Me. . . Normal?

This is it. Day One. I started Suboxone this morning for treatment of my opioid addiction or dependence or whatever it might be. What is it anyway? Why do I love opioids? Why do I have to have them? Do I really have to have them or do I just want them? Hmm. There's the million dollar question. I need, or believe I need, opioids because they allow me to be someone I'm not without them. They ARE the perfect mask to the muck that lies beneath. Happy, engaged, interested in the world around me, content, funny, caring, energetic (yeah, ok, mornings only - but still - energetic at SOME point in the day), loving and kind = Karen ON opioids. Off opioids? I'm none of that. I'm depressed and sad and dull and apathetic (that's a biggie!), unmotivated, lethargic most of the time, loathsome, fearful, anxiety ridden and, at times, even suicidal. No, I have never attempted suicide, but I sure do think about it - a lot! Undoped, I desire drugged out Karen's existence - I long for it - I want it so badly, but I can't get it. Without opioids I simply cannot BE that person. And it sucks. It sucks so much. I sit and think about it - over and over and over again. It's on my mind every waking moment. The obsessive thinking snowballs. Then I find myself sitting around thinking. . . well, if you live so well ON dope, why not go get yourself some? Why not just live life every day fully drugged? If I have to live - which apparently I do because I'm not dead yet - why not live happy? I use that line of thinking. . . every single time. . . to relapse. I give myself permission to "go there" once again. Initially, it is wonderful. The euphoria I experience with the ingestion of that first little pill. . . oh my. . . it's like nothing I can explain. It's 1000% better than the best of orgasms! Really, it IS that good. Sadly, it doesn't last. After that first little pill, it's game over. And because all I want is to feel that good all the time, I start ingesting larger and larger quantities trying to get "it" - the feeling - back. It never works. I could eat 50 Vicodin and even that wouldn't create the high, happy feeling I experience after taking just 1 Vicodin after a 3-4-5-6 month hiatus. Because I've been on this roller coaster for years, my body/mind has built a tolerance to the shit and I just can't get high or high enough. And it is sooooooo frustrating! The more I take, the more my body rebels, which leads to thoughts of needing to get clean. So here I am. Getting clean. Or trying. Unlike the 100 times before, this time I'm doing it under the care of a doctor and a therapist. This time I'm taking Suboxone. And today is day one. I took my first dose at 6:15 a.m. Before taking it, I was in indescribable agony. The pain was so severe that I feared I wouldn't be able to roll out of my bed. I wanted to die. I did not want to face what awaited me emotionally because it's just too painful. I know from past experience. . .emotional pain is far worse than physical pain. I did not believe the Suboxone would treat that side of this hell. I thought. . . take some Suboxone. . . it will ease the pain. . . and then, in time, I'll see the therapist and maybe she'll have some magic potion or therapeutic exercise she can prescribe to kill my mental anguish. I'm happy to report, I was wrong. Within minutes, the Suboxone filled the opioid receptors in my brain and I felt. . . normal. Not high. Not depressed. Not apathetic. Not like drugged out Karen. Not like undrugged Karen. Something in between. I believe it's called normal. God, can this be true? Really? I have longed for this moment and now, here it is or so it would appear. Please Dear God, show me Grace. Let this be. Let normal be my new existence forever.