From Needles to Nurture
Until recent years, I harboured so much shame about my history of drug abuse. It was something I was adamant needed to be kept secret from all but those closest to me. The mere thought of the scrutinous judgement, whispered words and condescending looks sure to be aimed my way in public, sent waves of anxiety cascading over me. But no more. Fuck what you think. More stories of long term recovery need to be shared with the world. Struggling addicts need to know that there is hope.
The thing I know I wrestled the most with when I was institutionalised each time was the men and women, with all these fancy credentials and titles, trying to "fix" me, when in my eyes they didn't understand a thing and therefore didn't have a hope in hell of bringing about lasting change in my chaotic world or my troubled mind. Childhood trauma, sexual abuse, mental illness and drug dependency- these aren't things you can properly learn from a book, without ever having lived through that pain or felt that level of despair and helplessness. That is the biggest thing that emboldened me to begin sharing my stories last year.
My hope is to not only shine a light on the shame and stigma shrouding addiction but also to help educate others who may hold preconceived notions, instilled in them by society, that all addicts are a lost cause. We are simply broken souls and 9 times out of 10, at the core of addiction, is a story that wouldn't anger you.... it would break your heart.
With enough love and support, we can and do get better- I am living proof of that. A huge part of getting better is finding the strength to face and deal with whatever it is we were trying to escape from in the first place. Until we can conquer those demons and make peace with them in healthy ways, addiction will continue to plague us with its seductive false promises of oblivion and bliss.
I don't have any fancy credentials of my own (yet) but I have one hell of a lot of life experiences under my belt and a set of ears that are pretty good at listening without judgement.
I once believed falling victim to the clutches of the drug world made me weak..... that cannot possibly be true though. The strength it takes to forge a new life and recover is the stuff of warriors. Not unlike soldiers who return from war with PTSD, so too, we continue to mentally fight, long after the battle is won.
I've always been an incredibly vivid dreamer and some mornings I still wake up with visions of shooting up fresh in mind and imagined feelings of euphoria. I catapult into panic mode, thinking, "What the fuck have I done?! 9 years clean and I've thrown it all away? Why?!"
Once the last of my lingering slumber dissipates, the penny drops and I realise none of it was real. There's always a nasty little niggle of shame intertwined with my relief. Like, that part of me is always there in my subconscious, beckoning to me when I'm at my most vulnerable, no matter how far I think I've come.
I think the same is true of the majority of recovered addicts. That part of us will always be there in the back of our minds. It's a choice we have to make every day to never again succumb to its siren-like song.
Addiction doesn't discriminate.... not against gender, race, social status or wealth, not even against royalty. Nobody pops a pill, snorts a line, tokes a pipe or puts a needle in their arm with the intention of becoming an addict. Using drugs might be a choice but addiction certainly is not. In the beginning, we all think that our using will be different; that we'll be in control.... and sometimes for a brief while, we are.... until we aren't.
When I first stopped using, for a long time I doubted my willpower. After falling pregnant with my eldest son, I cut ties with every single person from that part of my life, blocking them on social media and deleting their phone numbers, as well as changing my own. They weren't all bad people, I just couldn't trust myself. The thought of Child Protective Services taking my son from me was my biggest fear. He was the one thing that had made me turn my life around. If I lost him, I knew it wouldn't be long before I spiralled back to rock bottom again and he deserved so much better than to become a ward of the state.
June this year will mark 10 years (an entire decade!) completely clean from all illicit drugs and I know now there's no turning back now. I have reached out to old friends and found that most of them are also walking the straight and narrow these days, living the clean and sober life, just like me.
Our past does not define us and neither do the opinions of narrow minded people. Keep fighting the good fight- you've got this! ❤
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