74 and continuing the day to day process of maintaining my sanity
Addict name Carlton. I recently had to wonder why I was here and since drugs don’t dictate my life like it was in the past. Now I have to the put the excuses of drug usage away and see what it was that is still occupying space in my life. What make my thinking fulgurate and why. Thank God for the process of NA cause I could b hugging them corners looking for unavailable love.
It was suggested I change my playground, playmates, and play stool toys. Some things aren’t that possible, but maintaining a strong present of determination while I am still in transition is critical for my on going process. Starting my inventory of changes I can’t ignore anything I haven’t done. So as time passed I recognized how I was being met at my needs. And I also had to over stand the process in full. I had to determine if my patience was going to b in jeopardy? Although, I live in the same domain or zoo purchasing an exit ticket is what my goal is. Not once do I refer to living rent free is to become my comfort zone. With this zone come a lot of test that would have came even if I was living in a condo. I am growing from this process everyday. I know recovery is not going to b easy so I accept that with open eyes. Those that come with the territory I am constantly questioning their intentions especially since they too decided to walk on the side of the unknown outcome. I have to remember the picture on the wall is going 2 be crookit for along time even if the house is sitting on a level straight foundation. I am no fool I won’t fail to recognize even God didn’t see fit to include good with his description of creation when he made man. So like they I am to not good. My process is to revamp myself as best as possible so I could b seen in a positive light. But there are other character defects I have that have nothing to do with drugs. And I have been clean and sober now for 74 days. So what is it that makes me feel I must correct my wrong behaviors? Keep reading and more will be revealed.
It was suggested I change people, places and things or my playmates, playgrounds, and my play toys. I immediately began with my associates, because the life style I was living and those who were a part of it couldn’t have been friends. Today, outside of my program I really have only one person of my former life I associate with and share my deepest thoughts and she is clean and sober also. Having such female friends or associates is acceptable to me as long as they are complying with staying clean. We as addicts must join forces to fight off temptations and help one another overstand what changes should b made to strengthen our spiritual being. Also I must add my new associates men or women are not my atm, bed partners, or those I worship. I do value their perspectives on life and I study the changes they made in their life that I can see. I listen to how they model what changes they have made. Remember living is more of the attraction then the promotion. As long as I feel they got my back I will love those more then I love money. For me money can be my enemy if I don’t use it correctly. At this very moment the house I live in still have addicts that practice their drug of choice. I realize they will eventually surrender. That is their process not mine. I can’t and wasn’t able to control myself when I was using. So I wouldn’t dare think I could sit in their company and not use. So I do what the program suggested, pray, go to meetings, don’t pick up, get a home group, (I got three), get a sponsor and do some step work. It is not a big order if u trying to save your life. I know from what I see them going thru I don’t want to go back to using. But I must say my goal is to purchase a ticket to get out of the zoo. I have heard many people say they got clean under circumstances some don’t see comfortable with the outcome being recovery. I can say to them if they escape and are still recovery one day at a time then that was God seeing how sincere u was. I intend to remain sincere and recognize I am not in control of anyone’s life. This is also teaching me to understand what I can and can’t change. Change starts and end with me.
I certainly have changed my toys. Since I remember very little of playing with tonka trucks and fisher price blocks, I do remember later on in life my toys being ash bowls, straight shooters, blunt paper, chore boy and all sort of shit I used to get high. My thinking told me use them like an American Express card, never leave home without. That was so stupid to put my freedom in serious jeopardy daily. That would be like throwing rocks at passing police cars. If I was stopped once and checked I was subjected to get locked up. Even with out drugs having paraphernalia on me is a charge. I am so glad today I made the tools of recovery my basic text, people who have knowledge of the 12 steps and traditions. These things are my new toys, the people are my new family members, and this is my new 411 to find the good shit for my recovery.
