I have never, in all my years online, posted my recovery story anywhere before now. I admit it's a bit scary to do this, but it's time.
Warning, I am really long-winded!!
For the first 33 years of my life I lived under a veil of secrecy--secrecy about my father hurting me, hiding from me in a department store, secrets about his threats to kill me, my suicide attempts, then as an adult I continued to keep secret anything which I thought would be cause for ridicule or punishment. During childhood, I always tried to cover up my mistakes because I was afraid of my parents and teachers who were abusive. At that point, I was a really good kid and most of my lies really were to save myself from real harm, but that set up a pattern of deceit for decades. A lot of trauma built up during my childhood. I was physically and emotionally harmed daily by my father. My mother did nothing to stop him, never even acknowledged what he was doing, although she knew. In fact, she did more damage to my self-esteem than he did. She daily told me what a problem I was and that something was wrong with me, that I caused all their marital problems, that I made her want to kill herself. She threatened suicide, holding out a handful of pills saying, "Look! Just look what you almost made me do!" These instances were all when I complained about a chore or bickered with my brother, normal stuff. Otherwise, I was as straight-laced as any kid could be. I did as I was told. I worked hard for my father each day, lifting and installing air conditioners from the time I was 10 years old, cleaning house and cooking, then cleaning some more. My father was like a mad-man, doing bizarre things like calling me home from school to clean the kitchen, making me miss the bus to school (yes, physically holding me back)so I would get in trouble there too, forcing me to use scissors to cut the grass from around every tree and down both sides of the driveway. My brothers never had to turn a hand until I moved off to college. I did all this without rebelling because I was terrified to do anything that would truly deserve punishment. After all, if my father was able to find some reason to hurt me every day if I even looked away from him, what would he have done if I defied him??? When I was 13 and got run over by a truck, my parents refused to let the ambulance take me, despite the fact that I had been knocked out cold and couldn't stand. They drove me to the hospital myself, berating me, saying it was my fault and that I had caused them a lot of trouble by getting run over. Never once did either parent ask if I was in pain, neither asked if I needed anything, neither hugged or touched me, neither said they were glad I was okay. I remember sitting in a wheelchair at the hospital and after the nurse walked away, my mother started in on me again. I just wanted it all to be over. My parents kept my shirt with the tire track across it and my broken glasses in plain view all the time for a couple of years to remind me of what I had done. For years I drew pictures of myself being run over and a tombstone with my name on it, wishing I had died. I truly believed they hated me, but I could not understand why, or why they even had me. They raised me in a very strict, conservative church that taught they were the only ones going to heaven, that I had to be almost perfect to get there, and that all my little friends who went to other churches were going to hell and it would be our fault for not making them see the "truth" that our church claimed. That church taught that I could be saved one day and hell-bound the next. I knew only a vengeful, punishing God that made it almost impossible to avoid hell fire. I had nightmares weekly that the end of time came and satan came to get me. I hated myself, I didn't know what love was, I thought I was subhuman and unloveable. I have NO memory of ever being hugged or held. I am 39 years old today and neither parent has EVER said "I love you." I got in lots of trouble at school for not having my homework done, as if I could possibly sit down and concentrate on homework knowing my father would walk in any second and beat me, possibly to death. I suffered from migraines 2-3 times per week, I lay in bed with terrible stomach cramps from stress and lived in fear for my life every day. By the time I was 9 or 10 years old, classmates picked up on the fact that I was an easy target for bullying and teasing. They teased me to tears daily for a couple of years, until I learned how to numb myself. The rest of my high school years they drew pictures of me on the blackboard every day, pictures of me getting run over by a truck. I lived with this until the day I graduated. Also from a young age, teachers didn't like me and labeled me a bad kid because I was terribly quiet, kept my head hung low and answered their questions with shrugs. During my teen years, I attempted suicide several times. I began self-mutilation because my parents convinced me I was a worthless peice of chit so stupid I couldn't even see how messed up I was. One example of his emotional abuse when when i was 16. I was taking martial arts, I was 133 lbs and rock solid at 5'3". My father told me I was such a fat cow no man would ever have me. I self-mutilated to pick up where my father left off, because I thought I deserved even more