- Alcohol
- Drugs
- Faith
- Friends & Family
This is my story. I became an addict the day I buried my father. I have no doubts that the day my father died marked the end of my life as I knew it and the start of a new life no one ever thought I ‘d choose. My father died of cancer, one of the most violent kind. He and my mother lived a happy life prior to his diagnosis. They led a modest life in which both worked very hard to support their children and extended families. I grew up in a traditional Filipino household. Helping your extended family either come to the United States or survive in the United States was practically mandatory. Needless to say, growing up there were a lot of family members around me. I had two sets of traditional grandparents, twelve aunts and uncles, a lot of cousins all within the same age range. This also meant a lot of people assuming it was alright to have some say in how I lived my life.
Here’s the truth. Here’s the problem. I was the first person in our family to experience the loss of a parent. Not one aunt or uncle or any of my cousins could relate to the pain this was causing. I have a brother, a great one actually, but he’s much older than I am and after our father died he still had his own life to maintain. He had a wife and child to support. He didn’t have time for what was happening to me, which was this:
I WAS BECOMING BITTER/ANGRY/DEPRESSED/FEELING ULTIMATELY MISUNDERSTOOD and LONELY…etc. There aren’t enough words to articulate how severely lost I felt. I was always a “daddy’s girl.” I never really could relate to my mother and all of a sudden she was to be all I had. I knew I loved her., but did I admire her? Did I look up to her like I did my father?
Unfortunately, the answer was always “no.” My father was the kind who was full of life, full of drive, adventurous, outgoing, funny, easy to get along with and had many friends. My mother is simply the opposite.
Needless to say, she and I had a rough time adjusting to life without my father. We had a lot of horrible exchanges. She said a lot of horrible things that I replayed in my head often in my addiction. Looking back on it now, I suppose it’s understandable. She had lost her soulmate, the person she made plans with, the person she meant to live the rest of her life with. They had dreams and in the end, nothing turned out the way they intended. This caused her a great amount of pain and sometimes we say horrible things to people when we’re in pain. Or don’t we?
The intention was always to remain strong in our faith in God, despite my father’s struggle and loss in his battle with cancer. As I said earlier, my family was always very traditional and being a practicing Catholic was a part of all that. My father prayed every day until he passed, as did my mother and so did I. But at that time, my prayers were going dark. I was losing my connection to God. I began asking questions to which there simply are no answers. I figured, “How is it there IS a God!? What kind of God would allow so much pain and wrong-doing in the world? What kind of God creates situations like this one? Some people live and do not value their lives at all and yet my dad, who loved life, had to suffer through it. Why?”
A Review of the problem:
I watched my father die. I felt the pain and anger of losing him. I tried multiple things to cope, including a long time of reaching out to the church and my faith for clarity. I prayed every day despite my growing doubt. I went to church every Sunday and some weekdays too. I saw a youth psychologist once a week to talk about my feelings. And in the end I still had no relief, fleeting at best. So I waited.
I was always the shy type and a bit socially awkward. So, when I said I waited, I meant I was waiting for trouble to come to me. I did my best to graduate high school. I didn’t party at this age. Trouble hadn’t really come to me yet. Not the kind I was looking for at least. I got drunk a couple of times but that bored me. It wasn’t until I turned 18 and moved 500 miles away from home that TROUBLE found its way to me in the way I needed and the way I wanted it to. It came in the form of ecstasy, LSD, barbiturates, benzos, cocaine, methamphetamine, all often mixed with binge drinking. Heroin was “THE ONE I never tried”, so my friends and I always figured we’d be okay so long as we never went down that route. Methamphetamine was our D.O.C. Life appeared to get better. I was liking the college life, had my own group of friends who knew my struggle and could understand me. I felt like I was beginning to like myself.
We went on for some time making what we thought were beautiful moments. We entered tumultuous, abusive relationships. We disappointed our families. We turned away from our families and they turned away from us. We said hurtful things to others, quit jobs, told lies, cheated and stole. We stopped going to classes. We racked up financial aid repayment loans but dropped out of school after milking our assets. Life only appeared to be getting better. In reality, a disaster was being built.
I was able to sit comfortably in my addiction for about 5 years until I actually got sick and tired. And then I sat uncomfortably in my addiction for another 5 years until I finally got sick and tired of being sick and tired. It takes time, you know, and working the 12 steps, having sober support, patience, faith and humility. I had to find my way back home, make amends, take myself down a notch and learn to deal with the stuff that just is. All this, without lashing out, without running away. I know now that I have to take responsibility for my part in everything.
By the grace of God, I was given another chance at life after ten years spent blindly in my addiction. I almost died multiple times. I didn’t want it bad enough when I thought I wanted it. I wasn’t ready to do what it took to make any real change. And there IS a God.
Reflecting on the past, I know that now. And I know that life is about always evolving and learning and growing and that there will always be questions that are not meant to have answers… and we have to be okay with that, starting by learning to love ourselves.
The love we have for ourselves sets the tone for every relationship, every encounter we have in life.