Don’t get it twisted dropping every avenue of using didn’t come easy at first and challenging what I would do without drugs was done in the beginning. I felt I was being forced to change my mind so I continued to get high, even though, I was on probation with a strict white man for a P.O. I thank God he was patient and seen something me and didn’t violate me immediately. Although he was suggesting or more so ordering me 2 go to a treatment center. He was optimistic about treatment. He know their really is no treatment for crack/cocaine or weed. It might not be any medical treatment for an addict in a 12 step program, but mentally and physically there is. Listening too many addicts share their stories show us the answers to the unseen (the future). What we may question in the beginning as far as what can happen if we get clean? That question is answered by attraction not promotion. God has proven thru other addicts, who live the program; life is better on the other side. This in turn encourages me to want to continue recovery. Recovery can be a beautiful experience unlike going to jail and institutions. I am glad when I see someone getting their one day key chain. I realize they didn’t punk out and died. They wised up and are continuing to live.
I learned what drugs do? It clouded my judgment and made my morals decease over a course of time. I saw my nevers become my reality in the end. Some things I still might not have done would have been done if I had continued. Hell in the beginning of my using addiction years ago my insane thinking told me I was alright. Hell my thinking was my best friend and teacher. Since I wasn’t looking like I was at rock bottom I thought practicing and including people with experience into my circle was alright. I never thought about any character defects. I never knew they exist. But I know too day they were always there and were enhanced the more I experiment with different drugs and more people with different experiences.
I learned the more I used and studied those that used different drugs they weren’t like me I thought. I noticed they were suffering more and it had nothing to do with appearance telling on them. Anyhow, I became intrigued or attracted to them instantly. I thought or knew I could control them. I used the shit out them in order to maintain my wellness (being high). The entire time I didn’t pay any attention, but I was using drugs to hide behind. My lust issues was somewhat perverted let society tell it, but I beg to differ. I knew drugs would make a low self esteem woman not question what I wanted sexually. Anyhow my choice of women when I was hunting normally landed me a girl who turned tricks.
Me believing I wasn’t an addict made me a good manipulator at least I thought. In the beginning I was sparkling to some people. They didn’t know what I did unless they were in my circle. I was selling drugs so u knows I accustomed a dealer’s habit instantly. I talked quick and not because I was from Apple. I assume I had better talk as quick as I think it would keep an addict off balance. I knew women would b intrigued with me. So I thought. To some tricks I was the prince and they were the frog. And someone told me don’t let them bitches know what cards u holding. Hook them and u will never b ill. I did this and found a host of tricks that thought I was their medicine. I protected them and they paid me for it with money and loved fulfilling my sex fantasies whatever they were. I even had women who wasn’t tricking working good jobs. All they wanted was the dick and who was I to deprive them? Certainly, I was not a fool so they got it as long as they kicking out.
Most times I was sporting tricks on my arm and most men didn’t know who they were. And if they did they would wonder how the hell I got her to change to a housewife? Who said, she changed? She just looks more acceptable in your eyes. I was schooled but I didn’t hear all the lessons and I missed some days when I should have been present. Nevertheless I ran on what I thought I knew.
I targeted woman who hung on corner or around the area. No it wasn’t so apparent they were selling pussy, but once the conversation arose it was apparent. I knew their self esteem was low enough for me to run my Obama suggestions about change on them. Hell they went for it and in turn they didn’t regret what prices they had to pay. Sometimes I didn’t even want the money, but I took it just to keep them in check. I really can’t say I was a pimped, because most of them thought pimp was too low of a word to categorize them self with. I smiled when they suggested I was called their manager. It was like they were Mickey Dee’s or something. This is real talk I had women with the best pussy a man could fall in love with. Niggas would neglect their family just to get his fantasies answered. Since he was chasing feelings it didn’t matter to her if I was too chasing my own when it was just us 2. She was use to it by now.
I remember how crazy I was and they would say to me u come prepared. I couldn’t have sex without my sex tools in the beginning unlike the end. In the end sex didn’t even matter. My toys were candles, ropes, high heels, thongs, mood enhancements, and some other things that would change your whole outlook on the world of sex. My sexual escapades were as scrambled as eggs and mixed up like fruit. I was considered a voyeur by all means. I mean I could have a female with a gorilla face and everything right from the neck down in my stable. And I would treat her like one of charlies’angels. Only a dummy would fuck up his own high and means to get high. Most of my woman was required to smell nice first. I wanted people to know u was in the room. They had wear something that would make a wife burn her husband eyes out, if he dare thought about peeking at one of my tasties remember the bitch could b looking like king kong, but her attitude, knowledge of what men wanted to hear, among else a body that was a crime to have and no.1 they had to have pretty feet. That was one of my requirements and it wasn’t just for the trick. It was for my own personal satisfaction. I didn’t mind sharing her with others. I felt they admired me and want to be like me. Since they were paying the hell for what they thought, fuck her and pay me.
