When I overcame my depression, it felt like a light switch came on in my life. I got a job, my husband liked me again and my kids were coming back to me. I was a productive member of my family. I had everything I’d ever wanted, or so I thought.
I was doing it all on my own. I didn’t need God or meetings.
Of course there was that minor issue in my life. I was dependent on suboxone. So what, I’d tell my husband. Look how far I’ve come. You’ll have to get over it. I’m not as bad as my mom anymore, right? What more do you want from me? I’ve done everything you asked of me and your still not happy. Ugh, I’ll just never be who you want. I’ll come off next month, ok maybe next year. Look my doctor said I can stay on it forever.
That was it. That was his final straw. Those were the words that turned his life inside out. I didn’t know it, but he was preparing to leave me.
I was so positive I was right and he was wrong. I couldn’t see the person I’d become. Yes, I was “sober” but I wasn’t me. My entire life was a routine. Get up, brush teeth, take kids to school, work, go to sleep. Keep your head down, don’t mingle with anyone. Just breathe and smile. My heart was still cold. Not to my kids, but to outside people and my husband. If only they would all realize everything I’d done to get better.
My daughter was going through her third round of Bells Paisley. I found an old book of my grandmothers. Proving God. It went on and on about the Power of Prayer. I wanted this, my husband needed this. He should get right and be happy again. I looked at my daughter, I’m doing this. I’m praying for 30 days on purpose. Watch how much our life will change, just watch it get better.
I never ever could have imagined what the next 30 days would hold.
No, everything did not get better. Yes, everything changed.
Every thing and every person I had my trust in, was about to crumble. God was ready for me to come to the end of myself.
I walked out of rehab and climbed into my daddy’s truck, my real dad. He was going to buy my first $300 round of medicine.
I was so glad to be free and ready to see my husband. I was only gone from my house for 2 weeks, but mentally I hadn’t been there in years.
I learned some good information: stay away from your previous party partner, go to meetings, get a sponsor, addiction is a spiritual issue, and sobriety is possible.
But my rehab forgot to tell me two of my major effects.
I was subdued for 7 months. I drove only at certain times, and only short distances. I had to battle falling asleep at the wheel. It was miserable. I would sleep walk or get up at night and fall asleep sitting up at random places. It creeped out my husband. We would argue- see?? You weren’t addicted! It’s this medicine! If you truly had a problem you wouldn’t have to adjust to the medicine. My doctor would tell me, it’s not the medicine, keep taking it. Parts of this time were just as dark and depressing as the drug days. But now I had nothing to numb me, to pick me back up, to make me feel better. I had to feel every emotion in real time, which totally sucked. This stopped as suddenly as it started. It stopped when I got a job. I’ll never know if the inability to keep my eyes open was because of the medicine or depression, I believe it was depression.
I have many addicts in my family. On my mom’s side and my dad’s. My parents are both addicts and alcoholics. My dad functions but not my mom. They are divorced and have been since I was 3. I’m waiting for the call that my mom has passed. I honestly can’t believe she is still here with all she has done to her body over the years. I feel guilty because I’m sober today, and she always intended to get here. I feel guilty because my 30 year old cousin had no hope in his addiction and depression, and killed himself years ago. I feel guilty because my uncle lost everything he had, even his family and couldn’t afford the drugs anymore, so he turned back to drinking. I feel guilty because his drinking led to an accident which took his life. He was only in his forties.
Why am I free today, and two people I love so much are dead and the other is mentally gone?
I’m thankful for my spot today but I feel extreme guilt. I’m no different than they were. I’m not a strong person, I’m not. I knew I wanted sober living and I put my blinders on and only focused on my husband and kids till I gave it all to God. But they could have done it too. Why didn’t they do it too?
Daily Word Prompt: Subdued
I need God. Not a god, not some god, I need my God. The One that created me. The one that knows how many strands of hair I have on my head. The only One that I trust to set my mind straight.
I need people. It’s not good for me to lock myself in my room all day.
People need me. My family missed me.
I love to go do things.
I needed rehab. I needed Subutex.
I need prayer. Not the please Jesus help me sleep and bless my family prayer. But the hold my face in my hands and cry out help me God. Please I’m begging for peace. You know what I need to manage, so pour it over me. Cry out prayers are the best ones.
