As I burrowed myself into my new pill addiction, it manifested itself slow in the beginning then dictated my every move. My intention was to stay at home until I could get on my feet and build my new life. My sober life. I sojourned myself playing "house" with Eric. Once I was aware of becoming out-of-control with my new obsession, Adderall, I panicked. I hated myself for doing what I hated again. I wanted to pretend it would be okay. If only, I could get my apartment and start attending my meetings, I could save myself and my family from the unnecessary pain I inflicted onto them and me while in active addiction. Different scenario, same story. One outcome.
I wrestled a lot for a month. Once it began to interfere with my work, I tried to stop. I could not. I made every excuse when it was time for my prescription refill that I needed it to function. Truth be told, it affected my behavior in such a drastic way that my boss was sincerely concerned. I had become friends with my colleagues. They knew mine and Eric's history. Obviously, they did not know everything, but my boss was fully aware of my search for an apartment. They were aware of my addictive past with alcohol. Soon after, they would witness head-on what living in active addiction looks like. I dissociated like I had always done (in uncomfortable situations) and acted like I was fine.
It started with Adderall. It ended with heroin and cocaine and my daddy finding me out-of-it underneath my bed. Let me rewind the tape back to all the madness in- between. I thought I was "functional" while eating and snorting the drug with vodka. I referred to it as my "cocktail." In laymen's terms, it is a polydrug mixture of a stimulant and depressant. Another common term is speedballing. My body was under immense stress while all the toxic substances entered it daily.
I started my morning with Adderall. At lunch, I would go to the liquor store and purchase six 100 proof mini vodkas. I would chase Gatorade with it as I sat in my car. Usually, I would turnup three of them and leave three for my drive back home. It was insanity. If I was too geeked up from the night before, I would take a shot or two on my way to work; to calm my nerves. It is hard to wrap my mind around that behavior, but it allows me to recognize the intensity of addiction and the powerlessness it holds over one's life. It is a disorder in the brain. Some believe it is a disease and others believe it is not.
I will tell you, firsthand, from my experience that it is a disease. And it spreads like a wildfire if it ever transpires from remediation. On the other hand, do I feel like God has healed me. Absolutely. But I am not naive to think, one lapse in judgement or if I become spiritually bankrupt, I will not find myself there again. That is why I put on my full armor of God and stay alert.
{1 Peter 5:8-10
Be of sober spirit, be on the alert. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. But resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same experiences of suffering are being accomplished by your brethren who are in the world. After you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself perfect, confirm, strengthen and establish you.
God knew we would have troubles in this world. The enemy is fully aware of my weaknesses. And guess what? I am too. I own my mistakes and the ugly parts of myself I struggle with. I became capable of sharing it with others once I realized God forgives me and I forgive myself. You see, I was not spiritually sound while using substances and my entire being felt the heaviness with the unalignment. I was searching for a piece only God himself can fill. God's love changed me. God's love helps me love. God's love covers a multitude of sins. God's love makes all things new. God's love is eternity.
Finally, I found an apartment my dad helped me purchase. My dad and stepmother traveled to Georgia to help me create my new beginning. I was excited. I made the decision that once I ran out of my prescription, I would not get it refilled. I felt I had too much going for me, and I had to stay strong for my children. I hated using alcohol and drugs. Most people think addicts use drugs for fun. That is NOT the case. We are in so much infliction while impaired. We hate ourselves and the damage we cause but cannot stop on our own- in most cases. The first week, I remained sober. Eric and I decided we would share the kids bi-weekly. On the weekends, if we wanted to see them, we would allow it. Ironically, for the most part, Eric and I were getting along great. By the time, I moved into my new apartment, I secretly felt sad, although I was excited. I was torn. Eric and I were together, and I did not want to leave him. I wanted my cake and to eat it too. The second week when the kids were with Eric, I fell apart. I would come home to an empty apartment and left with my own self. I did not like it at all. I missed my kids and the familiarity of having Eric present. Whether we were together or not, we always seemed to move on from the wretched situations we instigated ourselves. I began drinking and picked-up my refill. The internal war continued. Overnight, the unthinkable happened and I went over-the-edge.
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