
(*Content Note: Substance Use, self Harm, and Justice involvement)
My story of addiction starts, like a lot of people, with trauma. I experienced unspeakable trauma at a young age and my childhood ended early. I was in an impossible situation in most of the corners of my life. School and home weren’t safe places. My father was slowly dying from a disease I have. I tried to run away at 12-years-old, which got me wrapped up in the juvenile legal system until I aged out. Ultimately, I was removed from my school and home. I love my family, and I have a wonderful family. Everyone was doing the best they could at the time. The thing about childhood trauma is it finely weaves into who you become as a person. It becomes you. Because you are still becoming you.
I needed to escape mentally to stay alive physically, because I just did not want to be here. It hurt to exist. I sought out something that would numb my mind. That’s why I tried alcohol, and then marijuana, and then whatever I could get my hands on. I would do whatever, because I wasn’t addicted to the substance, I was addicted to escaping. In recovery, I have been able to build a life for myself and have done enough emotional healing, that I don’t want or need to escape.
Drug addiction was really just a symptom of the traumas I was facing every day. As a child, I didn’t have the skills to process what I was going through. That’s what I wish more people would try to understand about addiction: it’s not always a bad choice that gets people into addiction. I personally did not have a lot of great options. I don’t regret it, and I wouldn’t change it. I hurt a lot of people, though. I hurt myself a lot. I had very little self-worth. I was unable to build because it was always one step forward, then I would just fall off a cliff. Again, and again, and again. It often felt like that was all I would ever be. I tried so many times to get clean, and I wasn’t able to.
Now I get to help people that may be struggling with anything. I try to treat everyone like they are going through something. That person addicted to drugs, that may be their only option. That, or die. That’s why they’re willing to risk their life.
I got to the most rock bottom place. All the things you hear that people do in addiction; I did them. I had nothing, and I was nothing, and that’s how I felt. For me, addiction was like my brain replaying the same three-and-a-half-minute tape over and over and over. It’s insanity. I just couldn’t stop because every time I did, I was faced with me and my emotions.
Once I got clean, I just needed life to be good for a while. I sought to experience as much joy as possible in the first few years of recovery. I’m glad I didn’t jump right into working on the heavy stuff. It had been 16 years battling addiction at that point. Now, I wake up every day, and I want to get out of bed. I still deal with difficult feelings around my past, but now I know it will end. Before recovery, I thought I would end before it would end.
The reward of getting out of addiction, for me, was not a house or car, salary, or successful career. It’s an inner peace and this ability to be with myself. My experience in this world now is such a gift. The novelty has not worn off, even after 10 years. I still cry with gratitude regularly. I’m so grateful for every emotion, even the difficult ones. Today, I get to decide who I am, and I like myself. And that’s something no one and nothing can take from me. It wasn’t easy, but I was just DONE. I was either going to take myself out of this world or give it one last go and try everything that I had never tried before. That’s what I did, and it was hard. I had to learn to brush my teeth every day and shower regularly and remember to eat, not lie and break the law all the time, and make connections with people. I had to learn to show up and be reliable.
I attribute my recovery to many things: the support of my family, God and my faith, proper diagnosis and medication, therapy, connection, free self-help groups, and helping others.
Today, I thrive not in spite of my experiences, but largely because of them. I get to give the gift of my “lived experience” to others in hopes they may be able to avoid some of the same experiences and feelings. I’m someone that others want around now. I’m someone that is able to be a mentor, peer, and advocate for all people. I get to recover out loud. My message to others is that you’re not alone, and there is something so sweet on the other side. Recovery is not a straight line, so give yourself some grace. I have this tattooed on me: “The secret of life, though, is to fall seven times, and to get up eight times.” That’s it. That’s how I did it. That’s the secret. Never give up. Never stop trying. You are worth it, and your life is worth saving.
* Content Notes are provided by NAMI NH and 603 Stories to inform readers of potentially sensitive topics and materials that are discussed within the featured story.
Resources:
https://www.naminh.org/resources/sudresources/
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