A sad state of affairs, this place could use a little repair...

I could say I am surprised, but then that would be a lie, I get home today from having an amazing evening with some friends to hear that they are canceling the meeting at my rehab, because they “allowed” me to take a cake there. I can understand them going on the record as being against my taking a cake, but to cancel a meeting that a lot of people depend on is just so fucking sad. Some of these people who have positions of “power” in recovery really let those positions get to their heads. I was going to take someone's advice and just stay quiet, and go to my meetings and get what I need from them and thats it, but that would be denying who I really am. People are just so fucking stupid with power sometimes!

I had an amazing session with my therapist today, which really cleared up a lot of things. I told him everything that had gone on this last week, with my controversy and to say he was enraged would be an understatement, this is a man who has 20+ years of sobriety, so it's not like he's someone ignorant to what 12 step programs are about. He likened those who are so angry about my taking a cake to people who wanted to pass Proposition 8, and extremist bible thumpers; who think that their way is THE way the program should be, when there is NOTHING in the 12 steps or traditions that mentions anything along these lines, as a matter of fact there is nothing in any of the books that even mentions celebrations of sobriety milestones. People say that drinking a glass of wine, or beer here and there is still affecting your head from thinking clearly. With that argument we should also be free of cigarettes, coffee, food, sex, should people who overindulge or stuff their feelings in addictive ways be prevented from taking cakes too? “Last week you shared about those 12 anonymous loads you took in a bush so you shouldn't take a cake, because that wasn't sober behavior” could be an argument made under that guise. It is just enraging to me how self important people who have time can be.

I will also repeat something I have said before, would you like me to start putting out lists of people who I KNOW for a fact have had alcohol, and even meth for that matter who have taken cakes for YEARS, when they barely have one under these small minded rules!? I am practicing MY PROGRAM of honesty, maybe the answer is to do what NYC does, not have sobriety milestones celebrations, how would you like THAT!? Then you would take away from all those new comers who have no idea what this lame bullshit debate is all about, people who have one or two days still coming down off of meth who see us bickering over somebody taking a cake!!?? A GOD DAMN CAKE!! You are more than welcome to use me as a cautionary tale if you want after I take a cake, tell them how my program is wrong all you want, but I am secure in the fact that I have not put a needle, pipe, straw, bump full of meth anywhere near me in over a year, and HURRAH for that! I am going to school, and taking care of business! So go ahead and put my program down all you want, I could really give two shits about what you have to say about it.

Imagine this scenario, a newcomer goes to his first meeting EVER, he is tired of getting fucked up on meth, his life has clearly become unmanageable and pathetic because of this horrendous drug he has been putting in his body for years, he doesn't think that alcohol is a problem for him, he hasn't really thought about drinking as an escape from his problems or feelings, he simply likes a glass of wine with dinner or the occasional Cosmo. He comes into a room where he expects love and kindness and help for his meth problem, but people keep yelling at him that he has to do it their way, or ELSE; so this guy doesn't come back into a meeting, and maybe he stays off meth for a bit, but he doesn't have a group of friends who know what he is going through, no one to share with when he craves that meth pipe every night, someone to call with his problems, so he just goes back to getting high over and over again. This should be a program of love and ACCEPTANCE, and it pains me to think that some people may not get the opportunity to make their lives better because somebody disagrees with the way I do MY program.

The end, is so much harder, when brought about by friends...

So as I mentioned yesterday, 8 years ago today I did something that forever changed my life. It was the day after we were attacked in NYC, the reality of it was slowly settling in. I had been partying recreationaly by then for about a year and a half now, keep it to once or twice a month at the most, and only on weekends. I was dealing with depression, though I hadn't started taking medicine for it. I was severely depressed and the tragic events had made me loose all faith and hope in humanity. I remember vaguely going to “party” with some hot little muscle boy on the Upper West Side for a while, but then I got a phone call from a friend of mine who lived in this palatial West Village penthouse, we had partied many times together, and he had offered to slam me many times before (slam is slang for shooting up, or injecting a drug intravenously) I had declined him, as I didn't want to be one of those kind of junkies; but as what little self respect and love that I had left inside me weakened I accepted his offer this time, and so began the beginning of my downward spiral. I remember feeling that first rush, how overwhelming it was, how “right” it felt, how I had finally found nirvana. Looking back on that day, I thankfully have mostly disgust rumbling around my body and mind. I often wonder where my life would have been had I never taken that first hit off the needle, but I never regret it, as it has brought me on the journey that I am on today.

