Week 2 Sober: I want to LIVE. Ready to KILL my addiction before it kills me and upkeep the fight for life. I AM BETTER THAN HEROIN

Here at one of the few Ayahuasca/Iboga aftercare rehabs in the world I know of and it's a slice of fucking heaven I swear, in central mexico. Some of you know I was here back in March but was struggling hard detoxing from methadone (even post Iboga w/d's were rough for me). I have pre-existing health issues that, combined with the simple fact I STILL wasn't ready to give it all up, caused me to slip up the last few months. Some of you keenly and wisely commented on my downward spiral–you were right. You get that first bag, and getting the next one becomes 1000000x easier. I'm the kind of addict that other addicts are amazed at due to my recklessness and stupidity. The kind of addict that will use all 9 bags of dope in a night and be sick and broke tomorrow because I also went out and blew the little money I had left/stole on crack/coke so I can up the ante and speedball. My addiction wants me cold, blue and fucking dead. BUT ME? I WANT TO FUCKING LIVE. The Journal of Heart & Lung Transplantation just granted my lead author study under review a 4 week extension (THANK GOD). This will be the single biggest accomplishment of my scientific career once we publish. I want to live to see that day. I want to live to see a day where eating food doesnt' make me feel dope sick because of my gut. I want to see the day I date again….because its been seven long painful years I've used opiates to close my heart and isolate myself from every form of love that exists. I can't wait for the Ayahuasca retreat coming up that I'm preparing HARD for. It will be beautiful once I get there. Meanwhile, I work hard. On my diet, my prayer, my meditation, my blogging/marketing (to pay for my treatment), all of it. I am the worst kind of addict. But I am not my addiction. Today I'm in recovery and I write this post with so much raw fucking emotion in my heart. I cry for no reason (or reasons I'm still unearthing slowly) at any time of day. I'm almost done reading a book (I know crazy right? I only read sober) called “The unexpected joys of being sober” and its brilliant and mangificent. I highly recommend it. My heart so deeply goes out to all still suffering and using. In the rat race, day after fucking day. My love to all of you in recovery and out of it. There is hope. The universe has blessed us with plants like Ibogaine. I implore and urge those of you ready to make the leap to investigate this further–saved my life more than once, even when I thought everything was hopeless. I might not know your names and faces, but don't think for a second I don't love you and deeply empathize with you and your struggle. I've been there and I'm still climbing my way out of a pit I've dug over a fucking decade. Yes, on the outside there were moments of clarity and even success. On the outside I'm a published clinical biologist with a Master's in Biotechnology about to publish a landmark study on 2nd time lung re-transplantation in a world renowned journal….but do you think my addiction gives a fuck about any of that? NO. MY ADDICTION WANTS A NEEDLE FULL OF COKE AND HEROIN ALL DAY EVERY DAY UNTIL I BREATHE MY LAST BREATH….I WONT GIVE IT THE MOTHERFUCKING SATISFACTION. Not anymore. Never. Ever. EVER. AGAIN. I'm a terrible addict, but a beautiful human being like each and every one of us. There was a time when we weren't assholes, thieves, cheaters and liars. Find your inner child. Find your inner peace and that voice that wants to live. Please. Don't give smack the fucking satisfaction it wants. Don't give cartels, human traffickers and the demons of this earth your power. But most of all, don't give the addict in you (that isn't truly YOU) the power. In the end, you can (YOU CAN) WIN. I promise. It's the hardest thing you'll ever do. I know. All my scientific achievements combined don't begin to touch the battle I'm fighting now. But make no mistake, I'm armed now (to the teeth). NO longer do I walk up to my addiction with a toothpick while that assfucker sits with an AK-47 ready to take me down to another relapse. NO. Now it's ON BITCH. I won't rest until every time you rear your fucking head, YOU are the one sitting in a pool of your own blood and shit instead of me. ​ I AM RECOVERY. I AM LOVE. I AM LIGHT. I AM EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU AND IF YOU'RE READING THIS, YOU ARE LIVING TO FIGHT ANOTHER DAY. GOD FUCKING SPEED. I LOVE YOU ALL.