My recovery path has been the best path for me. You may need meetings and sponsors, and I’m just glad you found your path. As long as we get to the same place, we don’t need to judge each others way.
I’m grateful for every tear that fell, every fight my husband and I had and that my kids hated me. I’m grateful that they would not put up with the madness and wouldn’t let me be the sole victim.
It’s ok to forgive and move on. I don’t have to jump to hate when you hurt me.
I’ve learned that I really really like me. I’m a good person with a big heart. I’m in love with my husband and I’ve worked like crazy to make my kids proud of me.
My favorite word is restless. And I’m so grateful to be restless no more.
I was trapped in my own skin. There wasn’t a place more terrifying. It was dark and lonely, even though my home was full of people. They all looked at me with confusion. Just put it down. Just stop my husband would say.
Everything I did revolved around my goods for the day.
My mind would race, if I just stopped how would my life go? How would I do anything I enjoyed sober?
How would I
Listen to music, go on vacation, take care of my kids, have the drive to do anything, be funny, enjoy a bonfire, spend time with my husband, surf the web, stay up all night, go to a concert, watch my husband grill, brush my teeth, take a shower, cook, clean, talk on the phone, text anyone, leave my house?
Would sex still be as good?
How could I just be, without my drugs?
It seems silly now looking back. I’ve done most of these things sober and it’s more enjoyable. I can remember what I’ve said and done. I don’t have to spend countless hours searching for a pill to start my day. I don’t have to think of a new way to talk my husband into drinking with me. And I wake up every morning with no shame.
I used to cry all those questions to my husband. But most of all I’d ask him what if you don’t like me sober? What if I’m boring?
Sometimes I still feel bad he doesn’t have a wife that can drink one beer and hang out. He tells me this is silly.
And for the record, sex is way better. And I’m not boring. I’m a pretty neat person. Where I’ve come from doesn’t hold a candle to where I am today.
I can’t be the only addict that had these crazy fears and thoughts.
Daily Prompt: Candle
I used to think Rainey was clumsy. Later I realized her issues were way more serious.
Yearly she had some major surgery. If you look at her body now, she could show you a map of scars from her favorite doctor. In between the surgeries, there were burns, cuts and broken bones. A car wreck messed up her teeth, a horse accident cost her her spleen, her appendix had to go, the pet pitbull ran into her and caused a broken leg.
How could so many accidents happen to just one person? How many surgeries does one human need?
Apparently the need for more trips to the hospital coincided with the amount of pills left in the drawer.
I grew up feeling pity for my mother. Poor thing, she needs to lie down, she is tired. It’s not until I was a grown up, caught up in my addiction beside her, that I realized what I had seen all my life. I’d seen an addict getting her fix. I’m not saying every fall or trip was on purpose, but I’ll never believe in so many accidents for one life.
If you talk to Rainey now, she is an eternal victim. Her kids are mean, because they won’t talk to her. Her husband is mean because he doesn’t make his kids come over. Her body hurts and her friends keep stealing her drugs.
I wonder if Rainey could do it all over again, if she would stay clumsy. Or maybe she would wisen up and be more careful.
This is not my first blog. I started a few during the dark parts of my addiction. Then started another when I began my recovery. I feel it is a good time to start over and go back to the beginning of my story. Maybe one day my story will help another. But for now, I’m satisfied with this helping only me while I sort this out.
Today I love my life, but it wasn’t always like this. There were times I wanted to die and times I tried. I felt worthless and had no hope. But those feelings have been replaced. Life isn’t perfect now, but I deal with it better. A few days into my recovery, I had a family member pass away. The first time I saw family in years was at his funeral, but I made it through and stayed sober. I stayed in a self made cocoon for years, hiding from everyone. I’m glad that is no longer the case.
I’m 39 years old. I am a female. I am a mother of 4. I am a wife, and have been for 23 years. I am a sister. I am a daughter of an addicted and alcoholic mother. I am a daughter of an addicted step dad. I am a daughter of an alcoholic dad.
Miraculously I made it out. It wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t easy. But I’ve made it. I am the person that my mother always intended to be. But I’m on no pedestal. I was lucky. God showed me an escape and I ran towards it like crazy.
I have no shame for where I’ve been, only goals for where I am going.