91 days and on day 92
Addict name Carlton. I have something that just crossed my mind and I wished it hadn’t because now I have to write about it. Tomorrow if God risks waking me up to live by example for someone to follow then I will be grateful. But this is one of them times I normally celebrated my birthday getting high, drunk, and tied to the bed. Now I have to wonder where my amusement is going to come from? I can’t do a lot of the shit, which proved unfit for me, including sex, because some people aren’t mentally capable to have sane acts of lust, no instead, I won’t even get into that. Anyway, I am only talking about myself, because I know I am the subject and the end of the chapter. Fortunately, I am able to report I am not going to be locked up, institutionalized, or caught dead from using, on my 41st year on this earth. It sure feel like more time because of the shit I been thru and put people thru.
41 years, it seems no different then 40, but it is. I am not mad about the choices I made. In actuality, if was granted my wish, even though I prayed to change my life, I was suppose to be still practicing killing myself, because I grew accustom to it. My thoughts were if I was still using I was going to make this my last birthday getting or attempting to get high. But plans got changed. If you ever want to feel laughter from God, make some plans and watch how dramatically they change! This is no one but God telling me, you think you got control of something, HA! I beg to differ you can’t control your own destiny after I am summoned, I found that out quick. Look at me, I am 91 days ahead in my life, not locked up, started my business over, I might have or receive the type of love, I want, but who can honestly say they were rewarded that, outside being married?. Now remember I prayed for this time. And yes I have 91 days; I would have had much more, if I had surrendered when I first got clean. Instead I was constantly stringing days together, but never tying the knot to strengthen the bond, between me and my God. From June 26 to august 11 I wouldn’t combine any more then 5 to 8 days of not using. I really put in my mind, if I could just get away with some more pain, I could handle it. Oh that was even more hilarious to God, because he gave me a set of rules from the PO to the 12 step program to follow. I was looking for ways to not do it and I found them, but the pressure to find ways and means to get one was starting to get more and more complicated. I had to do the program and my guilt was surfacing and then the PO was threatening me. All sorts of shit said Fuck Sharief, let’s grab Carlton and take this help. At least fine out what could happen. I think the rules I took more serious was not the PO’s, but the 12 step program. Once I realize I had friends and strangers that looked at me and felt I am being groomed for something. That something is what I am trying to get the answer to. Every day I showed up and the mind was slowly following. One day that mother fucker got there by I did. Because I start institute this behavior at home. Of course I was fucking up a lot of people’s highs, but I wasn’t so why should they be able to enjoy theirs. I still feel that way 91 days later, because it still resides in my house. But change is going to come and that is me changing my address to join my attraction.
I know today if I had thought about playing the hand I was dealt and kept getting high, I wouldn’t be walking around B-more without looking over my shoulders. I would have been locked the fuck back up probably for murder. I don’t think I would have been smart enough to run, because my shoes had me walking on the skin of my feet, my money was escaping out my grasp to fast to get a ticket to anyway. Hell I couldn’t even afford a bus pass (1.60 one way 3.50 all day), because my body was fiending. So I would had probably packed up and walked across town and prayed no one was looking for someone where ever I planted my bags. I am tired of getting caught on humbles.
Now a day’s people are proud of me even if they can’t construct their mouth to spit the words out. My P.O. was one of them. Here is how my insanity works. I got to daydreaming wondering, if me being clean could get a date with this fine ass woman, especially since we knew each other personally. But I quickly snapped out of, because my best thinking got my ass set up. All I can do is put my hands in my pocket and play with my dick on the side, because I very seldom have money after bills. Isn’t that a bitch, this same mother fucker trying to be responsible. Anyway, my spondee brothers, sponsor, and the fellowship can’t get enough of me, yes me, doing this mother fucking thing like my life depend on. Hell it does, I only got the same options I started with life vs. jail or death. I am not the crazy type. That was the mask I put on, so people would give into me without a struggle. I do have some insane shit brewing in my gut, but I can control that shit for the most part and only because I am still learning how to arrest such things. I am not trying to let that shit get bail.
Damn 41 and I can’t have even enjoy a sip of Beer, a breathe of weed or crack. I can’t even look at crack on a book covers or on TV commercials, the disease say you can get one and be alright, but i know better. Hell I can’t even sniff my baby I married first, Shirley (coke). I loved going to the corner store and buying me that nose candy. I and that bitch go back like lazy boy recliners. Just too bad she was just like a lot of women I dealt with, A BITCH NOT TO B FUCKED WITH.
I really put myself in that category, because if I wasn’t so greedy do you know I would be dead anyway, because this shit don’t come with instructions or applications of whom to fuck with, who fuck with the shit. I ran with some people that would pass not just the bill with something on it, but the ass whipping, the bitch claiming she diseased free, and the bullet, because I was hanging with them. This is just some of the shit; I know I am still not safe proof from, if I return to my mayhem. I just have to always remember I am not going to always have nine lives. In reality I just kept recycling them obliviously, because I am still here. Either the devil fear I am going to try and put out his fire, so he told God lets live him where he at.
Just for today I am happy I can’t have a crumb. For me even that is too much. Lord knows I don’t have enough money to kill myself with my requirement serving I like. And I am not going to ask no one, “Can you help me kill myself” after I finally felt 91 going on 92 days, again. What I learned is always better then what I knew. The shit I knew kept me in trouble.