beatings. I did that well into college and for another period of time in my 30's. I had difficulty forming healthy relationships with friends. I cut and run from every boyfriend, usually within weeks, because I was afraid they would someday beat me (yes, this was before I figured out that I am gay). I was extreeeeeemely jumpy. Friends thought it was funny to sneak up on me, touch the back of my neck and see how high my books flew. I under-reacted to almost everything I should have been assertive about, because I was afraid of making people mad, afraid I would be physically hurt. I felt my only way to survive in life was to always be quiet, always do exactly what I was told to do, do it perfectly, avoid eye contact and do nothing to draw attention to myself. I say all this about my childhood only to show how I got so messed up, why I was so desperate for relief in drugs and how far I've come in recovery. I thought that when I turned 18 I could get away from my parents and that whole dysfunctional town, and I could be okay. But I was wrong. After attending a christian college for 3 years, 100 miles from home, making GOOD friends, attending church and counseling, I still could not stop the pain and the nightmares. I was a constant bundle of nerves. At this point, age 21, I was still a virgin, I was planning to be a missionary to spread the gospel, I had no experience with booze or other drugs. I was a real clean cut kid.
I remember the night I made a conscious decision to pick up the first drug, because I couldn't stand the pain anymore. I remember how much I liked it and that I knew I would never stop, not because I felt high, but because it helped me forget, it helped me not keep thinking about the past. Doesn't matter what or how much I used. I was addicted right away, as if addiction had been lying in wait, ready to claim me from the moment I was born. I did not have several years of fun times, nor did I have a gradual progression into addiction. From the first time I drank, I was drinking nearly every day. Friends noticed right away that something was wrong because I went from hanging out with them every night to avoiding them so i could drink. Within a month I was drinking hard liquor in massive amounts in the mornings and fighting with that roommate. I suddenly lost all morals. I lost that virginity within 2 months of the first drink. I became immediately promiscious, started cutting classes, failing, and getting into trouble for having certain animals in my room. I was trying to buy love and affection from pet stores. After I started using, I regularly had at least 100 fish, hamsters, and lizards in a tiny dorm room. I had a rabbit caged in the science building. Even kept a snake in my dorm room closet, and some guinea pigs too. Roommate had no idea about the snake being in my closet. Wasn't actually allowed to have anything but the fish, but i thought I was above the rules after I started using. That roommate quickly got away from me, so I got one who also liked the things I liked, except she didn't do it to excess. I could use in front of her and she wouldn't rat me out to the school, which would have expelled me. I canceled my plans for missionary work and dropped out of the missionary's program. I quickly moved on to other drugs. I had an immediate and unsatiable obsession and compulsion to use more and more. I lost all control, all morals, and I became someone nobody recognized. I tried to stop many times, and failed. There were overdoses and otherwise scary trips. I turned again to friends, to counseling and to church, but I could not stop using. My new roommate suffered greatly from my addiction. She worked across town and every time she heard sirens, she rushed home, terrified that it I was dead. People said that she and I had fights while I was drunk, that the police came, and my counselor too, but the cops wouldn't do anything. Counselor said he saw me walking through town all bruised up, but I just don't remember any of it. Roommate begged me regularly to get some help, so I would show some small effort, like drinking only after 5:00 (which never lasted more than a few days), or I would tell her how sorry I was, how hard I was trying...I hid bottles. I only tried to appease her because she was my ride to the liquor store. Anyway, roommate finally couldn't take it anymore. One day she came and sat on the edge of the bed, where I was half drunk, half asleep. She said to me "I'm leaving now, I'll be back in 30 minutes, and when i get back I want you to have decided to get some help, or I want you dead." She left. Well, seeing as she was obviously more serious this time, and how she was my only transportation to the next town over where they sold liquor, I knew I had to do a little more to keep her happy. I let her call a rehab. I went and talked to someone for a little while, then let her take me to an aa meeting, then she took me to the liquor store as a reward. I liked that!! So we just made that our routine a few nights each week-- meeting + liquor. About a month later, I did finally realize I had to quit long enough to finish school or I was going to flunk out. I also knew that I couldn't quit on my own. So I went to rehab, then aa, knowing full-well I would use again some day, but willing to stay clean for the final push through until graduation.
