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Diary of a Drug Addict Vol. III: My Name is Frank

Editor’s Note: When we last left Frank, he was reeling from his break up with his ex, who caught him using again and dumped him on the spot. He realized that his boyfriend just wanted something that is simple, a surface relationship that was pretty on the outside. Frank knew that, with his addiction,  he had to let things get ugly if they were ever going to be good, pretty be damned.

 

A couple of days after the latest break-up, I was out of my mind and still pretty suicidal. So my best friend Dan suggested I go to a twelve-step meeting.

 

Cue giant eye roll.

 

I had been in an out of those rooms for the past two years and, frankly, it was the last damn place I wanted to go and say that I was back, yet again. But there I was, in my car sitting outside the meeting, texting my dealer. I paused before hitting send and I realized that I had a choice.

 

 I could either:

 

A.) Text my dealer, get more drugs and die.

 

B.) Go inside and try to get my life on track.

 

Thankfully, I went inside and let it all hang out. I have never shared so honestly and openly. Following the meeting, Chase, a guy that I’ve known for a while and has 12 years of sobriety, asked if I wanted to go to McDonald’s to chat. Never one to pass up fast food, I said yes. We talked for over an hour in his car and really connected. He shared his experiences of being in and out of the rooms for years, as well. I asked him to be my sponsor and to basically tell me what to do. I was, at the point, willing to do anything to remain sober.

 

The next week was spent detoxing, and my memory of it all is pretty vague. I took a week off of work and was put on medication. I have never been through such an emotionally charged moment in my life, and the people that were there for me were virtual strangers from twelve-step meetings. During my first night back at the meetings, I met an elder with 35 years of sobriety, who came up to me on break and told me this.

 

“Let us love you until you can love yourself.”

 

And during that week, they did. Chase introduced me to Aaron, whom I had met a few times, and we instantly connected. So for this week, I was know that I was able to remain sober because of the support from Aron, Chase, Ted and Dan. They held me, took me to the doctor and, most importantly, made me attend the meetings. I’ve been to meetings every single day and have committed to doing 90 meetings in 90 days.

 

So welcome to my journey. I can’t promise you that it’s going to be pretty or that I will be rational all of the time, but here are my hopes:

 

1) That I remain sober and make it to my one-year of documenting this journey.

 

2) That my story helps someone out there feel like less of a monster and a huge screw up.

 

3) That I can change some of my crazy-ass behaviors and live a truly sober life, both physically and emotionally.

 

So here we go… time to put on my big girl panties and do the work.

 

My name is Frank, and I am an addict.