Arthox

(Trigger-warning)
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At age 26 I tried to kill myself. I didn't put a gun to my head... I just sort of passively accepted death. My girlfriend/best friend broke up with me because I was an alcoholic - dealing with a physical manifestation of pain brought on by a research chemical that I still feel to this day 24/7...13 years later, and I'm in what most people would consider 10/10 pain, constantly, and I also gave her reasons to have trust issues. I understood the situation. It still hurt really bad, and I was finding myself bombing hills at 30+ MPH on a longboard in the dead of the night - into pure shadows on unknown roads, not really caring, half-way wanting to fall just to feel something. But I never did.

I'd hitchhiked to Colorado with this girl. We had a house with a cat and a dog and a white picket fence, but I chose to live amongst homeless people and climb buildings at night, for fun. I couldn't hold down a job. I was very developmentally immature and I didn't understand myself on any real level. I knew my basic code of morals and ethical behavior, but I didn't know Self at all.

I found myself naked, on the top of the railing on a bridge, at midnight, in a thunderstorm (AKA trees might be in the giant river below me), and jumped, feeling nothing, hoping not to impale myself or my eye-socket on a tree, but all I felt was the "arms" of the river almost giving me a hug, but scolding me at the same time. It was like some part of my mind was trying to tell me to **** off with the lethal shenanigans, but also wanted me to understand it was coming from a place of love. I now know this was my subconscious talking to me.

I swam out of the river, scaled the side of a mountain, dragging my balls in poison ivy - which I had to live with for the next 2 weeks. My junk was so hilariously swollen, but to me, it was a reminder of what could have happened, and I saw it as a second chance, for maybe a day.

Jump to me dying in a forest. Summer is turning into fall. I've been bit by the Lone Star Tick and have Alpha-Gal and my diet is so restricted - I'd been living/dying in a friend's house, built in the 1890's, spending all day and night vomiting while having diarrhea and the only way I can describe it is - eventually, after weeks of this - I became "feral." I could talk to people. My mind was so twisted and I was in so much pain, I was gagging myself, just to feel a brief moment of "not-pain," fully-aware of the damage I was doing to myself, but at this point, I didn't know it was from a tick bite, and this was when COVID hit.

I can't talk to people. I'm spending every day trying to be asleep. I'm waking up to eat a pill and smoke 2 hits of weed, just so I can become unconscious again, because existing is too much. The physical sensation of feeling thousands of ants crawling on my brain while a doctor is touching my brain while a power drill is being drilled into the side of my head while people are talking to me while I haven't eaten in days and everything I eat is making me sick and every morning I have to wake up just to leave this house in case a family member comes by, so I'm lying in a forest - all day, every day, writing....hiding, as the summer turns to fall, and then it starts getting cold.

I'm not sure how I survived this part. I ended up in the E.R. multiple times. I remember, once, lying on the floor for 7 hours, scream-crying, trying to bite my tongue, but the pain was too much. I was forced into a praying-position, only for doctors to tell me I'm fine. Like always. This is E.R./Urgent Care visit 7 or 8 by now. I've seen all the stomach doctors. I've seen all the brain doctors and neurologists. I've literally had every medical test done on me. They all tell me I'm fine, and I'm not. My muscles are constantly contracting and spasming. I can't eat. I'm puking up everything I eat. I'm taking pills that just make this stomach pain/pressure come out of my ass instead of my mouth....

I return to the forest, but there's some man always driving around in a truck now, trying to find me so he can have me arrested or at least ticketed and sent sent south, downtown, to live with the crazies. But he never caught me. I've been urban-camping my entire life. I know how to stealth, but my physical condition was eroding quickly... my head was constantly itching all over. Something that's actually gone down for the first time recently by around 20%... as in I don't feel it ALWAYS. Only when I pay attention. Like right now. But that's fine. That's nothing. That's not even pain - just a mosquito in my ear, making my smack myself - on top - instead of the side of my head.

Then one day, at my worst, I was lying on a friend's bed. One of the only friends I still had. I was fading in and out of consciousness - either from lack of nutrition, or my body was giving out, entirely... I heard a girl speaking...fell back unconscious.... woke up again... and somehow ended up at her house... I have a vague memory of going on a walk with her and two friends and her and I totally hit it off, but I had to put myself in between some other dude and her to to assert dominance and all that, and he was being creepy, so that played in my favor, I guess.

I wake up in her bed the next day. I have a foggy memory of her telling me she's leaving for work, and she made me a fruit platter and left lots of water out for me and to make myself at home. It was adorable. She'd gotten up early or whatever, went to the store, bought every type of fruit (not knowing my preference, as we'd just met), and cut them all into little squares, which I quickly devoured. My body needed fruits so beyond desperately. I hadn't had a fruit in actual months. Only Barq's root beer, water and $1 Rodeo Burgers.

She came home and I found out that she'd had a medical thingy, and had, herself, almost just died. She'd spent the past 3 months in the hospital and not one person came to see her. Out of all the friends she thought she had, and her family - they were all too busy to do such a simple thing that would have meant so much to her. So we bonded on a level immediately. Also, she accepted me with all my flaws, and I did the same with her, for then.