Back then, I felt like I had joined an exclusive club. It's funny to me that before I shot up I looked at those who did as the lowest of the low, and felt such pity and disgust for them, but as soon as I became one of them, my feelings changed. Not that I felt that now that I was one of them, they weren't so bad, but the fact was that I was so proud of myself to be the lowest of the low. I can't believe how much my mind was warped by that awful drug. I am so happy to not be in that frame of mind anymore, but to be proud of where I am today, METH FREE for over a year now, it is so much clearer for me today that NO ONE, can fucking take that away from me. NO ONE!

This video, takes me back to college, one year before these tragic events, it's of a simpler time in my life. Here is Skid Row, with I Remember You!

I'm not gonna take it, NO I ain't gonna take it, I'm not gonna take it...ANYMORE

Oh what a night, I hadn't planned on going to a meeting at my old rehab, much less taking a cake for one year off of meth at it, but seeing my good friend and supporter James there, inspired me to do so, and what a decision THAT turned out to be.

So as all of you know, I have had some drinks in the last year or so, I haven't hidden it, in fact I wasn't caught, I told on myself when I did drink. So I have been very open, and honest about the fact that I have drunk in the last year and week. So, as I was in the kitchen unpacking my cake, I was pulled aside by the secretary of the meeting, who had been approached by a number of people who didn't think I should be allowed to take a cake at this meeting. My inner addict wanted to RUN the fuck out of there, but I was given a tool in this program called contrary action. So I sat my ass down, and let God take it into his hands. After the speakers both shared their experience, strength and hope the meeting came to a screeching halt as we spent 15 minutes debating on whether or not I should take a cake. I was honestly ready to not take a cake, but surprisingly when the vote came up the majority voted for me to take my cake. It was so surreal to me that this was going on, I mean never before had I seen anybody's sobriety being voted on. It was so funny to me that people got to vote on my taking a cake, where I was honest about what I have done in the last year. I know of plenty of people who have taken cakes for years of sobriety and I know for a fact that they have had alcohol, and even meth. I decided to be honest and take my cake because to me it is a huge accomplishment. I am extremely proud of what I have done in this past year, and it surprises me how little it matters to me what other people think of me, and my program. In fact having half the meeting centered around me and MY program, really gave me quite the ego boost, which I need to get back in check because the world does NOT revolve around me. I am truly grateful for what occurred tonight, and it has indeed strengthened my spirit, and my self esteem.

OMIGOD, OMIGOD YOU GUYS! I am one!

So my one year off meth was last Sunday, and I sort of chickened out to go to the meeting I usually go to on Monday to take a cake for one year, but I finally got my balls back on Wednesday and decided to take a cake then, I also took a cake tonight at the meeting I started last November. It has been a great eye opening experience for me, to finally have my balls and bravery enough to go into a room with people who disagree with me, and judge me for my program, and take a cake and acknowledging that a year ago August, 30th I stopped getting fucked up on meth. It was truly an amazing experience having my mother, and sister here sharing with me their pride in me, they brought out a side of me that I hadn't seen in a while.

Something came to mind sometime this week while I was on my cake tour, and that is that not once in this whole year had I come close to doing meth. The last time I had a year, I had gone to my dealer's house twice, I went over to hang with someone who was using in order to get high once, and also I put a pipe in my mouth once, but thank God that the torch was out of gas, so I couldn't light it. This year I have had focus, and a purpose in life, and it has just been an incredible and amazing year. I am truly grateful for my cleanliness and the path that I am on now.

