"re-thread" Of Poems.. Methadone V. Methadone Free

Pain Pills
1
This past July 4th holiday I was in the deepest depression I had ever been in and it was due to my methadone use. I had been wanting off of methadone for years but was terrified that I was going to spend the rest of my life on that God awful drug because I did not possess the strength to ween off of it nor, could I just stop CT like I had in the past, with percocets and hydros. I sat down and wrote the first poem I had ever written trying to encaspsulate my feelings of despair at that moment.

It was because of that deep depression that I found myself in, that I found a way out of the methamadness. That intense depression became my "bottom" that we addicts hear about having to hit before we truly get on the road to recovery. Most bottoms are the result of some event that has occurred in the life of the addict such as a death in the family, getting busted and looking at lots of jail time, losing your spouse and or kids, etc.. I believe as addicts, we all have different and numerous bottoms we hit all along the way while we are in active addiction.

My bottom was fear. A fear of being on methadone for the rest of my life and never feeling pleasure again. I was to the point to where I was living in a world of colors non existent. I was always a nature buff and I did not even want to leave the house. I guess you could say that in 1996 when I took my first 30 mgs of methadone that the nurse behind the window was ultimately handing me my "bottom".

I posted this poem last July at the same time it was being written when I was in that horrible state of depression. The feelings that flowed through me that allowed me to write my first poem ever, were the same feelings that motivated me to get off the methadone. My experience getting off of methadone was horrible, as I spent the first 20 hours in Precipitated Wds and had no idea I was alive or dead.

I was induced with Sub without being in any wd. The Sub I took instantaniously ripped all that methadone off of my opiate receptors sites but was not strong enough to offer sufficient replacement. Hence, the precipitated withdrawals. It was both the worst night of my life and the best thing I have ever done as an addict. After a few days, the precip. wd. fog lifted. I was still in some pretty bad wds but knowing I was methadone free, I wrote a revision to my first poem.

The first poem was written while I was touching bottom and the second poem was written because I could see my way out of that hole. I felt hope for the first time in 10 years as it related to breaking that methadone ball and chain that was around my neck.

I am going to "re-thread", for a lack of better word, the two poems I wrote and posted sometime back. It is my hope that, for those contemplating taking methadone as well as those that are already on it but want a way out, that these two poems will in some way reflect accurately, the despair I felt while on methadone and the hope I felt, when I knew I had regained my power of choice over methadone.

For those of you that have read this before I apologize for the redundancy.

I USED TO WALK WITH HEAD HELD HIGH

I used to walk with my head held high
Now all I do is sit and cry

I used to be full of confidence and hope
But that was before prescription dope

At his point in my life I have nothing but regret
What I would give if I could just forget

There were times past that I would stumble and fall
But wasting this precious gift of Life is the biggest sin of all

Now I walk with my head hung low
Fearful of how the rest of my life will go

If I don't somehow let go of the past
I'm not sure how much longer I'll last

Because of what I've done with my life I feel no one wants in it
But some say it is not how you start but how you will finish

My mom and dad were once so proud of the first born son
But my dad passed away last year without being able to tell me "job well done"

Every night I go outside and look up in the sky
Hoping one day my dad will once again see my head held high

But if I don't somehow find the strength to let go of the past and the pills
All he will see is his son rolling down hill

So God I ask you if there is enough of me left to save
Please give me courage to be strong and brave

I am a good and decent compassionate man
I just can't give myself a helping hand

Father and dad if your listening help me stop the madness.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I USED TO WALK WITH HEAD HELD HIGH ...Revision #1( written after being methadone free but still in some methadone withdrawal nad with Sub on board)

I used to walk with my head held high
Now, once again, I can see the sky

I am full of hope, confidence and remaining strong
Now that I am no longer under the influence of methadone

I am no longer walking with my head hung low
Now in control of how the rest of my life will go

I have no idea how much longer I have to last
But I am sure I do not wish to repeat my past

At this point in my life I have plenty of regrets
But no longer willing to pay the price to just forget

There will be times when I may stumble and keep falling
But not getting up would be more apalling

