The Smell of Dying

by Michele

I have been clean of meth for 5 years. My husband and I got clean together with no help from anybody and nobody knew that we were smoking it every day for 2 years. We needed to keep it a secret from our jobs and families. I was smoking it for 5 years before him. I have a lot of guilt thinking of our children and how we neglected them. They always had food and shelter -- well, almost always shelter. But, that's another story. My husband and I didn't spend any time with our children. Every day it got worse. The guilt was awful. Because of our love for our kids, my husband and I got sober. We got clean and we never looked back. Never. I don't think he even missed it, but, to be honest, I did. It was great to be skinny after years of being fat. The meth was the greatest diet pill ever. But, I managed to keep the thoughts secret from my husband while still managing to stay clean. After two years of being clean, I am honored to accept a position with our outstanding State Nursing Home. As the new Housekeeping Supervisor I have to be around all the chemicals. On my first day as new boss I eagerly reach for the disinfectant for one of my employees. I am immediately assaulted by the smell of burning meth in a glass pipe. All the stuff associated with smoking meth came at me hard and all at once. Memories of my poor little kids knocking on the locked bedroom door wanting to ask me something or show me something and us telling them to talk through the door or slide whatever it is under the door and we "Will look at it later." Images of them taking the shopping cart we stole from the supermarket because it is easier for the kids to go buy the groceries and lug them home in the shopping cart. My husband and I were too busy in our bedmethroom to even take them to get groceries! We would give them money and tell them to go get what they want. Those are the memories that come the hardest. They came so fast and unexpectedly after two years of sobriety I didn't react very well. Gasping, I jumped back and with very shaky arms I thrust the disinfectant at the employee, almost throwing it. He was looking at the tears in my eyes and about to ask me a question when the greatest thing ever happened. I almost retched! Instead I gasped, turned away quickly and ran to the bathroom. I startled him as much as I was startled. Nice first impression. I was so excited on my first day, now I have to endure the smell of the yucky disinfectant for as long as I have the job. I did unsuccessfully try to have that particular disinfectant replaced by another less caustic one. I am thankful though that I had that reaction. Now I know I will not succumb to the thoughts of doing the drug. For sure, I will stop having thoughts of doing the drug for I know the smell is intolerable to me now. Yay! As for the disinfectant, it became an almost daily reminder of my success in becoming clean and sober and staying that way. I had to relocate with my husband to another town when the economy went over the cliff, so I no longer work there but I know, because of that constant smell reminder I am free. I am liberated. What a positive outcome I got from a smell. Go figure.

Comments for The Smell of Dying

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Jan 07, 2017
one addict to another NEW
by: Anonymous

i know addiction well and your story is genuine and thats what makes it powerful. Ive experienced many of the same things. this illness rears its ugly head in many ways and comes at you from many angles, smell of your drug of choice is a trigger but its your mind you need to beware. addicts all hate to feel negative emotion and life deals us alot learn to live with your pain and deal with it and thats all it is . easier said than done i know.

excellent all the best my friend

Sep 12, 2014
oh MY! NEW
by: Anonymous

Oh my- now that is powerful story telling- and guts to write it out for publishing! Kudos!

Jul 14, 2012
My Story NEW
by: Anonymous

Thank you for reminding me of all the dark painful moments of neglect that I've been found guilty. All the countless hours, weeks and years that I've forced my innocent child to endure and suffer through the pain. It must be as overwhelming for him if not more due to the not knowing what's happened or where his daddy's gone. Times like these a tragic story triggers emotions I used to feel naturally. Now completely unaware, it takes all I have just to shed a few tears. The guilt is unbearable. I've seen what I created, the wake of destruction, devastation and despair. Lost time and memories instead of precious moments shared. To cherish is difficult when you've lost your desire to care. This addiction has taken more than I ever imagined, in a course of 5yrs and frequent heavy usage, it's a miracle I have life, and my child still has any respect for me. I want nothing more than to stay sober but every attempt thus far has been unsuccessful ;( I really need help but don't know where to turn.

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