So I haven't posted a video in a while, and since it was my birthday I will be the musical theater dork that I am and love to be, last week on Tuesday I went to go see Legally Blonde: The Musical and I was expecting it to be mediocre and totally tacky, but it surprised me, very much like the movie it had a heart and some cute acting, so here is the opening number from it which I LOVE!

Memories...from the corners of my mind...tweaky, hazy colored memories...

February 10th, 2008 was a big day for me...26 days earlier I had celebrated my 1 year off of crystal meth...in jail ( I was in there for my second DUI). I of course was very upset at having spent my first ever one year off crystal meth in jail, without my friends around to support me. I had become quite estranged from meetings because people were judging me for still drinking (let's leave that little issue for another day, shall we?) Anyway, here I was a couple of weeks back out in the real world, feeling fat and ugly ( I had gained about 30 pounds over my normal 145 non tweaker weight) I hadn't been validated by a man in a long while and I had decided to go to the Faultline, my favorite leather bar, to drown my sorrows with tequila and dollar beer. On the bus ride over this gorgeous stocky muscle-y hunk of a man kept looking back at me, and I of course right back at him. We both got off at the same stop, and walked into the same bar. I was floored...never had a man so gorgeous looked at me the way this man did. For the next couple of hours we would give each other looks from across the room, and I kept downing beer after beer and shot after shot, trying to build up some liquid courage to go up and start talking to this guy.

5 beers and 3 cuervo shots later I finally went up to him and began flirting heavily with him, I can't really remember how the conversation went, but I do remember his proposal. “Do you wanna go down to Flex ( a bathhouse 3 blocks down, which by the way I had never been to) and party?” Now for those of you who don't know “party” in the gay world is code for doing drugs. I could not have said “yes” any quicker...we stumbled over to Flex, at which I paid for BOTH our entrances, got us a big “fancy” room with a TV, and being both free of drugs, went about a search to find some meth. He succeeded and proceeded to invite me in to hang with this (I guess) cute Asian guy (I say I guess, because I am mostly attracted to white guys, and SOME Latin guys) and off to the races we went. We partied up a bit, and I proceeded to buy some of his stash from him, we got fucked up together in my room and if I recall correctly, he kinda went on his way.

This pattern with this guy continued time and time again, we would see each other at the baths and he would come hang with me in my room share my drugs, find someone to play with us, and then just leave. Cut to 7 months or so after that first day, and I am on my first or second week at rehab. I go to a meeting, and who do I see sitting at a picnic table in front of the meeting room? This guy indeed, he again gave me a flirty look, and my heart melted. We chatted briefly after the meeting, and went on our separate ways ( I had deleted his number from my phone as he was someone I “partied” with) until today.

I am on the bus, coming home from a long exhausting day at school, and who steps onto the bus 4 stops before I have to get off? This lovely guy, we chatted about sobriety, and what was going on with our lives, but then I had to get off the bus to go home. I haven't stopped thinking about him all day, and thanks to Google I found his full name and added him as a friend on Facebook...thoughts of a sober romance have been floating through my mind since I saw him, but as I sat down to write this I suddenly remembered....he was kind of vanilla when we were high...and usually people loose all inhibitions when they get high, so if he was a prude vanilla boy high, I can only imagine what he is like sober. It was a nice little fantasy though, it did help me remember the sort of door mat and people pleaser I was for the last few years, and it is great to see in myself the growth I have made, that I no longer have to compromise who I am as a sober man, as a sexual being, or in any other way. YAHY! Go me!

Your all alone, and so peaceful until...

I had quite the trying afternoon/evening...I was in WeHo picking up my meds from my pharmacy and I decided to meet up with a good friend of mine who relapsed last weekend. I figured I would be OK since he had told me he had been back to some meetings. We met up at Starbucks for some coffee and sat down to chat for a bit. I love him to death, so I wanted to be there for him in what I thought was his time of need.

