It has been awhile since I posted in here and felt that today I needed to document my first dip dream which I had last night. I see why they are so infamous now. It really is a reminder to me of how powerful of a drug we are addicted to that it can have this much of a handle on our brains and to this day, fills so much conscious and semi-conscious thought even though I haven't touched it for 85 days now.
The dream started out just as I was making a split quick decision to stuff a wad in my face. I'm pretty sure it was a can that I had just purchased. No preceding thought was given. Now I immediately felt guilty, but I didn't take it out right away. Instead I only remember contemplating how I would handle caving, all while having a fucking cancerous cat turd in my lip. Would I fess up and cause disappointment in a number of supporters? I could hear the comments, I could feel the guilt and disappointment as if it actually happened. Would I lie and justify in my head it was just one, a minor slip, and go on adding +1 next to my name? Considering this path left all of the burden on me, but I knew, as much as I wanted to spare my brothers pain, that I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I was living a complete lie. Even though I would continue to put my name on this coveted list each day, I'd still be back into isolation, trying to quit on my own because of the burden I put on myself and the distance it created. We all know how well "quitting" on your own goes. I knew I needed to fess up, but I wasn't sure if I had the balls. I could sense the tremendous weight of the guilt associated with living a lie.
For some reason the dream just skipped ahead, and now I was receiving a few gifts in an unfamiliar apartment or something, maybe a birthday. I don't remember any of the people or gifts except getting a cigar from my dad. I had the exact same uneasy feeling I got when this actually happened at a wedding a couple of months back. Now my dad is aware that I've quit and while he still smokes cigars he knows I'm taking a no nicotine approach and wouldn't gift me a cigar as he respects my quit and is supportive, although we don't really talk about it. I remember leaving this apartment and next thing I knew I was smoking a completely un-enjoyable cigarette on the common balcony area of this apartment building. The balcony/stairs was a wood construction with common area platforms. I was still contemplating my decision, but I felt as though I was leaning towards being a total fucking pussy and pretending nothing happened. I remember flicking that cancer pole off the side of the balcony, but didn't look at what was below. In slow motion I vividly recall I moved the few feet to the edge and peered down to see it tumbling down and then landing in mulch. I don't remember actually seeing the mulch flame up like it was soaked in lighter fluid, but I got the sense it was about to. Then I woke up.
I was definitely a little freaked out by how real everything felt. The biggest thing was the disappointment of living a lie to all of my brothers in quit and when fessing up to living the lie, ultimately getting shut out from this place. I need this place. I would not be 85 days quit without it. Thanks to everyone here for showing me which door to walk through for freedom. I'm glad I chose to walk through it.
