I don’t expect anybody to find this interesting (because it isn’t) but it has been on my mind for a few years now. I could never get it out because on my old blog, I lied about my sobriety. For some time I convinced myself that I was “in recovery” when I really wasn’t.
I’m not going back to the beginning, but instead I’ll start my story around the beginning of 2012. March or April – I don’t remember when exactly. I was in active addiction, and had been for about a year, so I was using a couple of grams of meth every day, and looking for a new job.
Actually I’ll go back to just before that… I’d worked for a small contracting company, as a c# developer in ABSA Towers in Johannesburg. At that time, my ex was less stable than I was. She’d be between myself and some other guy. She’d come back on a Thursday, and we had a great time and used together. Then before I went to work on the Friday morning, she took my SIM card out of my phone without my knowledge, and “borrowed” my bank card. While I was at work I thus did not receive the SMS notification to say that R2000 had been drawn out of my account. She politely left my bank card on the table at home though, which I then found when I returned home. While I was at work, she’d packed her things and left, with my money… So I mentioned this to someone at work on the Monday, without realizing that the contracting house had a strange policy of not keeping anyone around who had any debt issues. So my job ended. Just like that.
And thus I found myself on the job market. Not handling the situation at all well, I used meth every day to feel better and stayed awake up to seven days at a time until I crashed. And there I was at an interview at a company called Piggs Peak, as high as fuck. Somehow the people doing the interview really liked me. The interview went about as well as interviews can go, and I went home happy. Until the next day.
That night, I celebrated my excellent interview. (My state of mind then was: Miserable normally, but happy when high, so I was high most of the time. It seemed like the logical thing to do.) Then, after another night without sleep, I got the call at about 11AM the next morning. The recruiter started the conversation with “Is there anything you haven’t told me?”. I played dumb but that didn’t work. Apparently the people who interviewed me liked me so much, they called every company where I worked before, and Googled my name, and found out all about my history with drugs.
They were “concerned”. So concerned, they wanted another interview with me immediately. Immediately, as in 12:00, in one hour. So what could I do? I did what was in my mind, the logical thing to do: Have another hit of meth. And another. And another. And another. Then fuck it – finish everything I have. Then get in my car and drive there… ridiculously high.
So I sat down with three people interviewing me, and I lied through my teeth. As high as I was, I smiled politely and sold myself like I never had before. And told them that I was clean and had been for about three months.
And I got the job. I’ve felt guilty ever since, because I was brought up not to lie. In fact, until I was a little over thirty years old, I could not lie. That’s one thing addiction taught me; to lie like a pro. I can still do it, but I don’t because I value honesty. That’s part of what this blog is about: Honesty and truth. (As well as not writing personal details about people like my brother and violating his privacy. But the point is, I’d been thinking of rebooting the blog for a long time anyway.)
Anyway, I performed well enough at that job, and was well liked by some people. Not all, but some. In fact, the owner of the company at one stage offered to personally bail me out of all my debt. I didn’t take his offer, and never told him why. The reason of course was that I knew I would spend his money on drugs, and I was not willing to do that. (I had to draw the line somewhere.)
Eventually that company closed down, because of other issues that are irrelevant here. But I’ve felt bad about that lie for three years now. Next time I’ll pick up the story about a year later, and part two will describe the crazy times of my last nine months in active addiction. (The last day I used was 4th September 2013.)