Even in sobriety I feel powerless many times. I wouldn't say I feel powerless all the time like I did when I was smoking meth, drinking, taking fistfulls of pills etc.

When I was using drugs, everything in my life revolved around getting the drug. Selling everything in my apartment didn't phase me; selling my most prized possessions: a Breitling watch and Gibson custom guitar were casualties to my powerlessness. I couldn't stop myself. I was completely out of control. I was way past a state of weakness. I was on the ground and meth was kicking the shit out of me everyday. I smoked it out of a glass little pipe and I sat on my computer wasting my time. I walked to CVS to get cat food, because at least I wasn't dead inside, and I knew that if my cat didn't eat he would die.

Hours turned to days, days turned into a week and running on fumes I realized that I myself had to eat. So, some seven days of smoking meth I would order a pizza, eat as much as I could and pass out for days -- sometimes two or three days of sleep. Just dying and abandoning everything in my life.

All responsibilities, be it work for clients, water for my cat, visit my dying grandparents or paying my electric bill, went to hell. I fucking didn't care. I wanted meth, and when biology said my body couldn't take it anymore I had to conceed. That was the only time I would conceed.

What power did I have? None. I had to steal from my family to pay rent. I had to beg to pay my bills, and yet I was selling large quantities of drugs. Where did that money go? Right back into the product I was selling. I was my best customer. I would have $10,000 in cash one day and a few days later I wouldn't have money to pay for coffee. I simply couldn't stop.

I knew in the back of my mind that I was fucking up. I KNEW that what I was doing would catch up with me, yet day after day I used. Day after day I stole I sold and I brought havoc to those who loved me. I became a monster and I couldn't stop it. I was utterly powerless. I couldn't stop.

Sanity and a Power Greater Than Myself

I cut holes in my pants to smuggle meth around the city of Dallas. I invited homeless people into my apartment. I beat a man nearly to death (although to this day I believe given the circumstances he deserved what he got). I scared my own mother to the point that she was afraid to have me in her apartment alone. I stole from my grandparents who have cancer and MS. I cheated on the love of my life. I tried to sell a $10,000 server my father lended to me to help me further my business opportunity. I put my parents through a hell I will never know. I sold a drug that could have landed me 30+ years in a federal prison. I was committed to 4 different mental hospitals and given every drug psychiatry has to prevent me from killing myself. By all accounts, I was insane

What could save me? What in the fucking world could restore my mind to what it was? I, a chemistry major at one of the best universities for science in the state of Texas, lost my mind. I was scared. I wondered if I had done irreversible damage. Damage that wouldn't be undone.

Well, I sit here now, coherently writing an acccount of what has occurred in my life, and I can confidently say now that my mind is healing. I am making better decisions. I don't always make the best decisions, but I am no longer insane. I can see my faults, my shortcomings and admit them. What is the reason for this? What is different now? People.

People around me, the people who loved me through that hell, the people who talked me off the ledge, call me and check up on me, the ones who give enough of a shit to stay around in my life are the ones responsible for my existence today. They are responsible for my restoration to a sane state of mind and they are responsible for every breath I take, because without people in my life I would have died a while ago. I would have jumped in front of a bus (something I fantasized about often), stuck a gun in my mouth, or just run my body to a state that was fatal.

This collective power has kept me alive, and brought me out of the hell that I had created for myself. I love those people and always will for what they have done for me. I am able to see the good in this world now, and they showed it to me.