Adderall and the memory of snorting pills doesn’t leave me. No matter how much I want the pills to dissolve into emptiness and nothingness – they stay with me, forever ingrained – as if they are still a part of me (when Thank God, they’re not).
My relapse dreams consist of different years and chapters and scenes, but the plot is always the same – me, snorting a pill, hating myself for losing my recovery time, and then lying about it – most often to my parents and to the friends who wanted to save me in past years. I can’t disappoint them again. I don’t want to. It will break their heart. I lie to keep the truth protected, to keep my parents proud.
There is a Macklemore song I listen to on my daily runs – Starting Over – about throwing away three plus years and what he will do and who he will tell and how is he even capable of telling this truth. There is a line that always gets to me: “And you know what pain looks like/When you tell your dad you relapsed/ and you look at him directly into his face.”Read More