My Rock Bottom Was a Trampoline 

​Just wait till they hit rock bottom. That’s when they will make a change. I believe that is the opinion of people that may not be too close to addiction.
This isn’t saying I don’t believe in a rock bottom, but I don’t believe it is one important event. I believe you can hit rock bottom, survive that and move on to a new vice.

Or at least that’s what I did.

I took my first pill at 19. Became attached pretty quickly, but kept it fun and in control for years. That’s how it is, drugs and alcohol are so fun! Until they’re not.
I hit a rock bottom and was told by my husband, get help and don’t come home until you do. Round 1 of rehab, I believe I was 26.

Now, I left rehab clinging to my husband. I didn’t take it seriously. I blame myself, I was young and stupid and I still felt like I was in control.

What will I do now to relax? Chill out? How can I have fun? I know! How about we just have a few drinks every once in awhile? I can do that and keep it in check. I don’t have a problem with alcohol.

We could split a 6 pack and enjoy our night. Life was good. I wasn’t on drugs and we had this new thing we could do together.

It took years, but we weeded out every drink out there. I’m ok unless I drink dark liquor, cause it makes me mean. Clear liquor? Oh I forget my name. Red wine? It makes me cry. As long as I drink just beer I’m ok.

A 6 pack went to a 12 pack. That flew into getting a 30 pack. It got to be exhausting. Please honey drink with me tonight and tomorrow, then I won’t drink the next night. I always had to have a plan that would get alcohol in the house.

In September of 2014 I plummeted to another rock bottom. My husband had just started a new job. My daughter was working too and had to be up early. I was drunk and decided I needed to cuss our my husband and yell like an idiot. (At the time I was so right.) 2 people I love needed to go to bed. Instead mom decided she needed to show her crazy side.

I don’t remember too much of that night, but I remember enough…my daughter comes flying in, jumps in my face, full of tears: mom, just go to bed!! I’m so sick of this, I’ve got to sleep!

Oh wow. Addicts are full time victims, or at least in my experience. I can’t believe she talked to me this way. She’s a kid and has no clue what’s going on with me. I blamed my husband, how can you just stand there and let her talk to me this way. How dare both of you.

I passed out on the couch.

Sometimes you see something very different when you’re hungover and have to try to remember what happened.

I had yelled back at my daughter. I don’t remember the words I said, but I screamed at her. When all she wanted was sleep. I had lost control and told them they were to blame for everything.

I begged God please don’t ever let me lose control like that again. Please God, please help me stop drinking. Please. I’m begging you. And He did. And I moved past that day by day.

But ugh….what would I do now to relax? (I’m telling you, I don’t believe I’m the only addict that sees life this way. We can justify anything in our own head and make you the crazy one. We are very manipulative.)

Back to pills. Of course I can handle it this go round. I immediately went back and the first few months were some of the best times. Only once a week and I’d just have fun. The fun lasted 14 months. My mom’s medicine had far surpassed what she’d been on before. This new stuff was closer to heroin. And I’d never liked anything better.

At the end of the 14 month mark my husband was out of town. I had talked my mom into staying the night with me. We sat outside my house and talked and talked. It was just like old times. Hanging with my moma and her taking care of me.

Something snapped in my head that day. Maybe it was lying to my husband again. Maybe it was telling my kids just go in the house. Maybe it was guilt creeping in. I looked at my mom and that was it. Everything I had ever resented or hated about her was in me. Sure I wasn’t as bad as her, and I didn’t let dangerous people around my kids. But I was er. This was my biggest nightmare. I realized I was trapped. I don’t want to be here, please God make it to away. Please God take it. Rock bottom 3.

It took me 5 months to get back into rehab.

This brings us to Jan of 2015. When I walked out of rehab clutching my prescription for subs.

The suboxone held me (or helped me, depending on how you look at it) for 19 months. Until my husband left me. Rock bottom 4.

It was time to realize I don’t get to chill out with a substance. I can’t drink. I can’t do drugs. Because if I do I might not get another chance. My brain may not snap again. I may not hit another rock bottom. If I do this again, I won’t survive it. I have no doubt.


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