Being Productive, Addictions in My 400lb Life

Well it's been a little while since I've written an entry. No particular reason, mostly just don't feel I have much to write about I guess.

I have been trying to stay busier during the day. It makes me feel better when I'm productive. Nothing big, just cleaning the kitchen every day, picking up around the house, doing laundry, things like that. It's better than sleeping the whole day away although I still find myself up till 3 or 4 in the morning. I always get up by 7 on weekdays so I can help my daughter get the kids ready. I enjoy that little bit of time with them before they go off for the day.

I'm pretty sure I mentioned my other addictions in an earlier entry. I began with beer and pot around the age of 14. Over the years I've played around with pills, uppers/owners, I love them both. I dropped acid a few times back in the 80's and although I liked it, the thought of it and the stories I'd heard, kept me from continuing to do it. I smoked pot for many years, regularly in my teens and then less so as I got older. To be honest, I never liked it that much. It made me self conscious and paranoid. And I only wanted to eat and sleep.

1996 was a rough year for me. I got laid off when my company downsized. I had been there for 10 years and we were all very close, much like a family. The father of my child (we never married) and I split up after almost 15 years. For solace I guess or maybe camaraderie, I started going to this little neighborhood bar. My good friend and roommate hung out there frequently so I decided to give it a try. It was there I reconnected with my very first love, Jerry. He was the guy who I first fell in love with (Maybe I talked about him in an entry already?) And who I gave my virginity to. Ahh yes, I do remember talking about losing my virginity so I guess I did talk about him.

Anyway, he had left me broken hearted at the age of 19. I continued to love him on some level for all those years. I don't think anyone affects you as much as your first love. I would still run into him occasionally and it always affected me a lot when I did. So here we were, some 15 years later, both single. He was aggressive in coming on to me and I can't deny that I loved every minute of it. I stayed cool for a while, rebuffed his advances for the sheer fun of it, but eventually I caved and just like that, we were back together.

I'd heard a lot of things about him through the years, about his drinking and drug use. No surprises there, it was his party boy ways that split us up the first time. But early on, he introduced me to crack cocaine. This is when my addiction really reared its ugly head. I fell madly in love with this drug, couldn't get enough of it. Thus began 3+years of a downward spiral into hell. I was doing crack every day. Spent every penny I had on this drug. I became a person I know longer recognized. A negligent mother, a person living on unemployment and food stamps, a woman with no fear, who routinely went into the hood to buy drugs, a woman who no longer cared about her appearance, a woman well known to the police, the list goes on and on. I thrived on the drug lifestyle. I quickly became an expert at getting the drug, lining up deals, even having it delivered to my home almost every day. I lost jobs, pawned my jewelry and anything else I could. I got robbed at gunpoint. I sold my car and bought drugs with the money. I spent every waking moment thinking about drugs or doing drugs.

I have a lot of stories to tell but I'll save them for another time. It was through the grace of God and AA/NA that I am sitting here writing this entry. It took this experience and my recovery to make me see how deep rooted addictions are in my life. It's a monster just waiting for the slightest nudge to wake up and take me down. I have 13 years of sobriety from drugs and alcohol. But my addiction to food (and I most definitely consider it an addiction), is still going strong. I've had so many people express awe that I was able to come back from drugs and alcohol. What they don't realize is I still struggle every day. I hate the power food has over me. And cigarettes which I also still struggle with. I quit all the time, sometimes for months and then the monster whispers that surely I can smoke one or two. I've shown I can quit, I've shown how strong I am, certainly one cigarette won't hurt. Or one candy bar. Or one drink. Or one hit. But I have not given up. I still have hope that one day I will win this battle, that I will lose weight and start making some of my dreams come true. I'm hoping that putting it all out there in this diary is a step in the right direction. Baby steps, baby steps.