I never thought in a million years that I would ever write something like this. I hope that it will help someone avoid the living hell which my life is rapidly becoming. I am in real danger of losing everything important to me and most importantly, losing my life because I am an addict and I forgot, in loneliness and pain, to work The Program of Recovery which has been so pivotal in my life for so many years.
On the surface, I do not look like the typical addict. I am well educated (a Master of Social Work from a leading social work graduate school and a Master of Divinity from a prestigious Chicago area seminary). I am a Pastor in a mainline Protestant denomination and a Licensed Clinical Social Worker. I am also an HIV+ gay man. I am also physically handicapped because of an auto accident many years ago. I use under-arm crutches to walk and I can’t keep my balance if I try to lift anything heavy. I have a nice home near the church in a well-to-do suburb and haven’t lost anything material yet because of my addiction to Tina (Crystal). It’s only a matter of time before I do.
I was also a Recovering Addict and Alcoholic in the parlance of Alcoholics Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous, a “double-winner”, with 18 sober and clean years in The Program before I moved down the fast, “slippery slope” back into addiction. Now I am no longer recovering anything.
I know the circumstances and faulty reasoning that brought me here.
Until several months ago, I was in a long-term committed relationship with my husband and we were registered with appropriate city agencies in the community where I live as Domestic Partners. Jimmy (my “ex”) and I were together for many years and I thought it would be “till death do us part”. We agreed to be monogamous and I was completely faithful even in difficult times. In 1999, I contracted HIV from Jimmy, but we stayed together. He was fucking around and lying about it to me, but medical tests don’t lie. Jimmy was also an alcoholic, who was dry because I insisted on it as a condition of our relationship. He was also mentally ill, but managed well in society and at home if he stayed on his prescription medications, was monitored regularly by his psychiatrist and attended his therapy sessions.
Our relationship began deteriorating about nine months ago when I discovered that Jimmy was using Tina. He lost jobs because of unreliability or carelessness (probably related to his meth use). He became violent and unpredictable and he started stealing household items and money to pay for his habits (alcohol, Tina and pornography). Because Jimmy’s temper had become so bad, good friends avoided us. Jimmy, for his part, was insanely jealous which simply isolated us more from friends.
He also became both physically and emotionally abusive and after an intervention by the local police, we ended our Partnership. Two months ago, someone bought him a ticket back to Atlanta (his birth home) and I was left to face the disaster. I probably should have called our Associate Conference Minister and asked for help. I didn’t do that. I freaked out and became more isolated. My life became centered on finding sexual contacts online and letting them bareback me. Some dedicated members of our church and their teens helped me get the house into a semi-manageable position so that I can function better with my disability. Because I literally have a tight ass, I started using poppers to open up (rationalizing that this was not using drugs, although I enjoy the fast head rush that is a side-effect of these). I also started smoking pot to combat nausea caused by my HIV cocktail and some additional medications. Depression aside, I was not eating and was loosing body mass rapidly. There are real, verifiable medical reasons for the severe nausea. My doctor had prescribed Marinol (synthetic THC), but it was so harsh and there is no dose control and off-the-record, my doctor told me to smoke pot so that I could better function in my daily responsibilities.
This had always worked in the past and I never considered it a relapse providing I followed directions and HONESTLY treated it like a medication. Now, however, in my pain, hurt and anger, I sought the high and wanted other highs which would surpass the pot buzz. I also quit going to 12-Step meetings at the precise time when I needed them.
Instead I berated A.A. Orthodoxy and started thinking like an addict again. I only wanted sex with pot smokers or other partiers. I also refused sex with anyone who didn’t bareback when topping. Barebacking has always been a fetish of mine as a bottom. I will do safe if I’m the top, but even there I prefer to bareback and conscious use of chemicals allows me to do things that I usually would not do.
When a guy I met online invited me to come over and try some Tina, I backed off, afraid to cross that line. I kept talking to guys who raved about how great Tina is and wanted to try it badly. I no longer cared about the possibility of addiction or death. I just wanted to live for the high that I heard so much about. Because I’m a Pastor and do many of my daily tasks with nobody supervising, I can get away with things since nobody’s looking over my shoulder. I even make sure that my denominational clergy identification is near by driver’s license in case the police would ever pull me over while I’m carrying or high and with disabled license plates I’m often above suspicion.
I finally tried Tina with an incredibly cute guy and the resulting rush had me hooked at once. Over the last several months, my life has revolved around getting high on Tina and pot and now that I can get it, I want to include acid.
For the most part, I no longer care about a daily spiritual program in my life nor even my responsibilities as a minister and as a licensed clinical social worker. I live for getting high. Even the sex is not so important anymore. It’s now about the high and only about the high. I go through the motions of preaching, conducting bible study, attending meetings, etc. but honestly it’s only because if I lose my job, my income would take a big hit and I’m already overextended. So far over 1/3 of my check goes to Tina not counting other recreational drugs and my cash flow is running low. Bills, for the first time, are going unpaid.
For the first time, I have missed appointments with parishioners or staff of our churches associated mental health services and pastoral care services. When I do go to meetings or hang out with non-partiers, I get testy because I really want to be back with the addicts.
I rationalize this to myself by commenting how accepting hippie/stoners are and loyal and the sense of family that I feel.
I know deep in my heart that this is bullshit. I like addicts because I am a full-blown addict: “once an addict, always an addict” as they say in Program. Non-users have little in common with me anymore and this is even true of people who smoke pot but don’t do Tina.
I’ve already starting lying to accomplish what I want and playing all those old addict games. I often have a real feeling that Hell is not an experience after death but that I am in Hell now. I don’t eat even with pot and I often don’t take my meds anymore. I am so tweaked most of the time that this is now my life. I grumble when I think of doing Sunday Services because it takes away from what has become, in effect, my god. This is soul-death. This is loss of integrity. This is not where I should be. This is never where I wanted to be at least not since I was a young college student. I have been a gay person of faith for many years. In one small way, writing this to you is my act of faith that some how, some way the truth will set you (and me) free. Please, dear reader, please don’t let Tina into your life. Choose freedom, choose life before it’s too late.