The first thing I noticed were the track marks in the creases of his arms, just staring at me, enticing me in that dark evil way things of that nature do. He didn't look bad at all, which was the first thing I sort of grabbed onto in my head. Like “oh, he got fucked up and he doesn't look bad at all...” I asked how he was doing, and the usual questions returnees get “why'd you do it?” .“was it worth it?”, “how bad did it get?” etc. And he proceeded to go on and on about how fabulous it was. How the guy he hooked up with was someone he met on craigslist, and some drop dead gorgeous porn star. How he proceeded to join him in the bedroom after the guy exclaimed “wow, you've got some nice veins...” He got shut up with meth and heroin (this was a guy who just took a cake for 2 years, and who also by the way I used to use with a couple of years ago) and then had some hot nasty sex with the guy, and they even hired an escort to share. As he went on regaling me with his story, I felt myself get aroused. My head was telling me to make him stop, but I guess the disease in me won over, cause I just let him go on and on about how fabulous it was. I tried to get a good answer to “tell me the bad stuff, and why you decided to come back to the rooms?” but he gave no good answer, so I was not able to close the book on my fantasies.

I have constant memories about hanging out with the dealer, and walking up to some new tricks' place and discovering the evil twisted nasty things we would have in common. I wish there was a switch I could just hit to turn these thoughts off. I made up some excuse that I had to get back home to make dinner, which was untrue, I just needed to get out of there as quickly as possible because I found myself staying aroused and fantasizing about a relapse. I thank God that I am in the situation that I am in, living in a sober living, where I am held accountable and where everyone would immediately know I have relapsed. That there is nowhere for me to go if I relapse, my family would disown me, I wouldn't have anyone to stay with, and no money of my own to live off of.

I have been talking to friends, sharing at meetings, anything to try and just get those thoughts out of my system, I hope this overwhelming feeling dies down soon enough, because it really is taking over my head and I don't wanna go back there.

As real as it may seem...it was only in my dreams...

So I have no shame in saying that I relapsed last night...in my dreams...it's been a LONG while since I had a using dream, and it feels weird. The weird part is that I didn't feel remorse in my dream, I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it, but when I woke up I did breath a sigh of relief knowing where I was, and that I was safe, right next to my kitty. I have no desire to relapse on meth, a drink still sounds terrific to me, and if I weren't living in a sober living I would TOTALLY have a glass of wine with dinner, or a beer at a bar. Lots of people in the program look down on that, and I understand where they are coming from, I know that alcohol can lead to drugs. It did twice for me, once being the first time I did crystal meth and the second time being the last relapse I had, but I feel that it was actually alcohol paired with a low self esteem that drove me back to meth. Also, alcohol hasn't exactly been my greatest friend, I do have two DUI s, but anyway who knows!? Am I an alcoholic? Maybe, maybe not...but that is not something I am going to be testing anytime soon...for now I shall enjoy using in my dreams only, and leave it at that.

What have you done today to make you feel proud? It's never too late to try

What an amazing day for me today, 6 months and one day ago I was all cracked out in my garbage infested apartment, having been locked in there for 2 weeks with only 4 hours of sleep total, and I have to thank my family for helping to get the old me back. You see when I was all cracked out, I had definitely lost my true self, I didn't remember half the lyrics to some of my favorite pop and Broadway songs, I couldn't care about season finales of shows, THATS how I knew that I was so far gone! But thanks to my mother calling my sister, and then her and her husband showing up at my door telling me they loved me and wanted me to just get better, that was my moment of clarity, my A-HA moment as Oprah would say, where I knew that it all had to come to an end. Cut to 6 months later, I am three months into hair school, I have TONS of friends who I love, and who love me. I've unfortunately had to see some of them go back out there, but I no longer revolve around their lives and all I can do is pray for them, and love them, and not try and rescue them anymore; at least not to the point where I am jeopardizing my sobriety.

I picked an amazing sponsor because of what he has, and not because I thought he was hot. I am totally being of service, I have started a CMA meeting that is a success, I have trained, and will soon start volunteer work for the CMA Help Line.

