For now I’m going to continue doing what is supported by science, even though I have different ideas.

I’m less clear about other things.  I’m less clear about what to do with Joe, who is still not leaving his room unless he absolutely has to.  There is a slew of things I am frustrated or angry about, starting with his lack of participation in his own life and his failure to care for his dog.  Jake and I both got to clean up uriine yesterday because Pepper would rather pee in our bathrooms than let us know she needs to go out, and Joe can’t be counted on to make sure she’s going out.

Joe is still unwilling to be honest with those who are best equipped to help him, including his doctor and probation officer.  I believe he has convinced himself he is sick.  I don’t know that a 4 day relapse takes three weeks and counting to recover from.  Even if I add the flu that I had on top of it he is long overdue to be getting up and doing something.

The other day ne needed a ride to see his probation officer and he appeared to still be ill.  He asked if I would give him a ride and I agreed.  I took 3 hours off work so I could do that.  I drove him the 15 or so round-trip miles.  As we were pulling in to the parking lot he uttered the first words I’d heard him say that day.  “This is going to suck.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “This is going to suck.”  I though he meant it would suck because he was going to be honest with her.  When he came out of the probation office, he asked if I was going to work on Monday because he forgot to bring his money to pay her.

I asked him how it went when he told her what was going on, and he told me he didn’t; that he had no intention of doing that.

He hasn’t thanked me for spending billable hours to help him and he hasn’t been honest, and he complained that this meeting was going to suck because he doesn’t enjoy going to see this authority figure that he placed himself in the position of having to go see.  So I told him that I wasn’t available on Monday, that until he started being honest with his doctor and his P. O. and until he learned a little bit of gratitude that I didn’t think there was much hope that his life was ever going to be different.  I reminded him that when I got sober I had all the same obligations that he had, except that for a short time I didn’t even have a roof over my head or transportation, that it was December, and I had managed to get to where I needed to be by walking.  In the snow.

I am not going to ask him anymore if he needs anything.  In the last week I’ve spent $15 of my cash, $60 in my time off work, 20 miles or so on my car, “helping” him and on balance I don’t feel like I’ve helped him at all.  I feel like all I’ve done is allowed him to keep dong what he’s doing.  And now I’m resentful because for all those things I’ve given, I haven’t even been granted a simple “thank you.”  All I have gotten is the chance to clean dog piss off my bathroom floor twice.

If I could wake him up at 6 in the morning and lock him out of the house, and not let him back in till 6 PM I would do it.  I know the program tells me I need to love and help other addicts, but I don’t believe anything I’ve done has helped him.  I feel like I’ve been a door mat.

My sponsor is back from San Diego and I haven’t seen him since before I put Gracie down.  I’ve got some stuff to go over with him and I’m really looking forward to it.

Time takes time . . .

April 1, 2009 in Early Recovery From Crystal Meth Addiction, early recovery from smoking, Perseverance by Chris | 9 comments

Probably one of the most important things I learned in early recovery; time takes time.  I was always looking for and expecting to see big changes, and I wouldn’t see any change or sometimes only little ones.  My sponsor would tell me that time takes time.

There is no balm for grief like time.  Even a little time has helped; a little time and beiing a little bit nice to myself.  I wore a shirt with french cuffs today, because I like cuff links.  Men in cuff links make me forget my name. (William Finn’s line.  Not mine.)  I checked QuitNet a bunch of times over the last couple of days to watch the money I’m saving by not smoking add up and watch days be added to my life expectancy.  I even figured out how many hours of life I’ve already gotten to experience by multiplying 5 minutes by the number of cigarettes I haven’t smoked.  Twenty-five hours.  I’ve lived twenty-five hours of my life instead of smoking them.

So I’ve gotten to be more present in my present, even if it’s been sad.  And time is helping.

I remember several occasions when I had significant loss while I was still using crystal meth.  Those feelings of grief never went away; they never resolved till I got sober.  Sure, I could push the pain away while I was high with varying degrees of success, but I never came out the other side.  The grief was always frozen in place, waiting to be reactivated.

It’s easy to think that drinking or using, or even smoking for that matter, would help me cope, but it never helped me cope.  It just kept me frozen in time.

I’m grateful today to be sober, and clean, and smoke free and I’m grateful that time heals.

Perverse Irony

March 30, 2009 in early recovery from smoking, Ephemera by Chris | 2 comments

c.a. Marks is right about needing to take some time.  I think I’d vote for a day or two or three, though.  I wish it was later in the year and I could go up to the lake.  I haven’t been there in a couple of years.  It’s a nice place to decompress.

I realize that none of the things that have been going on in or around my life recently have anything to do with me, really, but they have affected me.  Getting the flu had nothing to do with me, though it affected me.  Joe relapsing had nothing to do with me, though it affected me.  Even Gracie getting sick had nothing to do with me, though it broke my heart.