For the first year of recovery, I worked hard, built some real faith and those AA promises started coming true for me, but after that, I had no commitment to stepwork or using a sponsor. I used only the steps and principles that I liked, never going beyond step 5. I absolutely did not want to live the way the steps suggested. I continued to lie, cheat, steal and keep my secrets and thoughts hidden. I just wasn't using. It felt crappy. *I* felt crappy, but continued to justify what I was doing, thinking I deserved the things I stole, I deserved admiration, I deserved extra time off from work, etc.... But the truth was I see-sawed all day long between self-loathing suicidal thoughts and thinking I was better than everyone else. I never had a good day. All may days were spent wishing I had more stuff, more respect, more money, a nicer house, nicer clothes......constantly thinking about how badly everyone treated me... constantly worrying about what people were saying about me...and about whether I would get caught that day for something I did. I shared in meetings trying to sound good, never sharing pain, never sharing about defects, and I certainly never would admit when I wanted to use because that might look like weakness. I wanted the status of good recovery without doing the work and thought I was fooling people  I never could relax because I was always afraid today would be the day the truth came out. People told me all the time that I seemed to have very low self-esteem. They suggested I do affirmations, but I refused. I thought I did not deserve to feel better because, well, I had low self-esteem, duh! But also because I wasn't LIVING better. 
I found a man who would have me. Since my self-esteem was rock bottom, I thought he was my only chance to every marry (a status symbol to me) and have children. We were really from different worlds, he was incredibly irresponsible and had already abandoned 3 children. But I thought I could change him. He was in "recovery" and I was just too naive to see him for what he was. I self-willed the whole thing. Of course I didn't run it past a sponsor or anyone else. Friends and family tried to talk me out of it, but I wouldn't hear a word. I needed to believe that this man loved me and would be faithful to me. We married in 1991 after just 9 months of knowing each other. By then, I was done with college, but I couldn't use and stay married to my husband who was years into recovery. Well, just before our son was born, I got mad at aa and na because none of my friends came to the baby shower. I was hurt, but I hurt myself more by leaving the rooms. I had been clean for just over 4 years. A year later, in 1995, my husband relapsed after 9 years clean. At first I freaked out, calling HIS sponsor, etc...but I stayed with him. Just a few months later, at 6 years clean, I asked my husband to bring something home for me too, so with an 18 month old baby we were both off and running again. I did a lot of those things I said I would never do. My husband and I became physically aggressive with each other. I suspected him of cheating, but he denied it continuously. I routinely stole drugs from work. I started having a lot of conflicts with coworkers and I missed tons of work, being hungover or wanting to use. I even used on the job regularly. Got fired from a job. During this time, found out my husband had been in an 18-month affair and divorced him. So there I was, reeling from betrayal by my husband, using daily, no job, and trying to care for a 2-yr-old child alone. I just used more and more drugs, did more and more insane, dangerous and shameful things. I should probably mention here, just in case anyone is thinking the same thing I did: Just when I started using again, I told myself that if I ever felt it getting out of control that I would just go back to NA and quit using. Well, things didn't go according to plan. For the first year I kept telling myself I could still get things under control, that my new job (with great pay) was going to make me happy so I wouldn't need to use as much, that I could try harder, and if only people were nicer to me, etc...Well, I lost that new job after just 3 weeks and lost another great paying job just months later. After that first year I WANTED to go back to NA but I was too ashamed! I thought about it all the time. I wanted help and I wanted to die at the same time. I saw no way out except to return to NA and I just couldn't bear to let people see me in that shape. It took me yet another year to make it back!