I have also found a greater connection with my higher power, in a totally new level. But most importantly I have become my true self, I am an improved version of the old Gerson. I have the same spirit, sense of humor, charisma but now I am equipped with this amazing sense of self esteem, I am proud of who I am, I am proud of where I've come and I know where I am going. Today is a great day for me, I could not feel any happier, and I wanna thank all those people in my life who are there for me when I need them.

And since I've already shared the video for the original version I will give props to the version that introduced me to this post's title...the final scene of Queer as Folk, one of my favorite shows, and yet another example of my Mary (Brian)/Rhoda (Michael) reference.

It's so hard to say goodbye, to yesterday...

I had a very sad night last night, yesterday I had found out that my best friend was seen at a meeting in town (he usually lives in Palm Springs) I had finally badgered him into picking me up after my usual 6 o'clock meeting, which he did. I was looking forward to it all day, so when he picked me up we drove around for a while and sat down for a couple of drinks (non alcoholic of course), first of all he was skinny as all hell and looked like shit, don't get me wrong he looked good for a drug addict, but it wasn't the same best friend that I totally fell head over heels for almost 6 months ago. He wasn't laughing as much as he had before, and was just not all there. He proceeded to inform me that the only reason he was in town was because last night he drove in from Palm Springs to go to the Hollywood Spa (a popular bathhouse here in town) and that after being there for 16 hours he went to a coffee shop to send out resumes (read: go online to get some more dick) this coffee shop is close to this place called the Log Cabin, where a lot of the popular West Hollywood 12 step meetings occur. He was sitting at his computer, “sending out resumes” and kept seeing people from the program he took that as a God shot telling him to go to a meeting. Anyway halfway through our little rendezvous he started getting texts one after the other one, and then he started looking at his watch. He finally said that he had to go, because the guy who's couch he was crashing on (though earlier on in the night he had told me he was going home after our little meeting) had to go to bed early (read : I need to get high and fucked again)...as we were heading back to the car, I jokingly said “if your in THAT big of a hurry you can just drop me off at a 711 a couple of blocks away and then I could walk the rest of the way home (which in reality wasn't that big of a walk, but seeing as he was in a hurry to get rid of me to get high, I was truly hurt) anyway he begrudgingly drove me home. As he parked next to my house, I grabbed his face made him stare into my eyes, and told him I loved him, and that I would be there for him whenever he needed me, he did NOT want to hear/see me. I walked out a broken man, I proceeded to call my friends who were very supportive and loving, they did what they needed to do...listen to me. It was very healing for me to be heard, and to let my emotions out! It was also brought to my attention that I probably did the exact same thing when I was high, which is so true. My friends, family, work were the last thing on my mind when I was getting fucked up, so I guess it was a taste of my own medicine, and let me tell you I didn't enjoy it very much. So I wrote him a long email letting him know that I could not see him in that condition anymore, that it hurt me to see him that way, and that it hurt to be less important than some stranger with drugs and cock. Anyway it has been quite cathartic to write this, and I am feeling a lot better.

Have you ever been low? Have you ever had a friend who let you down so?

In working the 12 steps, the first one is to admit I am powerless over crystal meth. I have done so with no problem whatsoever, that is a total given, the hard thing for me to do is to realize that I am powerless over my friends' actions. I find my self in a couple of situations where I want to tell people what to do, or rescue them, but it just wouldn't be right for me to do so.

First one is with one of my friends, he is truly somebody really close to me, I love him to death, but the god damn disease of addiction has overrun him again. He sees no light at the end of the tunnel, he wants to quit, but he doesn't feel like he can. I can totally identify deeply with his struggle, I have been in his position many times, and it was only for the grace of God that I was able to get back. I want to just slap him upside the head and get some sense back into him, but alas that would not be a safe place for me, as I might be tempted when I see him all fucked up. So I have to just let it go, and pray that he gets back here sooner rather than later and in somewhat healthy conditions.

