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This plane ride is going to be a turbulent affair. Not from the weather, but from the worsening withdrawal I find myself in.
Withdrawal brings out a version of me I barely recognize. Isn’t that why I’m going to Maryland to detox?
The truth is, I’ve run out of money and other resources. A part of me still wants to keep going. Another part just feels exhausted and has a hard time caring the way I used to.
The PHP groups often feel like they follow a one-size-fits-all approach. I still feel pretty bad, and the lingering effects of the withdrawal have me feeling angry more often than not. I recognize that my choices played a role in bringing me here. Although circumstances may have been difficult, I did not handle them well, and substance use took priority over nearly everything else in my life.
I’ve called home once or twice and received some encouragement. But mostly, my immediate family, which consists of my brother and mother, probably feels relieved to know that I’m somewhere safe and getting help.
After these 30 days, I have no idea what to do. I have no job, no money, no place to go. My mind constantly flickers with possibilities. Right now, it’s difficult to see a clear path forward.
I’m constantly craving an escape from my newly sober mind, which keeps replaying painful memories and regrets. I am 41 years old. This is the first time in 20 years that I’ve been without any substances. Everything is foreign. I feel so out of place. I’m not the friendliest person even when I’m using. Without substances to fall back on, connecting with people feels harder than ever.
My mind constantly thinks about how good it would feel to get high one last time. Just one more day, I tell myself. I struggle to connect with the group therapy or find it helpful. Still, the program is giving my body and mind time to begin recovering.
How did I get here, I ask myself. My mind wanders back to June 2025. Life is great as my wife and I spend a whole day together. It’s hot outside, but inside our car, the air blows cold. While she drives, I look to my left and admire her beauty. I’ve always thought she was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met and never miss a chance to tell her.
We are excited because, in one year, we plan to move to either Costa Rica or Colombia and start a new life. I have a great job and make good money. We have a nice house, a cat, two nice cars, and a great life.
The NBA Finals are on tonight. We get home five minutes before the game starts. I kiss her on her forehead, tell her I’ll be in the other room and will come to bed after the game. This was the last time I saw her alive. The EMTs said it was an overdose.
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