Fast forward almost a year - she's gotten addicted to some drugs and I'm not stupid. I can tell that she's hiding these things from me. I know addict behavior - from being one, to seeing how bad it gets from living amongst junkies multiple nights - for fun? Or curiosity... I guess I'm willing to sacrifice myself for knowledge and understanding because how am I to ever help someone if I don't truly understand what makes them tick?

Then we went to a bonfire party, and I met all the people she works with - and I heard 10 stories from 10 "cool hipster" people who she saw on an almost daily basis - who had no dog in this fight. But I saw their eyes when they saw my confusion after they told me things about her I didn't know. I saw the "Ohhhhhhhh, ****" in their eyes.

Not telling someone something is the same as lying to them. Even more, in a relationship. I have no belief system, but I do have a set of rules, and moral and ethical boundaries, and I had learned she had broken many, and on purpose hidden them from me. But what could I say? She saved my life. I helped her get back into the "world" and feel loved and normal, and we DID have a lot of really good times, and we're still friends. Just never lovers, again. Fool me once - that's it. Bye forever. ...also for some reason I couldn't fully commit to her. I was still stupidly in love with my ex for some reason. We were like twins. In an unhealthy way. But it was really fun. Just not responsible or mentally positive for either of us. Either way, I couldn't fully love this girl, so I told her bye.

Now I'm back to living in a forest. It's 2021. I don't want to see anyone. I don't want to talk to anyone. I want to get better, but I have no place to be... I realized, as I lay dying, again, I must ask for help. I was internally crying on repeat. Wanting to cry, but too tired to summon tears... I knew I must sacrifice pride.

I first asked my step-brother (who I'm very close with) if I could spend a week in his closet, alone, and just drink water and get my body healthy. At this point, I still hadn't been diagnosed with Alpha- Gal. A ton of time had passed, and I was still seeing doctors, but nothing changed. They told me I was fine, but I was shaking, in a small tent, in a forest, and because my gut-health was so poor - I couldn't think. FYI - if you're gut-health is so poor that the only thing that comes out of you is blood - your brain also doesn't work. They are connected at a 1:1 ratio.

My brother told me his wife's sister (who was going through some issues) was staying with them and they simply wouldn't have enough space, which is totally understandable. I didn't go into detail about my troubles. Just thanked him and asked to let me know if that's ever a thing.

Then I texted my aunt and told her I'm trying to be sober, but I'm physically in a place where I can't facilitate any semblance of recovery and can I stay with her for a week or so. Her kids (my close cousins) had just grow up/got married and moved away. Her husband had just died from COVID complications, all alone, in the hospital. Her dog - the only thing she still had left at home - had just died. She said that's fine. Just no alcohol. Which was fine. I didn't want any.

I ended up staying there for a month. My stomach almost immediately fixed itself. I got a library card. I was reading every day, eating healthy, staying sober, and avoiding anything even slightly depressing. I got extremely into meditation. I went on walks for hours every single day. Because my stomach didn't hurt, and I felt safe, and could think, I couldn't be happier. Then I took an antibiotic for.... something medical related. I don't even remember because it immediately brought back the severe stomach issues. I was suddenly nauseous and couldn't think anymore. From 1 tiny little pill. Everything came back. I felt so horribly sick, and the worst part was, everything I was eating was making me extra sick again, and I'd still not been diagnosed with Alpha-Gal, and this is 5-6 years since it started controlling my entire life. I was fighting through it, still saying "yes" to things I didn't enjoy, because that's what you must do to achieve positive spiritual growth. I was just trying to tank all this physical and emotional pain, about to get a job and move on my way, my BIG ex had just randomly texted me, which didn't help my state, and then my aunt lost her mind one day.

She's always had issues with anger and she's a total karen, but I didn't see this coming. One day she started yelling at me about what boils down to personal frustration, and she was letting me have it. Problem is - I won't let you "let me have it," so I asked her what is really bothering her.

She started crying and told me how she "Can't do this anymore," and I told her I agreed: She shouldn't be working 80+ hours every week, avoiding time to process vital emotional grief and healing - only sleeping 4 hours every night, tops, then spending 4 hours in the kitchen when she wasn't working, taking all that time to make 1 salad, even though I always did all of the dishes without ever being asked - so there wasn't anything to clean... I understood she had OCD, and I started to sense when my presence was unwanted.

She said how this is too much. Understandable. But she was putting the weight of her own life on me instead of tackling it. Then she started getting violent and almost punched me in the face as I just stared at this woman, 32 years older than me, with unflinching pity. I asked her if she'd like to sit down, as she was screaming something about Jesus and how I need to be working, when I didn't have a car, wasn't near a business, and felt I was finally becoming an adult. I had made huge strides this month I spent there, sober, with myself, forcing myself to be uncomfortable and learn. Because if not now - when? When it's 10 years later and I have stomach ulcers/cancer and I'm actually dying? No, thanks. I'm over that part, finally. I forgive myself. I forgive my father. I forgive everyone. I wish to move forward through life in a way where I can help others. Hearing her ramblings and logical fallacies aren't benefiting anyone.

