I almost in a way feel traumatized by the years I spent consumed by addiction. I look back on the things I did, the shit I lost, the love that suffered and how I broke almost all my rules. It was dark and it was hell and the scariest part is that any day now I could just pick up right where I left off. This wasn’t supposed to be my life, I wasn’t supposed to fall so far down.

But I did. And I lost a part of myself that day I picked up for the first time.

My husband and I got transferred to a different shelter and it’s not rare that I walk into the bathroom and see ripped up stamp bags and alcohol pads on the floor. It makes me jealous of this person’s likely ability to actually get high when they want but it also makes me thankful that I don’t have to stick a needle in myself just to feel well anymore.

Recovery is conflicting and troubling sometimes, but addiction is worse.

I am 100% supportive of Trump’s decision to deport illegal immigrants and I have absolutely no sympathy for them.

If someone is committing a crime every second of every day while in America, then they deserve to be penalized. And that is essentially what illegal immigrants are doing - breaking the law with every breath they take, with every second that they are living in America. And their tears mean nothing to me because they could have easily just come here legally. There are illegal immigrants who have been in this country for years with the ability to become legal residents but for some reason, chose not to. There are illegal immigrants who have come legally but have knowingly breached the conditions of their visa. There are illegal immigrants that come here just to have children, just to receive benefits, just to live off us taxpayers. I have no sympathy for any of them.

Anyone that illegally goes to any country and steals jobs from the citizens, receives benefits from the government (which taxpayers pay for), commit crimes (gang violence, selling drugs, rape and murder) and pops out multiple children (which are statistically more likely to continue this negative trend of criminal behavior and living off of taxpayer money) needs to be deported as soon as humanly possible because they are absolutely despicable.

Not every illegal immigrants is a thieving baby machine but guess what? A lot of them are. And they were not allowed to come into our country which their lack of values and morals to help ruin this country.

An Outside Perspective

I was on the bus earlier today and sat behind this guy who had a can of alcohol that he was sipping from. I didn’t think much of it except how much cheaper alcohol is than dope and that I wouldn’t mind a nice, fat shot of some afghan brown or china white. The guy then gets up to stand in front of the doors so he can get off at the stop we’re approaching when all of a sudden he turns around and lunges towards the window and spews projectile vomit at the cars passing us. Everybody’s staring and I’m so happy I moved down to the seat on the other end of the bus before he sprayed alcohol and stomach juices at everything in front of him. When he’s done, he slams the window closed in frustration and maybe even despair and the second he turns around to walk off the bus and light a cigarette, I realize I know him.

He was this guy I spoke to at my last detox about a year ago. He had scars on his arm from the years he spent self harming and was trying to cleanse himself of alcohol and heroin before it was too late. He acted tough and like he didn’t give a fuck about anything but chilling and having fun with some bottles and blunts. But that was a lie or else he wouldn’t have been in there with me. We never spoke or saw each other again after those few grueling days, but I thought about him every now and again. Not because he was cute or charming or anything like that, but just because he stuck out in my memories. He was different but pretended to be the same.

And when I saw him on that bus, I felt this deep sadness in my chest. Like how awful it must be to be him, to be broken and alone and still so addicted. I remember those feelings and how awful they were. The days and nights I spent dope sick, either rejected from detox or just went AMA, throwing up on trains and buses - just like him, homeless and hurting. It’s been a year and he’s still in the same spot, most likely worse than before.

And me? I’ve been clean for almost a year and I am so grateful for that because living that kind of life isn’t really living at all, it’s just existing with this constant pain and despair. I didn’t want that big shot of dope anymore because nostalgia is a liar. There’s not much good with using dope, it’s mostly just fucked up experiences and vicious cycles that get you nowhere but dead.