Rock Bottom

In order to stand back up we first must fall.

For us addicts, it's got to be a rock bottom kind of fall. It typically takes years to get there. Self destructive behavior that drives us to the depths of depression, despair, and hopelessness. My rock bottom was December 30th 2018. I wrote down all my thoughts and feelings that night in a journal entry, an honest reflection of what I felt like. That night I admitted to myself that I was an addict. A bad family member, a terrible friend, someone whose self destructing actions caused others to constantly worry. I was extremely suicidal, with those thoughts haunting my entire existence every time I came down from ice. I would stay up as long as I could keep the dope flowing, sometimes as long as 2 weeks. I would be hallucinating heavily and sometimes I would shoot so much in my veins I got close to a heart attack. I never cared, a part of me wanted to die. I’m forever grateful God saved me, by his grace I’m not only still here but thriving. As much as I don’t want to share this, I know it will be relatable to the struggling addict, and may provide the inspiration to change. That alone is reason enough to share.

“Sunday December 30th 2018"

This is my first journal entry. This is the day I realized I, Steven Hendrickson, am an addict. I feel alright today, but that’s only because I slept for 12 hours last night, for the first time in 8 days. I’ve told my friends I quit months ago. And honestly I did, for about 3 weeks. I’ve been lying to myself saying I'm doing fine when in reality, I was using about once a week. But maintaining the gym and work made it seem like I was fine. I'm not fine. I’m so lost. I’m sitting on my bed, realizing an issue, that I didn’t care enough. I didn’t care about my mom when I stole thousands of dollars from her for coke, meth, needles, hotels, ubers, food. I didn’t care about Cody, who I think about everyday, how I’d be dying inside if I saw him doing even half of what I do.

I can’t stop crying. All I want is to die. I want Cody & my mom to know how sorry I am. How bad I feel. I want my mom to forgive me, even though I’ll never forgive myself. I’m the only one who’s going to know what I have done, and it will haunt me forever. I’m a terrible son, and the worst friend you could have. I left my best friend's house on Christmas knowing damn well that I broke his heart, again, and he’d be so happy to see me asleep in the morning.

Instead I went to a hotel and trapped for 3 days, shooting dope for 7. Now I’m at home wondering why I haven’t just made the last shot big enough to do the job. Why haven't I ended all this madness? Holding his 22 in my hand made me realize how easy it would be. I haven’t been an addict since last year, I’ve been an addict since I was 13. Almost 10 years without more than a dozen days I’ve gone to sleep totally sober. I go from one thing to the next, never realizing I’m not getting better.

I was actually proud of myself for taking a week to drink half a bottle, but then realized I've shot myself up maybe 10 times in 2 days. I was frozen paralyzed in the room of a hotel for 17 minutes scared shitless for my life with all the windows open, sweating bullets, could barely breathe, and didn’t care. This week, I lost my job, the week before my house, the week before I don’t even remember. I don’t remember 3 fucking weeks ago. What the fuck. Cody, I miss myself too. I miss goofing with you, feeling comfortable around you, instead of wondering if you’ve noticed the meth I forgot on the counter, or if the needle that is in my pocket will be noticed. I refuse to tell you things because I am guilty, shameful, and completely fucking hate myself, and I believe you would to if you knew.

I’m supposed to hangout with you today, but I am scared to call you. Yet again, I haven’t slept and will either get high again or sleep. I’m out of dope, none left here. It’s a godsend. If I had dope here now, this letter would end with my last breath. I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I hope the day you find these, I'll be better, and I hope I'm still here. I just pulled a little crystal out of the top of this pen. Jesus. My track marks are back, go me.

Oh shit.. You don’t know I got fired, or about the track marks, or about Emma's. I’m sorry I’m such a terrible person. I almost forgot the tip of a needle on the ground under the bed. And there was a bag of dope in the jacket she washed, but she didn’t find it. Fuck. I read something today. I used to do drugs for fun. Now drugs do me for fun. It's all true. I hope you never find this notebook, but if you do, now you know how I feel, everyday.

That’s why I don’t talk to you as much. I still feel normal around the crazy addicts, but when I see you I know I'm just like them. I love you, but hate myself. All this goes through my head, in 20 minutes. I started writing this 20 minutes ago. But all I will say to you is hello, and hope you don’t respond. Hopefully tonight I’ll be able to do it. I feel peace inside me just thinking about it.

The first step is admitting to ourselves what we are.

That we have a disease and are unmanageable. I did not get into a program in the beginning of my recovery, nor did I have a sponsor. But I unknowingly did many of the steps. That night I had an epiphany resulting in an intense desire to not only get sober, but change my life. I wanted to get ripped, rich, and rare. I not only decided what I wanted, but I began to take action. From that day forward I obsessively took consistent action towards bettering myself.

I wrote that letter 6 years ago, and since then I've made millions of dollars helping hundreds of homeowners replace their roofs. I’ve built sales teams, coached and developed others into 6 figure incomes, bought a restaurant, started an addiction recovery business, and bought several properties. You can change your life, and even if you want to die today, I promise you it’s not worth it. It can and will get better, no matter how hopeless it feels. Even if you don’t believe in you, I do. I believe you can. I believe you should. I believe you will.

Trust me, even if you’ve fucked over everyone you have ever met, you can still change it. You got this!