Ever since I can remember I have been an addict. When I was an innocent child I was addicted to the pain and suffering that my mother put our family through with her addiction to sex and drugs. With my addiction came denial. Denial that I was manipulative, a liar, a cheater, depressed, and last but not least, an addict.
It all started when I was a little girl. My mom would make us lie to my dad about where she would be all night and the places that she would take us. All it took for us to keep the lie was a candy bar or a toy; my dad would believe every word. I remember that on our way home from these not kid friendly places we would have to repeat the lie over and over, that way we had it memorized to tell my dad. My dad eventually found out that my mom was a big lie; it really didn’t take much to figure out that she was falling apart and needed help.
My parents got divorced when I was 5 or 6, it was the worst experience I ever had. My dad, the innocent one, my mom the corrupt manipulator. My mom got everything in the divorce, even had her lawyers paid for and my dad just got a lot of baggage and debt. Full custody was granted to my mom and that was the worst choice that the judge could have ever made. I can’t blame the judge, my mom was really good at living a lie and when she cared about the lie, she could make anyone believe it.
When I was 14 my mom shared a line with me. At first I was confused, but she showed me how to do it, so I did. The head rush was the only thing that I can still remember, I felt as light as a feather. The drip in the back of my throat would gag me, but I didn’t care because I was numb. I was numb from all the pain and the lies that I lived my whole life until that point. I felt like I was nothing, but that one line made me feel like a different person. Ever since that day I was looking to catch that high and I could never find it. No matter how hard the drug was or what it was, I would take it in the hopes of feeling nothing but complete blankness and emptiness. I liked not being able to feel anything, because then I didn’t have to remember all the pain that I had inflicted on my family and friends. I learned my behaviors from my mother, if you act as if it’s not an issue you can fool yourself into believing it, along with everyone around you. However little I did, I knew back then that this would eventually catch up to me, and it was a lot sooner than I had thought.
One thing that my mom taught me growing up was that I would never be anything and that I should embrace that and have fun. Growing up all of my friends would call my mother “mom” because she was the “cool mom”, always throwing parties and letting kids drink or do drugs as long as they would share with her. At this time I seriously thought that I had the best life, everyday was a party and a chance for me to chase my high and become numb again. If it wasn’t for my mom getting to a whole new level of high and breaking my nose, busting my lip, and biting a chunk out of my leg, I would still be chasing my own high.
My mom locked me downstairs in the basement that night. I was stuck in the bathroom bleeding and she was outside the door, with a beer in her hand waiting for me. I think she would have killed me if I hadn’t gotten out of there that night. Without even thinking, just full of anger, I opened the door and ran. She grabbed my hair, ripping out a chunk, my head was throbbing. I got into the bedroom next to the bathroom and slammed the door and locked it quickly. She kicked in the door and I was halfway out the window when she bit my leg so hard that I had teeth marks and blood dripping down my leg. It was 11:00pm on a Thursday night in the middle of winter and I was out running around with no shoes, shorts, and a tank top. At this point my mom was in her truck, driving around, high and looking for me. I had no choice but to walk up to someone’s door and knock as loud as I could. A woman opened the door and let me in and she called the cops.
This is where my recovery started. I had just turned 16 years old and was extremely addicted and had never had a role model. The hardest part of recovery is forgiving yourself and being aware that you are not in control. I had to learn how to have a healthy relationship with men too. My mom was never good at relationships so everything that I had learned was what I had seen her do. She never stayed with one man, she always made sure to get whatever she wanted out of her men and then she would move on to the next. I also had to face my father after not seeing him since the horrible divorce and I hated him for not saving me from my mother. However, over time I realized that he did a lot more than what I had thought. My mom was just keeping him from us. Now my father and I are closer than ever and I could not ask for a better father.
Today I will be clean for 4 years this October 31st. If it wasn’t for the great staff at ASAC CD+ not giving up on me I would not be alive today. The first year of recovery I relapsed a lot, but I kept coming back because others had faith in me that I didn’t want to disappoint. Today I am 21 years old, married, work at the hospital, and am a full-time student. I have many regrets but I would not change my past because I now have a greater appreciation of life and an urge to help people. Today I have the greatest high that no drug could ever take me to, it’s happiness, hope, and true love with myself, my friends, and my family.