The second situation is one of my other closest friends (I sure know how to pick 'em) he relapsed a couple of weeks ago with his boyfriend, luckily it only lasted for a couple of days and not months or years like me. After one day of tweeking his insanity came right back, everyone around him saw this. So thanks to his little run he has a clearer picture of what he wants to do with his life (i.e. stay sober, focus on work, getting some stable friendships) the sad part is that his boyfriend is a functioning tweeker, there is hardly any psychosis and he can go about regular menial things with no problem, so he has decided to keep tweeking. At first he tried to hide this, explaining that he forgot to let his boyfriend know where he was at ( for 12 hours), and that even though he was at his dealer's house he was not using, he was merely helping him paint. The poor sap believed him at first, but when he did this a second time he had told me that he couldn't believe that he could've fallen for that crap. To make all of this even better, their roommate has also relapsed and has proceeded to go extremely crazy. My poor friend didn't know what to do. His friends and loved ones told him to get out of there immediately, to stay with sober friends until he can figure out what to do next. This was the plan we had concocted before I went to school yesterday, but then I called him after school to see if he wanted me to stop by and visit for some cheering up, and his boyfriend was there, and it seemed like business as usual “ no no, he's fine, we're fine, I'm good thanks...”

Yes I know that none of this is ANY of my business, but I do care for these two men so much, they have so much potential in them to be great contributing members of society, and the rescuer in me wants to get in there and fix it all, but my priorities are different now. I have to take care of myself and my sobriety first and foremost. So I decided to merely vent my frustrations out on here hoping that it may lift any anxiety I may have stemming from this.

Ground control to Major Thom!

Hi my name is Gerson, and I'm a scifi geek. (group mumbles: “Hi Gerson”)
So I am SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO excited because in just a few hours the first of ten new and final episodes of one of my favorite TV shows of all time begins, Battlestar Galactica! Now you may look at me and think how the hell did this showtune hairdressing queen ever get to be a scifi geek?
Let's start with the fact I was first addicted to Stargate:Atlantis; that came about because I have this weird connection to a lot of water related phenomena, like Titanic, and Atlantis. So when I heard a show called Stargate: Atlantis was starting on the SciFi channel a couple of years ago I tuned in, and got hooked immediately. I wasn't a big scifi geek as a child, I mean I enjoyed Star Wars like any kid does, but that was about it. While my best friend and his friends would play Dungeons and Dragons and watch anime, I would be watching MTV and prancing around to Madonna and showtunes. But I digress, Stargate: Atlantis came on, and I was hooked, that led me to start catching up on the Stargate SG-1 shows I had missed (almost 7 seasons) and was pretty much hooked on those immediately as well.
So fast forward to about 3 years ago or so ,my New Years Eve plans of endless tweeking were shattered by my health. Crystal Meth had obviously fucked my body up to such an extreme that I was bed ridden for two weeks. ANYWHOO I had returned all my netflix movies and hadn't gotten back any in time for New Years Eve, and so as I am flipping through the channels and stopped because I saw an ad for Stargate: Atlantis on the SciFi channel, after it was done I notice I have stumbled upon a show recapping the first season of Battlestar Galactica, and I fall in love immediately.
Of course being a big ol' fag, I love all the drama it has in it, but I feel that it's much more than just a bunch of humans and robots fighting in outer space. I feel that the writers have done such a beautiful job of incorporating real life situations into this scifi universe. I mean their parallel of the insurgents suicide bombers on New Caprica was a brilliant mirror to what was going on around the world at the time. Something that hit close for me was when humans had partnered up with cylons, and how they were ostracized, I'm not sure that the writers were trying to make it a gay parallel, but as a gay man I sure did take it that way.
On that note, I do wish that scifi had some frackin gay characters for christ's sake! I mean, it doesn't have to be a big storyline, like the usual “special episodes” that TV shows do, and then the gay characters are never to be heard of again! Just incorporate a gay citizen, and have him go about doing the usual space-y things. That would be a refreshing take on sci phi for me. But for now I will settle for my last ten episodes of Battlestar, and wonder what the hell I'm gonna watch after it's done since Atlantis has also signed off. I guess I'll just have to look forward to the new Star Trek movie. Anyway may the Gods bless us with a great couple of episodes!

