Day 16 Of Sobriety!

I still haven't started the end of my Junior year at my new high school; transcripts and blaaah,blaah,blah. So I'm waiting on that and sitting my friends dads office(whom I am living with) at his church typing away on this and my other blog whatever seems to be coming to mind.

Since this is my first blog, here's a snap shot of my story..

My nightmare began at 8, my parents split. It was a... I don't know.. an experience I never thought I'd face as a child. At 12 I began smoking weed, and it progressed, along with my curiosity about drugs, from there. During my addiction many other graphic things happened to me and my family members and those around me, others addiction progressed there addiction a few steps ahead of me.

I naturally wanted to be like my eldest sister. Little did I know, I was following the wrong path. She, herself, has a non stop drug problem that has boiled down to alcohol in her, now, adult life. Now, I cannot blame it all on her; I made my decisions myself.

Following the only person whom I thought was "cool" and appeared to be everything I wanted to be(I decided she was my role model at a young age, through very envious, blind, narrow eyes.) I began stuffing every mind altering substance into my mouth and stuffing everything that resembles any type of drug into a pipe. I researched, read, breathed, slept and ate drugs, drugs, drugs. What can I say? I fell in love with the insanity of addiction, and no I cannot explain exactly why.

Things went waaaay down once I met "the monster" a year ago.(Ever read Ellen Hopkins? She is a poet who writes full books, very explicit not quite as dead on with "the monster" as I originally thought they where.) It picked me up, shot me into it's mouth, chewed, grind-ed, and swallowed. I was done for, forever in love with the very devil's drug.(I don't know your experience but meth was my drug of choice and took me places I swore I'd never go.)

Then.. My parents drug tested me after figuring out I sold a couple of Christmas gifts(at this point only 2 months into my addiction.)

First trip to rehab took place..

Now I thought to myself the second I walked into the door "**** this." And kept that attitude through out. It was a mere month program, and didn't help me a damn bit. Why? Because I didn't want to be fixed, I was perfectly happy being a broken-picked-at-*****-tweaker.

Got out after 27 days, and decided I would quit the meth and begin to drink only. Along with the drinking, and the shameful things I did while intoxicated, came the crys. Two more months in, I was even lower than originally. Stealing from everyone in sight and had no one but family who even talked to me. They tried their hardest to keep away from me, but I am a minor and they couldn't have thrown me out at 15,well they could have but my poor mom doesn't have the heart.

One morning as the sun rose I was laying in my bed after staying out 'til about 5. I closed my eyes, my body so tired and weary from being starved and deprived of sleep for at least two weeks at that point. I opened my eyes, and saw something that to this day I have no idea if it was there or not(half of the people I talked to say it's real that I really saw this, and the others blamed deprivation of sleep.) Demons, heads touching the ceiling, three of them, staring down at me. I shut my eyes tightly and opened. They where closer. Now there was no fear in me for I was numb from all the drugs I had ingested that night but, at the moment it was 100% real. I closed my eyes and prayed, prayed and cried(I had not cried in at least 5 months at this point.) and cried and cried. Opened my eyes..

They left me..

An hour later my mom woke up, and came into my room. I remember her face, she looked so tired, so weary, so exhausted, hopeless and just.. broken.. She looked at me silently, and I felt as sober as possible and began to cry. Not because I was sober, not because I was a mere 90 pounds, not because any of that. Because I knew I was the cause to her misery. I went into the bathroom and flushed the rest of my sack down the toilet(lamely waving good-bye, so ******* weird.) Went out to smoke a cigarette and my mom calmly walks outside.. "Me and your Dad talked.." I turned, not noticing she was there at first. I was silent. "We're taking you back to rehab." She was stern in her voice and her face serious. I looked down.. Looked to our back yard fence.. It crossed my mind to run.. But, no, no I had done enough of that. Without another drag or anymore hesitation I flicked the cigarette and said quietly "Let's go."

Went inside and packed my bags and we were off within an hour. Once I arrived I saw a familiar face.. I still was not serious enough to really recover.

So once again, I dicked around the whole time in rehab. I did get one thing out of it, one of the staff said "Nothing changes, nothing changes." Without saying it, he said "Change your ******* life or go back to hell." that's what I heard. And so I dove into literature, got a sponsor, did (most) of what the program required.

I relapsed, in rehab. On computer cleaner and prescription medicine that I traded a kid for mine.

Being the typical addict I am, I didn't say a word about it.

Two days after I left I relapsed again, this time on alcohol. And being in an IOP program I had to stick to that or I'd go back to rehab.

Then I met him.. I had known him since the first time out of rehab, he saw me at my worst, then he saw me in my drinking stage. And I fell in love, too bad he couldn't catch me. I don't really know if he did want to or not, point is he didn't.

Me, him, and the neighborhood hoodlums run a muck last summer. It was fun.. at first...
Then the monster creeped back into my life threw those around me, and next thing I know me and my latest love we're fighting over him knocking the dope on the floor.

I had ran away to his house and my Dad dragged me out, once we got home he asked me "Are you going back to rehab?" Now that I look back on it, I said yes to please my family, every time. It always started off that way and last time I decided, while in rehab, that it was for me.

SUCCESS! I had gotten to 3 and half months, I had followed ALL suggestions in the program (no relationships, sponsor, literature, etc.) Then I slipped, a downfall of boredom and thinking "Oh I'm young enough I can drink a little." Then the drink got me again, opening the door for the monster and the typical followed.

At this point, my family has given up, my sponsor got involved into her own life and I... I was just a ghost again. The only shot I had was to move with close family friends, thus here I am!
The mother helps me a lot by teaching me Gods word and showing me good programs and the father is a pastor. There are four teenage girls including me(two freshman and two juniors), two boys(one college student and a 6th grader) and whoever else decides to pop up in our beautiful country home.
My life now contains Jesus Christ, church, our little wonderful(sometimes) mixed family, internet and xbox... from sucking the glass **** like it'd save my life, to being content...
Only God, Only God!
he8myheart he8myheart
18-21, F
2 Responses Jan 8, 2013

Congrats n thank you for sharing your story.
You have described how the drugs come back after some time of sobriety.
Don't be alone, on your own - the disease is cunning , you'll forget all the good things one day n focus on bad things n the drugs/drink will look like a great friend.
So please go to meetings , take other addicts with you, get a sponsor n with God's help, find the good life.

Hi he8myheart, let me be the first to congratulate you. If you can learn to love yourself through God's eyes,,,,you have the answer.