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Internal Shame. Part Four.

Updated: Mar 2

The next morning, my internal shame felt unbearable. I wanted to wake, and it all not be real. The heaviest of my own poor choices with my babies in the car was eating at my consciousness. I tried to make the excuse that I was not even really "drinking." Two shots was not "drinking" or should have not made me impaired. I drank a lot of vodka and two shots on my small frame I could handle without a doubt- like a champ- I thought. It was the mixer of my cocktail that was deadly. The anti-depressant and my frame of mind. I still refused to believe I had a problem with alcohol. I believed it was my current circumstance. I knew I was addicted to escaping my pain, but I truly thought it was not abnormal to drink and take pills like I did. In reality, I had been drinking heavily and taking substances for years and sadly it was catching up to me at lightning speed. I used to function, and I was becoming more and more non-functional. The issue is that I stopped "feeling" the effects of one or two and became a slave to more alcohol and more pills and more escapism. I would not even allow the substances to "take the edge off" until I was consuming more.

Eric told me his mother was on her way. I let him know, "you can't take the kids away from me. You drink and drive too Eric. You just have not got caught with the kids in the car." And while all that may have been true- I delayed so much of my own healing and recovery because I was focused on what Eric was able to get away with while I always got caught. And I was becoming bitter by the minute that I appeared to be unhinged when he took the same substances. It affected me differently than Eric. I was reckless and Eric was not. He knew when to stop and I did not. I was all or nothing and on a road of destroying myself. I was toxic. I loved to throw in his face all his wrongdoings and his past DUI's when I was becoming out-of-control. Eric was not becoming completely sloppy and trying to function as normal. I was. Eric was drinking to unwind and to deal with stress (me) and I was drinking myself into another demonic led world. Like I said, the effects of substances had a much larger stronghold on my mind. It was volatile to my soul and spirit. It went against all my beliefs in God. I was sinning against myself and sinning against my savior. The devil played well on my weak points. I was right where the evil doer of this world wanted me...suicidal.

I left for my apartment but not without stopping by the liquor store first. My phone was ringing off the hook by my parents. I left and started my binge that lasted about three or four days. I was missing the kids and had never been away from them like this. I did not know what to do with myself. I stayed drunk. I would wake and drink. pass out and drink again. I could not see a way out. I wanted to die. The first DUI made me feel like I had failed at life, and I felt so ugly. To Eric and my family, I tried to play it off like I was okay, but they knew I was not. And honestly it was very detrimental to my well-being but also my first "awakening" that I could not control my behavior while drinking vodka. (I was still living in the delusion that it was about "vodka."

I was fighting my internal shame and guilt that comes from the insanity of addiction. I hated that I drank but also did not know how to function in life without it. It sounds simple- if it is causing so much pain and destroying your family...why would you not just stop? It is not that simple. People who suffer from addiction- I promise you- 95% of them hate that they are a slave to it and wish they could stop. Good news can...but not by yourself. At least not from my own experience. I have tried in the past to change what I drank, when I drank, and modify how much I drank and had no success. My daddy would always say, "you have to be strong in your mind. Put it down. Be a strongminded person Jill. I would never allow something to control me like this." I felt like an even bigger loser which made me cope by drinking more.

One late night, I ran into the woods with a knife. (I have never told anyone this story) I ran with a bottle of vodka and decided maybe I should just end it. The voice while intoxicated that I would be better off dead and my kids would be better off- screamed in my psyche. I sat there in the dark, as it started to rain... I prayed and eventually dosed off to sleep. I woke early in the morning-it was daylight and walked back to my apartment. I called Eric and asked him to come over. "I need help. I will go to treatment."

Days earlier he mentioned to get the family off our butts that I needed to check into rehab. And obviously, I needed it. In my head, treatment was for junkies. The people with paper sacks and no home. As you can see, over the years, God has humbled me and showed me how to love myself and others. I used to judge them type of people- the "people" I was becoming.

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