Pills were expensive.   And now that Ger was living with me it was double.  I no longer had to come up with $30 for a fix, we had to come up with $60.  As if that wasn't enough, $30 each wasn't enough to do the trick anymore. There was no more "Oh well, we can survive a night of being sick".  It was "We CANNOT be sick....it's too painful....what do we do to get what we need". The infatuation with Ger was still there, but life was becoming stressful in my head. I loved him very much.  As we spent more time together I got to know him more.  He had demons of his own that he was battling.  He had lost his parents at a young age, not too young, but as a young teen.  He had never processed the grief.   It was something that came up quite often.   He had some deep wounds and had a very hard time dealing with them.  He was angry.  He missed his parents. He felt jipped out of his time he got with them.  It hadn't been ...

Rehab life.  I don't quite know how to describe it.  It worked for me.  Thank God. Back then there were some wonderful and amazing people behind the scenes and up front.  This group of counselors and higher ups knew what was up.  They were in it for the win.  For us.  They fought hard to help us attain our sobriety, and to help us address our underlying issues head on and teach us the skills to maintain when we were to be out on our own. It wasn't sugar coated and it wasn't easy.  My counselor saved my life.  Without a doubt....100%. We lived a very routined life inside those walls.  Up at 7. (6:30 if you wanted a morning smoke) Those of us who were true smokers  would get up at 6:30 a.m. and bundle up (it was winter in Oregon) and go  outside in the freezing cold and dark and choke down cigarettes to start our day out. I remember putting boots on, jackets, and wrapping ourselves up in our bed comforters.  Then shower a...