So while in treatment, I jumped through all their little hoops. I thought I wanted to get clean, but all of the counselors said I was doing it for all of the wrong reasons. I was on the pink treatment cloud they talk about. I was in treatment for a few weeks after all. I knew everything!
While I was in treatment they didn't allow us to go to outside 12-step meetings unless we were there for a certain amount of time. They had one in-house CA (Cocaine Anonymous) meeting. Two women came in and talked to us.
I asked my counselor to have a list of 12-step meetings in my area faxed down, so I could get some sort of game plan for when I returned home. I saw Narcotics Anonymous on the list, and thought that would be a better fit than AA. Since I'm an addict that seemed to make sense.
I also kept in contact with my still using fiance'. I esentially coerced him into recovery. I told him we were done unless he quit, and he certainly didn't want to. Not a move I would recommend for anyone. Ultimatums don't work so well.
I thought I knew this recovery shit inside and out. In fact I was going to save the world one addict at a time! HA!
So I completed treatment "successfully" and returned home. I went to my first NA meeting, and dragged the fiance' kicking and screaming. I clicked with people, took numbers, and shared. I was so full of crap though looking back on it all. I didn't want to be clean. If I did I would've usued the phone numbers, and began dealing with my big bag of crap.
I also thought I was different than all of the people I met in meetings. I was unique, I didn't have to work the program like they did. I was special.
I also returned to work to two women who managed to deplete my clientelle. Whatever the one was telling my clients while I was gone, most of them wouldn't even look at me, or talk to me. So I decided I needed to go back to school right away. I decided nursing would be a good career. I could make lots of money, right?
I was clean about 90-120 days when I went to the doctor, and she noticed I was due for a refill on my Xanax. Without thinking about it I happily said yes, had it refilled, and a 30 day supply was gone within 24 hours.
I promptly spent the next week feeling sorry for myself, and minimizing my relapse like it was no biggie. I even lied at meetings telling people that my sponsor (I didn't have one) said it was ok, and that it didn't really count as a relapse. Looking back I can remember all the crazy looks I got when that one came out of my mouth.
So back on the horse I went. I did get a sponsor not too long after that, but didn't know how to use her, therefore I didn't. I registered for school and began taking nursing classes, on top of working at the salon, and going to meetings.
How stupid could I get?! One of the first classes I was in was a math class. I met a girl who was on all sorts of anti-anxiety medication, and began using again. I thought I could somehow control it, or it would be different this time. What I learned would make me sneakier for sure.
Soon I was in a CNA class. I met two Natives from the Lac Da Flambeau Indian reservation. We were in a group one day and they asked if I was into painkillers. I said yes. Soon I was off and running to the reservation to get high, and get painkillers.
I was also beginning to develop quite a few connections in the Native community. I soon realized the rez was a gold mine of drugs. Seemed like no matter where you went you could find something.
I was still attending meetings here and there to keep up an "appearance". What appearnance I'm not quite sure. My fiance' was cheating on me so I dumped him, and really had no desire to date anyone. Evetually I would pawn the ring for drug money.
They always said each time you relapse it gets worse and worse, like I said I thought I was above all of that and that I could stop whenever I wanted to. I was clueless as to how far I would really go down into the depths of despair..........
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