- Alcohol
- Drugs
I identify my story as beginning before I was born. My father abandoned me when he found out my mom was pregnant. I did not meet him until I was 32. When I was five, I was sexually abused by my brother who was 10 years older than myself. I basically raised myself from the age of seven. My mother worked three jobs to support us. When she was there, she was in her room. I learned to cook, clean, and take care of myself. I was a very shy child. I did not like anybody looking at me. I wanted to be invisible. I didn’t do anything to draw attention to myself.
I did really well in school. I had good grades and was in the gifted and talented program at school. Not that anyone noticed. I did always have at least always one good friend throughout childhood. I remember building forts in the field behind our mobile home. I did start the manipulation then, though; I would pretend to be sick to stay home from school. I had my first drink at the age of 12. I became sexualy active at the age of 14, with a boyfriend I was to have for three years. When we broke up at the age of 17, I was devastated.
That’s when my suicidal tendencies began. I would have fantasies about how to do it. This is when the drug use began. It started with marijuana. That first hit, that was my solution. I “belonged.” Then it went to meth. I also did acid at this time. I ran away to join the military at the age of 18. I got my schooling in Millington, Tenn., 40 miles north of Memphis. I was drinking really heavily but still doing well in the school. I did a lot of “firsts” in Memphis: crack, coke, schrooms, Ecstasy, mixing pills like codeine with muscle relaxers or anti-depressants. I blacked out several times.
All the while I was trying to figure out a way to get out of the military. A friend and I took an unauthorized absence, taking a bus 27 hours to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. We were on codeine pills half the time, the other half the time drinking and smoking pot. I had also set my mind to being as promiscious as possible during that time in the military. When we got back from Florida, I had to go to court martial. I was sent to restriction, which is like the Navy version of jail. I also smoked pot and dropped acid while in restriction. Going AWOL did not get me out of the military so I had to try another way. I have scoliosis in my back, so I said it “hurt.” They gave me physical therapy. I said it did not work. They prescribed painkillers; I said they did not work. They sent my case to a medical review board, and I recieved an Honorable Medical Discharge. I am not proud of this. I feel I gave nothing to the military and should receive nothing. I do not collect benefits.
When I arrived back home, I continued the drinking and drugs. I met my soon-to-be husband. I continued the drinking and the drugs. I developed an eating disorder. I would either starve myself or eat poorly and purge. I was in and out of the hospitals. Now I was “drug-seeking” for opiates. When I was pregnant, I tried to quit drugs and could not. The drinking and drug use of pot, opiates, and benzos continued for many years. The doctors gave me the prescribed drugs and knew of the pot use, so, thanks be to God, C.P.S. was never involved. My husband was very angry and frustrated with the drug abuse. He did not understand why I could not just stop. Neither could I. I don’t know how much pot I threw away, or how many pipes I smashed only to buy more. My “bottom” was more than a “bottom”; I hit bottom and then dug a hole. I was severely depressed. I had tried to quit the drugs and could not. I maybe could quit one drug only to go on to another, and drink alcohol.
One night at the end of September 2011, I could not sleep. So, I took my benzo’s and over-the-counter sleeping pills. I kept praying to God, “Please just let me sleep.” More pills. More prayer. Eventually the prayers turned from, “Please just let me sleep” to “Please just let me die.” I woke up. Thanks to God. I was (and am) very grateful to be alive. I was violently sick. My husband did not know why. I did not tell him why until a few days later. We went to my therapist together. She told us to look on the Internet for Dual Diagnosis treatment centers for co-occuring disorders.
Michael’s House was one of them. They answered our call right away. My husband set up everything and took me all the way to Palm Springs. From the very first day there I threw myself into the program. I went to every class, every appointment, every meeting; anything I could do, I did. I did not say no to anything. Especially the things that scared me. Like pscho-drama workshop, or being a peer-leader, or leading a speaker meeting. Those are the times I grew the most. I did not know who I was when I arrived at Michael’s House. I could not even look in the mirror. I tried to soak up as much as I could from anyone and everyone, the staff and my peers. I learned so much about myself and the disease.
I now have HOPE in my life. I have some days and weeks clean and sober. I try my best to take it day by day. I am back at home now with my husband and children. I have goals. I go to meetings everyday right now, and I am working the steps. Some days are better than others, but I can hold my head up high and say that for today I am clean and sober! I can also look in the mirror and see a strong and confident woman.