Who am I anyway? Am I my resume? That is a picture of a person I don't know...

I am a 29 year old gay (hence the Chorus Line reference above) jewish (hence the OY) puertorican (hence the PAPI) living in Los Angeles, CA. I am also HIV and HEP C positive, and a crystal meth addict in recovery.
A little history about me, I was technically born in Bogota, Colombia (South America) I was immediately adopted by Alan and Marilu Rapoport of San Juan, Puerto Rico; so even though I was born in Colombia I consider myself puertorican because that is where I was raised. My childhood was great, I was the youngest of three ( I have one sister Millie, and one brother Willie) , the baby of the family, and therefor quite the spoiled boy. My parents have always been supporting of everything, my artistic tendencies and then the gay thing when they found out. I went to an arts boarding school in Natick, MA to study musical theater; after graduating high school I tried a year of college at Wagner in Staten Island, NY; that didn't last for long. I tried a conservatory in Manhattan as well, but nothing seemed to stick with me.
I then fell into the club world by mistake, I started handing out fliers for a party called 1984 in the East Village, from there I became assistant to Chip Duckett (the promoter) in his PR firm; at some point after that we came up with this idea for a party where straight out pop of the day was played, NO REMIXES EVER! We called this little idea Pop Rocks! , I being the most knowledgeable in current pop music was delegated to DJ, after a couple of months in the basement at the Pyramid Club, we moved to Flamingo East where the party grew and grew and soon became THE it party for college boys and their fag hags, we got written up in all kinds of magazines, we were even mentioned on VH1 and Rolling Stone. Anyway while my life looked fabulous to anyone who looked at me, I had been exposed to cocaine by my friends and co-workers; which one infamous night in 1999 led me to being introduced to cyrstal meth at a bathhouse in NYC. I quickly fell in love with it, and was able to handle it quite well for a good couple of years. Then September 11th happened, I grew weary of the world we were living in and began using more heavily, also I had moved in with my boyfriend of the time Michael, who I felt was my soul mate to the point where I proposed to him, which he sort of accepted. Looking back on it we didn't know much about each other to have made such a big step, which I guess maybe he figured out because he decided to move back to New Jersey. After he left, my drug use escalated immensely, to the point where I had start shooting up; and let me tell you after I did so...all bets were off, my life quickly began to crumble.
NYC was kicking my ass, and I pulled what they call in AA/CMA a geographic, I moved to LA in September 2004 where I did my first stint at rehab. I managed to weasel my way out of there (since my parents were paying for my whole life at this point) and began using again for almost 3 years. I came back to sobriety in January 15th of 2007. I managed to stay crystal meth free for one year one month and one week, somewhere in the middle of this sobriety I decided I wasn't an alcoholic and started to drink again, this worked for a while but soon caught up with me in the form of two DUI's. Anyway so in February of 2008 I decided to go ahead and start tweeking again, I was out this time till August 29th.
My new life began when I heard a knock on the door to my trashy west hollywood apartment, and finding my sister and brother in law at my door, telling me that I needed to do something about my problem, their love and support was my moment of clarity and I thank God for them and my parents every day, without them I wouldn't be where I am today. I threw away all my drugs and paraphernalia on August 30th, and I checked into rehab on September 2nd ,the same one I had attended previously, and after graduating 2 months later, I moved into their sober living. On December 1st I began attending The Aveda Institute to work towards getting my cosmetology license . So what the hell will my blog be about? Well it'll be my diary, where I will try to keep as honest as possible. I will blog about recovery, life in sober living, school, friends, family, music, dance, theater,politics, TV, my struggles in finding a man, in finding a job, in dealing with bitches in the program...ANYTHING that comes to my mind that particular day I am blogging, it may be trivial or it may be insightful, who the hell knows? As you can tell I am not the best writer in the world, but i'm working with what I got, and if ONE person gets something out of it then it will be worth it.