I asked her "Why?" ... "Why do you feel this way? Do you feel like I've wronged you in some way? If so, please let me know. That has never been my intention." She didn't really have an answer. She was really fried and out of it. Sad. Lonely. Covered in tears. Same as me. I told her I'd get out of her hair and loved her... It was strange seeing someone who had raised me during my childhood appear as a toddler, stuck emotionally at age 16. I didn't tell her that part.

Luckily, as if planned, I got a phone call from a government-funded housing place. It was in the city. Far from this place. I'd been on the list for 3 years and finally, they'd given me a call, and told me I had a home in a month. It seemed too good to be true.

Turns out it was true, and I got a home, and I got my life together, and I've been sober. I feel like a completely different human than before I got bit by this Lone Star Tick (which is very serious - be careful). But there's one problem.... I'm still fighting a court-case from 2016, where the police officer never showed up over and over and over and over and over again. Then the judge changed over and over and over and over again...

I couldn't even tell you how many thousands of dollars I've thrown at this situation, and how much of my life I've put off, just waiting to hear what stupid hurdles I need to jump through to resolve this so I can leave this place to never return. Getting out of the system is difficult. I've been in it when I was younger and got out just by the skin of my teeth.

This is so strange, because it's for something from so long ago, that I don't remember, the cop doesn't remember, and I don't feel even sort of like the same person.

Back then, I didn't know myself at all. I was angry at the world. I was angry I had to be my mother and my father my entire childhood. I was angry that an RC that didn't harm anyone else is causing me pain right now, 13 years later, and the only reason I got in this bind was trying to escape physical pain. Not even being reckless. Not putting any lives in jeopardy. But I get it. I'd want the same to happen to someone else in my shoes - it's just so weird that all of my money has been spent in vain. My time has been altered by delusions of grandeur whispered in my ears by my attorney.... who's now doing everything pro bono because he says he's never seen this in 25 years of practicing law. At least the anger is gone, I guess. I'm too tired for anger.

So now my only option is to take a plea deal and then I'm going to be required to show up to places at 5a.m. about an addiction that doesn't exist. Gonna have to **** in cups. Gonna have to get my blood drawn. Gonna have to install a breathalyzer in my car that no longer runs because it's been sitting in a field for the past 5 years, because this whole weird thing has taken so long. So there's another-$5,000 on top of ~$20,000, and this is still Phase 1 or 2. Phase 2 lasts 2 years, if I don't mess up, which I won't, because I'm no longer an alcoholic or do any drugs. I've even cut all or those people out of my life lol. So this is just going to be a massive waste of time....

I've been going, of my own volition - to AA/NA, and 3 other meetings on a regular basis, for this entire time, just to be uncomfortable. Now they're very sad. They used to be funny. They're no longer funny. Now, all I see are sick, desperate people, trying to get a piece of paper signed so they can give it to their P.O. so they don't go back to jail or prison and I'm the only one there for fun/growth/understanding/knowledge.

A lot of the times these people are really, really high and/or drunk. Boy, I can't wait to be forced around these people who aren't trying to help themselves. It's gonna be rad telling people for the millionth time I believe in Science, but if believing in Jesus or whatever can help you get to a state of spiritual reprieve, self-acceptance and learning to love yourself and understand Self - and that that behavior isn't intrinsically selfish - then all the power in the world to you. If that helps a concept or idea make sense to you that objectively benefits your life in a positive light that allows you to love yourself, and through that pursuit, allows you to fully be "allowed" to love others in a way where negativity cannot exist - that's super awesome, man!! You've found it. You did the thing.

I don't expect anyone to care or to read this. I'm just venting. I'm not stressed out, bothered, or surprised by anything anymore. I just find this whole situation to be terribly ironic...

I did the thing addicts are afraid to do. I can look at a bottle of poison now and smile as I pour it out. It's not even a thing. I already confronted and fought all my demons. Now I guess I have to go play counselor for 2 years, still stuck in this stupid ******* place. All the while, the creepy meth-head and gang across the hall smoke their souls away.

What does this all mean? It's starting to feel like the Story of Job, and I can't stop laughing. No longer out of shock or misery or pain. Actual laughter. This is too backwards and gone on for too long to even try to take seriously. It just feels like god or the devil is ******* with me.

SproutLife

Thank you for sharing, I read this all the way through, even had to pause to look up some of your references. Chronic pain is probably one of the toughest things life throws at people, its amazing what youve overcome and been through.

LilyLady1

"I did the thing addicts are afraid to do. I can look at a bottle of poison now and smile as I pour it out. It's not even a thing."

This is significant victory. You have overcome so much.

Hopefully, you will see more in meetings that those who want a piece of paper for their PO. Not to say that it's not happening with some. But perhaps you will see some kindred spirits, at least from time to time.

SoberLeigh

Arthox, you have battled the monsters of alcoholism and addiction and won. Be very proud of yourself.

Try to be positive in the mandated AA meetings. Someone may be inspired or influenced by your story.