Fourth Day Withdrawals (Explicit Language Present)

Forgive me if my spelling or grammar are off as I am not in the greatest of mind frames. I am currently on my fourth day of withdrawals from hydro morphs. I've played this game for about four years now, my opponent is addiction and god damn what a cheat he is! Just when I think I have him beat, he shows up in a whisper, perhaps in an old acquaintance whom I can't cut ties with yet. Whenever I have cash, whenever my pockets are lined with dead politicians, the scavenging vultures swoop in and pick apart each and everyone of them. These revolting birds are called childhood buddies.

Is it hard to believe that everyone of my childhood friends turned out to be drug addled alcoholics? Not when your born into a dysfunctional community, simply called the reservation. I never stood a chance, my mother smokes, my father smokes, my siblings all smoke, my auntie and uncle smoke. The majority of the adult populace in my hometown smoke. Monkey see monkey do and I'm a chain smoker at the age of 16.

The only one in my family who doesn't partake in any liquor is my mother. I'm a damn drunken monkey at the age of 17.

When you get to observe addiction in all it's perverse forms with a developing mind, it begins to rational that drinking, smoking and fucking are okay and naturally occur most everywhere. Perhaps they do occur frequently in the world, but most kids grow up shielded by those evils not bombarded.

The one thing I would always enjoy about my frequent rehab stints were the sharing circles. It's basically a group of men or women who share there experiences and stories, one after the other. Drunks and winos have a knack for collecting absurd, horrifying, dramatic and humorous stories. It's not uncommon for a drunken tale to incorporate all four of said emotions but when they do, my attention is fixed. Not trying to glorify drinking but it does have that one pro amongst many cons.

Anyways somewhere along the line my tastes for blackout weekends dissipated and my nose caught the scent of percocets, 325 mg of tylenol, 10mg of caffeine and 5mg of oxycodone per pill. I must have been about 18 or 19 when I first experimented with opiates. I graduated to oxycontin and then to hydro morphine. Here I am 6 years later and more experienced in terms of withdrawing and detoxing the body.

I spent my sons birthday with him on Monday before he left to visit his mom for a week, this was my opportune time to quit. I've informed many of my childhood friends of my situation, something I've never done before in previous attempts. They all understood and now I have a new type of confidence this time around.

The fourth day is always the hardest when withdrawing in my opinion. The day is nearly finished and I'm hoping that I don't wake up with another soaked pillow. Nytol ensures that I sleep through the night sweats, still it's unpleasant waking up drenched.

My writing has suffered as a result of this ongoing addiction of mine and my relationships as well. The inspiration to write only visits me when I have a sober mind, it's the only time I'm allowed to grow my technique. When my addiction becomes something more positive, when my time becomes consumed by reading and learning the craft of fiction. This is one of numerous motivations to pursue the fifth day and so on.

Thanks for reading and again I apologize for my errors in grammar and what not. Will try and fix them when I'm feeling less anxious.