Plan and simple the disease knew what I liked just as much as drugs and that was a female, with mountain road curves that would get u dizzy just looking at her, with some meat on her bones, can’t forget that Mac lip gloss or candy apple red lips. This was to accompany those professionally pedicure painted toes. You know I would ask a girl to kick her shoes off and if they weren’t to my standards, she had to get to it fitted immediately, if she wanted to fuck with me. Some thought nothing of it, but it was serious as a heart attack to me. Summertime, I would go places just to watch women dressed in business attire, which was another turn on. I would look at their feet on purpose because I wanted to see their feet. I would pray to God quickly to see them with their open toe shoes. That shit would send me mentally crazy truthfully. And I don’t know too many men that don’t think like me. I would fuck with an ugly one as long as the feet was right and they would b right in my mouth while was grinding in that pussy. It became a ritual because still to this day the feet have to look like something. I am not as critical, but I won’t fuck with a hammer toe chick. She could look like Janet Jackson, she got nothing coming.
When I was able to hook or crook one of these females, they would gracious get the invite 2 my dungeon as I like to call it. And waiting for them was a pair of heels, it didn’t matter what was her taste or height requirements, she had to put them on. And keep them on. Stroll around my house, let me hear you. I don’t care if u sound like a horse, I would gawk at her ass for hours. I would tell her to put on some lingerie and heels. Then tell her to go make me some pancakes. I knew as long as she was stirring her body was going start giggling. I would tell her to do certain things that I thought was sexy. When she went to the bathroom I had to watch. I got even more thrilled if she had to go in the alley. See what I am saying that is some sick shit the funny thing I am not ashame to write. And if she was into wax, yes candle wax, I would set her ass on fire damn near. I think I got more of thrill just knowing I could smell the stench of sweaty feet afterwards and during my carnival. Let’s not even talk about the photography or sex videos that were made starring ME. Sometimes, honestly when I didn’t feel like a woman, the clothes, shoes and thoughts of the previous one who wore that shit was enough to feed obsess insane cravings. I believed the drug part of my disease had a lot to do with my character defect. Although, I am not using today I still entertain them thoughts. I even wish I could just do it again and I mean without the drugs.
In this world, addiction is the problem and recovery is the key. I have learned my character defects don’t mean I am crazy, although I do think insane a lot of times. I am more then happy today I am doing the necessary things to understand and change my defects. Most people would rather bury that part of them, because their esteem no matter how high or low tells them u betta not say nothing. No one is going to like u or they going to heckle u. fuck that! every mutha fucka on this earth got some type of character defects, it don’t matter whether they trying to learn about how to change it or they trying hard to bury it, I just know I am not alone. I would rather challenge changing me and my fetish behavior then to try and hide behind it.
Suppose I force myself to forget or ignore my lust issues and I pick up what I like? Suppose who I like to share my fantasies with also like doing CRACK? Suppose I don’t investigate more thorough while in her company, but in the back of my mind I already know the deal and I still go with her? If I ignore this shit and get so caught up in what she got on, smell, and doing believe me my recovery is in jeopardy. Because my disease will tell me u ok get the thrill don’t worry about having to use. I know damn well my lustcapades can get out of control. If I don’t see no drugs disease will convince me I’m ok. Hell, what if that bitch decides she wants to smoke some CRACK while I am hitting it from the back? What if she doesn’t tell me and just decide to just whip out and while I am in action. I see or smell that smoke, I can’t call 911 to save my ass if. I go to hell with a pipe in my hand. So now a day’s I don’t fuck with my recovery by including myself in my fetish company, because they can like every damn thing I like and some things aren’t good for me.
I have discovered I have to uncover to continue to recover. When I chose to remove my mask I was actually accepting the suffering addict behind it. I was also willing to accept and change my defects. The only medicine that could be called a cure is exposing me by being real with the truth! I must keep this shitty part of me up front so I don’t fuck any one life up starting with mine. Change comes over a course of time. Just for today I will tell myself I can with only the help of the Higher Power.