I don’t think I’ve had to endure three things like that in a row in the last two years.  I just.  Gosh, you know?  I miss my happy little rut.

The only thing in all of this that had anything to do with me is the smoking thing.  I chose to stop smoking.  I had a cigarette today and I think it was out of spite as much as anything.  Two cigarettes in ten days is really not the end of the world and it is no reason to give up on giving up smoking.

Here’s what I was mad about.

I quit smoking and saved all this money.  Nine days of not smoking put about $50 extra dollars in my pocket.

Basically exactly how much it cost me to euthanize my cat.

That’s fucked up.

Let me show you how small I am.

March 28, 2009 in early recovery from smoking by Chris | 5 comments

I am furious, and I am passive aggressive and I have a hard time asking for what I need.  I am so much like my mother you can’t believe it.

Discomfort is the que to grow, right?  So when I become so uncomfortable that I’m running around slamming doors, chances are I am in the midst of an opportunity to grow,

Slamming  doors.  That’s pretty grown up, huh?  After 4 days of non-movement on the part of the sofa occupant who is, well, who knows what he is.  I think he has the flu, like I did.  He finally moved into his room this morning after I forwarded him a text message from Jake (more passive agressive behavior) asking how much longer we had to tollerate him being camped on the sofa and not being able to use the house ourselves.

Even with 4 days on the sofa though, I didn’t start slamming doors till his dog charged in to my room, ate all the cat food and then ran into my bathroom to relieve himself on the floor.  I love cleaning up dog piss.  (Hey, sarcasm.  Passive aggressive disguised as wit.  Ugh.)

I just this second realized that I haven’t had a single Commit lozenge today.  That may have something to do with this outburst of mine.  Nikki told me that every time she cut a piece of Nicorette out she’d lose her temper at least once.

But really, I have got to grow up and start expressing my expectations and needs like a grown up, rather than resenting people for not just automatically meeting my expectations.  (How dare he try to make me grow?  Haven’t I got enough to do?)

Yes.  I have a call in to my sponsor.

Day 5 – Again. Can you believe there are 3 posts titled Day 5?

March 24, 2009 in Acceptance, Brotherly Love, early recovery from smoking, Integrity by Chris | 4 comments

Well this is my 5th day without smoking cigarettes and it is getting a little easier to navigate.  The cravings that do appear seem to come out of nowhere, but are related to events; finishing a meal, walking out of a meeting, getting out of bed – that sort of thing.  The only place that is a little bit difficult is at work.  Everyone where I work smokes.  We smoke a cigarette and plan the day.  We smoke a cigarette and stratagize.  We smoke a cigarette and train.

I’m still coughing, but I can breath like I don’t remember being able to breathe, and when I cough it feels like a little more space opens up in my lungs.  I have noticed a huge change in my sinuses.  It seems like blood clots and petrified mucus are working their way out of my head.  I am able to breathe naturally through my nose with ease and that is really neat.

The smell of cigarettes is virtually gone from my car and from my clothes and my briefcase.  Can you believe my briefcase smelled like cigarettes?  I no longer go to AA meetings where people smoke and I’m happy about that.

The biggest change is that when I got home Joe was home, wrapped in a blanket on the sofa, with a big stock pot beside his head.

I acted all non-chalant.  “Oh, hey.”

“Hey,” he mumbled in reply.

I went to the kitchen to make some dinner.  Paula, Joe’s mom, stopped by and we had a long, long talk.  She clearly has advanced Al-Anon skills.  I’ve got some writing to do about my own anger, but I don’t feel any sense of obligation to try and rescue him at all.

He’s in the living room watching cop shows, and I have no interest in that, so I’m in my room with my darling cat (who I think isn’t feeling well) and thinking I’ll take a bath here in a minute.  I know he thinks that I’m supposed to entertain him.  He’s said as much.  Too bad.

I also don’t feel like I have any obligation to invite him to or drive him to meetings.  He knows where they are.  He has a bicycle.  I won’t assume any responsibility for his recovery.  No one did that for me.

If he should ASK for help – that would be another story.

I’m glad he’s back.  But if he’s going to be like he’s been then he needs to figure something else out. Our other roommate, Jake, agrees.  His mother agrees.  His ‘failure to launch’ in every area of his life is entirely a product of himself.  Daddy don’t play that.  Daddy’s done.  If he refuses to start acting like a grown up he can find somewhere else to live.  Like his mom pointed out to me this afternoon, Jake and I pay rent here.  We get to dictate the rules.

I’m pissed.  I’ve got huge work to do on this.  It’s one thing to have compassion from a distance and another to have someone poisoning my my space.

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