|
DEALING WITH ADDICTION |
Whenever my back or some muscles would ache,
I had an excuse for the drugs I would take.
Why be in pain for a night or a day,
when just a few perks, would take it away?
Not only would all of my pain disappear;
I felt pretty good - even more with a beer.
It got so I wanted my highs to last longer.
I asked and I searched, 'til I found something stronger.
My new pain excuse was that I was psychotic.
I came upon morphine, a stronger narcotic.
This did the job, long as dosage increased.
Noddin' and scratchin'. My cares were the least.
As long as I stayed on my self medication,
I was O.K. in my peaceful sedation.
What could be better than how I was feeling?
Methadone! Heroin! Both more appealing.
I'd found a good high that removed all my stress.
Despite that my life was becoming a mess.
I didn't need help and I didn't need God.
I was at peace in my methadone nod.
Just a few problems, that grew and kept growing.
Had all these bills but no income was showing.
Had a small boy that was being neglected.
A wife, who grew distant and soon disconnected.
I'd try to get clean but, my God! the depression.
The cravings, the body aches. The hostile aggression.
The nights spent in bed full of tosses and turns,
On top of a million and one new concerns.
Yeah, all those narcotics were good for my pain.
My life fell apart and went right down the drain.
Abusing narcotics had one great reward.
It sent me to rehab. I met Betty Ford.