EIGHT TO TWO

Not a new way to tell the time I am not a scientist or an inventor. Just an  ordinary guy living my life out on this planet Earth. Friday  evening minding my own business eight days in on my crack list. Until I get a call and my brain splits. My son has got a message on social media and through the same source asks my daughter to turn on the phone. She comes down and tells me to which I reply, “He is probably joking”

She turns on the phone anyway and gives him a call. Straight away he tells her to pass me the phone. “Hello”

“Dad, I have some bad news” his message was brutal though the delivery was kind, even though it blew my mind. “Josie passed away today” I heard, the rest was a blur.

The only mother I really knew, lets say she was the best of three. Now she was gone and I was confused. Sat thanking my boy for the message I did not know what to do.

The word was spreading fast as I got a call from the kids mom, “Should I come round, just found out from my sister” I replied in the affirmative, mind in a spin.

The more astute reader knows where this is heading, the addict in me joins in, as she walked in I ask “Have you got any money”? She felt sorry for me and pulled out a tenner. “My head’s in bits I just want a hit” I cried. Truth be told I lied.

I used the death of my step mum as an excuse for me to use, I was on the eighth day of my recovery when the addict in me pushed his ugly head to the fore.

I couldn’t resist him “Just one and no more” I  heard myself saying on the phone to score. Within minutes I had the foil out and a stone ready to blaze, mixed up days.

I did not know how I was feeling to be truthful, she was consistent but strict in an unfair fashion. Many days had me wishing, bad things.

Now she was gone and why speak ill of the dead just recognise the good instead, move on it is better for your head, a single tear hit my bed.

As for the addict he found a way in to disrupt my counting, now I must begin again. I had reached day eight, felt great but I cant cry over spilt milk. Don’t beat yourself up.

The hard part would start tomorrow when I would have to tell my son what I had done. When his mum caved in on the drink he gave her back her card and refused to help again.

One thing about me is that regardless of the situation I cannot tell a lie. I refuse to be a coward which is what a liar is, no way. The next day when he arrived I found a time, and to one side, I told him that last night I used. He replied he knew, I would, but understood.

I told him I knew I used the death as an excuse to use but the addict in me rose and I allowed the takeover. I felt worse for using and I would learn from my experience it wont happen again.

He is still on board, holding my card, lucky me, I get paid tomorrow and would have used any bad stuff as a reason to binge and give up, thank fuck, for my son, and understanding.

So Saturday night I had one. No lie it was no fun, the getting it was but when it came and I blazed it was a waste of time. Now I am back to day two.

Starting again but for any addicts reading don’t be hard on yourself, use it as a lesson to recognize when  the addict will try and rise, he will look for any way to come up, shady fuck.

Learn and move on, start back up get on the recovery truck. Good luck. I am now on day two and looking good, mishap yes but trust me I will impress. Wait till day thirty and over when the addict is pushed down the well so deep. That is the thoughts you keep. Love to all still reading. Your energy keeps me feeding, so thanks to all.

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