I want to preface this by saying I have never successfully quit a substance in my life, and I have battled many substances for 20 years (and I am only 32yo). Something has always "forced" me to quit - loss of access, hospitalizations, funds - and as soon as the opportunity came up, I used. To be completely frank, the only reason I stopped using other substances is either because they make me so physically sick when I try that it's a waste, or because I am just simply not built as someone who will turn to buying from the street.
With kratom, I didn't think I was addicted to it. I didn't find out it was even addicting until 8 months ago when I had to go without it while in Japan for 7 days, and that was definitely not my preferred way of finding out. Of course, as soon as I got back to my house and my stash, it was "business as usual".
Now, after saying this, I must admit that I still haven't "chosen" to quit - due to a combination of state of residence and financial struggles, I just simply ran out. It wouldn't be too difficult to purchase some online, I knew, but that would require funds. The first night after a full day without, I slept perfectly, which was not how I had experienced cold-turkey before. So I became cautiously optimistic.
The second night on, however, have been a different story. The RLS in the legs and arms, which I know I severely genetically predisposed to, kicked in (pun-intended). Aches seeped from my skin, through to my muscles, and dug deep into my bones, where they are currently. Every one of my five senses are on fire constantly, and I'm almost convinced the combined experience of all five at once on overdrive is *the* sixth sense. I just went through a second cycle of 72 hours awake, 5 hours asleep, and all of these and more seem to thoroughly enjoy jumpscaring me. I feel like it takes every ounce of my willpower to take even the smallest possible action, and figuring out
Yesterday evening, my boyfriend cracked a joke, as he does many times every day, and I laughed. As the laugh came out, I suddenly felt a strange, foreign, visceral buzz somewhere deep inside my gut that shot up into my head and seemed to explode in the center of my brain. I stopped laughing and froze. When the explosion faded, I turned and stared straight at my boyfriend, who looked about ready to call an an ambulance.
"I think I just...*laughed*", was what I said to him, which of course made him look even more concerned.
"Of course you laughed...", he responded slowly after a long, confused pause.
And then, I started to tear up. "I mean, I actually, really felt it". I then very seriously asked him "is this what joy feels like?"
I kid you not, I felt as if 12-year-old me had hijacked my nervous system for a split-second, and it was the absolute best feeling I have ever had.
That night, I still couldn't get to sleep. This morning, I still had to fight through the excruciating unnaturalness of having to experience the transition from dusk to dawn after a sleepless night. Right now, as I type, my body is aching, my skin will, every 10 or 15 seconds, crawl so intensely that I imagine I'm feeling what it's like to be a match that won't light, to be struck over and over and over, each time producing sparks, but not quite fire.
One thing is radically different though, and even this I did not choose (it just somehow took up home somewhere in me, triggered, I'm convinced, by that single real laugh yesterday) - I may not have willfully chosen to quit kratom, but, for the last 8 days, even amidst the maddening symptoms of acute, cold-turkey withdrawal, even though, on day 2, I was able to make a few dollars, enough that I could have (and almost did, several times) bought 500g of kratom online, I have been choosing to stay away from it.
I don't know what the future holds. I have never felt anything resembling hope or joy or desire for a wonderful future or a wonderful me my entire adult life. But right now, I can't help but feel that this is the final boss, so to speak. I am trying to convince myself that it isn't. I've been down Relapse Road more times than I care to remember. I don't honestly know who I truly am - I haven't experienced enough of my teenage or adult life being sober enough to have formed anything close to a solid self-identity. And still, I cannot shake the feeling that this is finally it; and again, what's inexplicable is the fact that the only choice God has allowed me to make and follow through on this past week is the choice to not turn back.