What I've done with the middle part of my life, no one wants in it
I had a great start, now looking forward to a great finish

Mom and dad were once so proud of their first born son
My dad passed last year before I could once again hear the words 'job well done'

Now I go out at night and look to the skies
Looking my dad right square in the eyes

"Dad", I say, "I have found the strength to let go of the pills"
Thanks to the way you brought me up, it is not all up hill

God, I asked you that if there was enough of me left to save
To give me the courage to be strong and brave

I am a good and decent compassionate man
Thank you for extending me Your helping hand

Father and dad, thanks for listening, I'll be in touch again


JW
2
JW,

Those poems are wonderful. You have a gift with words. I've read some of your other posts and I really think you are talented. I was m-done for 2 1/2 years and I think you put into words what a lot of us feel while on methadone and while coming off it. You should post this on other recovery sites as well because it is so true and so inspirational. Thanks.

Shelly
3
Thank you Shelly for those kind words. I really apreciate them very much.

JW
4
JW...............

your are a beautiful man, filled with a message of HOPE........

i wrote a poem for you..........please dont laugh at me.

POEM FOR JW BY: THUMPER

Look at JW he's grown and grown,
he opened his heart and went to the thrown...

You heard his plea...
gave him strenght, for all to see.......

We sit in awe, and see such hope..........
thank you Lord for helping him, kick the dope...........

We know by now what he is,
a blessing for all,
for those that wanna live...........

thank you.

well..........i am not as good as you........
you are such an inspiration JW........
thank you for blessing my life.


THUMPER
5
Knowing the BIG BEATING HEART(no pun intended) that just wrote that poem makes it even more beautiful. I am a novice poet in every sense of the word and have only written 3 in my life and have shared all of them with the board. My emotions are what penned those poems and I am flattered that I was able to convey those emotions in such a concise way that captured the despair and hope I had at those points in my life.

I promise I did not laugh at your poem. I must confess a big smile came across my face as I read it. The smile arose from the fact that someone would actually care enough about what I have to offer and would make such a wonderful jester to respond to me in that manner.

Keep your fingers crossed for me as I am embarking on a writing course. The course is 17 months long. I had to test before they would accept me. They told me I had some writing ability and while they cannot gaurantee a publishing deal they did offer me a money back gaurantee that by the end of the course or before, I would be able to complete at least two manuscripts suitable to submit to an editor for publishing. If they had of gauranteed a publishing deal, I would have known it was a scam because that is impossibe as that depends on so much more than just writing. They also teach their students how to market their own writings and abilities. The writings they deal with are mostly magazine articles, short stories of the fiction and non fiction type. They market their writers to numerous well known magazines and I have known personally of several people getting a monthly contract to write an article for a magazine each month. Some magazine come out weekly and others come out monthly. But all in all they will teach me how to organize my thoughts and to do character sketches and how to write fiction and non fiction type stories. They wil also help me with my memoirs. Overall I should be able to convey to the reader better, anything I write.

This writing is a long way from the 4 year chemistry degree I obtained while in college. But this addiction has put things in me that I wish to get out but do so in such a way that others who read it will be able to indentify with me whether they have suffered an addiction or not. Most people in this day and age are close to someone that has had a problem even if they have not had the problem directly.

Also with my drug use has come a big gap in my employment resume and I am looking for a career change in a field that can encompass my expertise. Writing about opiate addiction seems a natural way to go. It is either that or go back to school and finish a master's degree and incorporate my addiction into that degree somehow. Such as getting a master's degree in counseling or health education. I have got to do something. I feel time is running out. I am 50 years old and got on pills when I was 30. I was on a fast track at work and all was going well. I should have financial peace of mind and not lay my head on my pillow, worrying to the point of causing myself many many consecutive sleepless nights. I have way too many restless nights trying to figure how to start my life over. And all the while sand is going through the hourglass faster than ever before.

Wish me luck and thanks again,
Jw
6
JW

I remember your story because of your pain. Your Dad - and your baseball connections-

Glad all is well

much respect to you
jack
7
Bump