Right Where I am Supposed to Be

Lately it has been very apparent that I have definitely missed out on a lot in life. During the years that I should have been in college, dating, getting ahead in life, nurturing my kids, I was using. And using. Intermittent periods of personal growth otherwise known as "rehab"were almost just a form of harm reduction. HA.
Sometimes I feel like I am a fool to think I am doing ok. Really when I look at other people who seem to have it together....I fall soooo short. We've only got one life, right? Is mine really half over? I pissed on the first half and now it just seems like a really long clean-up. A really long clean-up.
I made my bed and I am a believer in cleaning up my own mess, but damn I feel so stuck. The circumstances I have created are suffocating me and it will be a long time before I am free.
I used to use over this kind of thing. The yucky past would be right there biting me in the ass and I would exercise my big ol "fuck-it" muscle and get high. The stakes are so high if I were to use again. I am not willing to go there. I can't say I haven't thought about it. I did today actually, my roommate left town. Immediately after the thought I saw my son's beautiful face, and I am not willing to lose that precious little guy. And tonight - be damned if there wasn't a message from my daughter saying hi and she loves me. Pretty awesome that through the years of being an ongoing disappointment, there are two angels on my side. I'm a very lucky girl indeed. While I am catching up on the game of life I guess I can be ok because I did something very right.

Veins

Ha! Veins. Yes veins. Lately I have had a couple of glimpses of some stellar veins . Yes. Big blue veins. How ridiculous that this can stir up the excitement of using. I try not to stare, and I push the thoughts out of my head, but today I found myself looking for some viable veins on my own arms. Excitement of using? Is that what I just said?

Today I drove by the ravine that a year and some ago I was at the bottom of, under a log, in a puddle, shooting up. This memory makes me feel sick. I was running from people who weren't there, police that were not chasing me , I just wanted to fix and not "be seen". I was always scared my drug would be taken away. It was intense fear that sent me tumbling through the thick brush to the bottom of that ravine. Yes there was someone in the forest, but it was not the five-0, it was a raccoon and later some deer.

Moments like the above are all I need to think back on when I think I am excited about veins. There is still a slimey sneaky person in my head who my friend likes to call "Dumbfuck".( or df for short) If I can counter df with some yucky memories each time df gets the urge to glamorize using, all will be well.