At What Point Does This Become an Exercise in Futility? (Caleb)

At what point does this all become an exercise in futility?

My wheels have been spinning for almost 22 years now in the rut of this exhausting cycle, drug use, crime, jail, rehab. My life depends upon breaking the cycle.

Furthermore, I have a critical mission. I have to remember that men and women die every day on the streets, in jails, and in every other possible place as a result of using drugs. Jail no longer provides respite. Just two days ago there was an overdose here. And the guy who OD’d had overdosed twice in two days.

I’m so f’ing sad. I miss my family and my woman. I was so desperate to find any sense of comfort and familiarity before my arrest that I became even more of a risk taker than usual. I have never been the type of person who found solace in promiscuity so rule that out! I missed the genuine human interaction with those I love. Not only did I miss my girlfriend but I missed my mom, my niece and nephew, my brother and sister, my elders and I miss my relatives. I badly wanted to make it home for the (Native American Church) conference this year.

I am thankful for the lessons I learned this time out.

These are the two most significant teachings I learned

First, I am the only person responsible for my actions. At the time I left my recovery house, I went to use dope and to spend more time with my girlfriend. It was easy to convince myself that this was going to fly because I wanted it. I soon learned it was inexcusable. Nothing can ever justify me hurting myself with drugs. I wanted someone to support me in my choice, and I didn’t get it. Instead, I got a breach and I lost my companion.

Second, I learned that if you betray someone or if someone betrays you, it’s not up to you to say whether or not you betrayed them or for them to say if they betrayed you. If the person who was hurt feels betrayed, they were.

I do my best not to hold onto hurt and anger. I do this poorly. Still, no matter what, we should all do our best, to be honest with each other and to treat each other as we would want to be treated.

I have hurt a great many people in my life. I cannot say otherwise. I hope that now I am clean I will be able to work towards healing some of the hurts that were the result of my actions and I am hopeful that others are open to working towards healing as well.

I am hard wired now to survive in jail in a certain way. I was reminded today how deeply that hard wiring runs. I was very slightly provoked, and I reacted with extreme hostility, even with a broken hand and a cast on my wrist. The person that said something to me was obviously scared for his safety and, to be honest, rightfully so. I learned a long time ago that, in jail, violence is an acceptable form of communication.

I am working on changing these responses and the beliefs that underlie them. I am working hard.

At what point does this all become an exercise in futility? My wheels have been spinning for almost 22 years now in the rut of this exhausting cycle, drug use, crime, jail, rehab. My life depends upon breaking the cycle.

Furthermore, I have a critical mission. I have to remember that men and women die every day on the streets, in jails, and in every other possible place as a result of using drugs. Jail no longer provides respite. Just two days ago there was an overdose here. And the guy who OD’d had overdosed twice in two days.

I’m so f’ing sad. I miss my family and my woman. I was so desperate to find any sense of comfort and familiarity before my arrest that I became even more of a risk taker than usual. I have never been the type of person who found solace in promiscuity so rule that out! I missed the genuine human interaction with those I love. Not only did I miss my girlfriend but I missed my mom, my niece and nephew, my brother and sister, my elders and I miss my relatives. I badly wanted to make it home for the (Native American Church) conference this year.

I am thankful for the lessons I learned this time out.

These are the two most significant teachings I learned. 

First, I am the only person responsible for my actions. At the time I left my recovery house, I went to use dope and to spend more time with my girlfriend. It was easy to convince myself that this was going to fly because I wanted it. I soon learned it was inexcusable. Nothing can ever justify me hurting myself with drugs. I wanted someone to support me in my choice, and I didn’t get it. Instead, I got a breach and I lost my companion.

Second, I learned that if you betray someone or if someone betrays you, it’s not up to you to say whether or not you betrayed them or for them to say if they betrayed you. If the person who was hurt feels betrayed, they were.

I do my best not to hold onto hurt and anger. I do this poorly. Still, no matter what, we should all do our best, to be honest with each other and to treat each other as we would want to be treated.

I have hurt a great many people in my life. I cannot say otherwise. I hope that now I am clean I will be able to work towards healing some of the hurts that were the result of my actions and I am hopeful that others are open to working towards healing as well.

I am hard wired now to survive in jail in a certain way. I was reminded today how deeply that hard wiring runs. I was very slightly provoked, and I reacted with extreme hostility, even with a broken hand and a cast on my wrist. The person that said something to me was obviously scared for his safety and, to be honest, rightfully so. I learned a long time ago that, in jail, violence is an acceptable form of communication.

I am working on changing these responses and the beliefs that underlie them. I am working hard.

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