I don’t want to die, but I’m tired of fighting addiction
I don’t really know why I’m posting this. I think I just need to say it somewhere people don’t know me.
I’m in my early 30s and addiction has been part of my life for a long time. I’ve been to rehab a number of times. Before my most recent rehab I had been smoking crack for a few months and things had gotten really bad. I was 8 months sober when I got out a couple of months ago.
I have a university degree and used to have a normal corporate job and a pretty functional life, and eventually everything kind of fell apart. But looking back, I was always addicted to something and I have BPD, depression, anxiety and adhd which I take meds for.
I ended up on welfare while doing a longer rehab program because that was basically the only way I could afford to stay there and my sick leave from my job was up and they expected me to go back or quit so I quit and went on welfare to go to this rehab after a year and a half of horrible addiction with hospital and psych ward stays (for suicide, not psychosis).
I got out thinking I’d rebuild my life (but I think deep down I know) and somehow I’m now escorting and using cocaine again.
The escorting started because I needed money. My first night I ended up spending most of the night with one client, made way more than I expected, and we did coke together. I feel like that opened the door again because he gave me his dealers number. Now I’ve been buying coke before I work. I’m not really doing it with clients, it’s more something I’m doing beforehand. And I’ve been doing it by myself like Im on it tonight because I ran out of vyvanse so justified it for that but I’m not doing anything? I end up just on my phone it’s so fucked. I also have a prescription for vyvanse that I’ve had a problem abusing for a while.
I know how insane this sounds after going through rehab so many times. I know where this can go. That’s almost the problem. None of this is new information to me anymore.
I’m not planning on killing myself. But lately I’ve had this really dark feeling of like… maybe this is just how I eventually die, and part of me feels weirdly okay with that because then everything would finally stop. I don’t actually want to overdose or intentionally die. I think I’m just so tired of fighting myself all the time that I’ve started feeling really numb about what happens to me.
I don’t need anyone to tell me cocaine is dangerous or that I should go back to rehab. I know. I guess I’m wondering if anyone else has reached this point where you weren’t actively suicidal, but you stopped caring very much whether your addiction eventually killed you. Or I guess I just wanted to rant.