I treated myself to a new phone last night. Contacts came over from Google.
Contacts whose names I had not seen in over 2 years.
Them… was a drug connection. I had maybe 20 numbers in there. None of those people were my actual friends. Do you know how sad that is? What kind of life was I living?
I am not where I would like to be but I am incredibly grateful I am no longer where I used to be.
Instead of spending my extra cash on a substance to crush and snort up my nose, I spent the money on a new phone. $300 well spent on something that will hopefully last me for years to come as opposed to spending $300 on substances that will be gone within 72 hours (at most).
658 days I’ve woken up without texting that sketchy guy who was always in and out of jail, praying he would meet me before I went to work “because I was hurting”.
658 days I have not asked my dad for money with the sole purpose of getting high, hating myself the entire time, but knowing I would throw an uncalled for fit if he said no.
658 days have gone by without the need to contact people who I genuinely don’t like and hating myself the entire time.
33 weekends that I have not blacked out or made a complete fool of myself.
33 weekends that I was fully aware where I was when I woke up, fully clothed, without mysterious hickeys on my neck.
33 Sundays woken up without shame and regret from the night before. Without fear for what I said or did.
33 Sundays woken up without guilt over how I behaved or what I said.
33 Saturdays without that gut wrenching stomach ache or the pounding headaches.
33 Saturdays I’ve woken up knowing exactly where my debit card is and where my purse was last.
33 Saturdays without the thought of drinking again, in the morning, because “why not?”. And the only reason I didn’t was because I had no one to drink with.
33 full work weeks that I have not come to work hungover.
I still struggle with binge eating and I have gained 40 pounds in the last 2 years, since I moved away from my hometown. My head is clear. I know what I don’t want. Little pulls of what I do want creep into my consciousness daily. Creative ideas, ideas to make the world better (reality and logic on hold for some). I’m comfortable being who I am. Moody. Indecisive. Awkward. Self-absorbed.
Most of all, I have hope today that my life will get better. I don’t have this hope every day. In fact, some days I want to leave this unfair and unjust world for good. I’m trying to be grateful for what I have, to stay positive, and to stay true to myself. I’m following what feels good. I’m okay with failing. I’m okay with no one reading this blog or commenting it or liking it. I started this blog for me. I started this blog because I’ve been telling myself I’m gonna write more but being scared to fail.