So after 2 years of using, i finally got back to AA and NA, beaten bruised up all over, with poison ivy covering most of my body (I had a passion for mowing and weed-eating thick brush when I was high). I was so ashamed and so nervous I couldn't sit through a meeting. Before every meeting, I laid down in my car so no one could seeme while everyone else went in. Just after the meeting was to start, I snuck in to the back row. Most of the time, in the beginning, I got so panicked I ran out of the meeting before it was half over. Then I started leaving just before the meeting was over (so I wouldn't have to interact or look anyone in the eye). I knew a woman who had about 10 years clean and I wanted her to sponsor me. She said no. A day or so later I asked her again. She said no again, but continued coming out to my car after meetings to talk to me. Something in me just new she was the one. I was desperate and was willing to do whateever I was told to do. I was following her directions and I kept coming back to meetings 2-3 times per cay. Finally I asked her a third time and she agreed to be my sponsor. I became committed to using the program. I did whatever she told me to do, right down the the schedule I was supposed to follow each day, including reading the comics, LOL! I went to tons of meetings, did stepwork, service work, and really tried to live the program. But after a year I got a new job and I wasn't willing to give up certain transgressions, like cheating on timesheets. Though I told my sponsor 99% of what went on in my daily life, I always held on to a few things that I thought she would judge me for, like those timesheets and money I stole from family. I kept telling myself it was no big deal and that I wouldn't use over it. Otherwise, I tried to live a good life. At about a year clean I got my dream job, making better money than I had ever made, being in the best work environment I had ever been in. I was great at my job and was promoted to supervisor within 3 months. I got my finances in order and lived as a fairly responsible and productive member of society. I applied lots of spiritual principles in my life, but picking and choosing just didn't work. Even though I became a much better person in many ways, I remained as sick as my secrets  until I couldn't stand myself anymore. Resentments built up that I wasn't unwilling to work on. My self-esteem remained low because I refused to work on issues involving fear-based people pleasing. Even after being sexually violated quite a few times over the years, i still froze like a deer every time. I was not capable of protecting myself because I was too afraid of making the guy mad, or getting in trouble (all linked to childhood). I wouldn't address the low self-esteem that kept me away from women with good recovery and because I continued to live a dishonest life, pretending to be someone I wasn't  . I wouldn't deal with my stealing. Then one day it occurred to me "I don't need AA or NA! It's GOD that's kept me clean all this time and God will KEEP me clean." Somehow I fell into this trap of thinking I really would be okay without NA after being clean for 3 years. I thought I would even be happier since I could stay home evenings and spend time with my child instead of being out at meetings, etc. After 3 years clean, I left meetings, and history was repeated. But I cannot and will not sit here and try to tell you that it was an accident and I don't know how it happened. See, it didn't really just sneak up on me. I had NOT lived the NA program the way it is meant to be lived. There in the last year or so, I let resentments build up and I would NOT apply the program or any spiritual principles to them. I did NOT tell my sponsor I was even thinking of leaving. I did NOT share in meetings that I was struggling with resentments and wanted to leave. I had stopped working steps after step9 and had done nothing beyond step 9 in that last year. I did not sponsor anyone. I certainly did not tell anyone I was thinking of using again. The only thing I had done was service work at the area level that got me involved in a ton of controversy and I did NOT use spiritual principles to cope with that. I completed my term, turned in my notebooks, and walked out. Three months later I was using. And I never saw it coming.
If I had seen it coming, I don't know whether I would have done anything differently, but at least NOW I can see exactly where it all came from and I have learned from it. That relapse was for 9 months and it really did me in. As usual, I picked up right where I left off, being immediately out of control, using more and more drugs just to get through a day. I did even more things that I had sworn I would never do. I had blackouts almost daily during that relapse. Lost a promotion at work, got written up for skipping work so I could stay home hungover, stole more drugs, caused at least 3 wrecks that I can remember, went to work high, puking in the bathroom at work. I became very paranoid, always thinking I could smell drugs on myself, peeking out the windows, thinking people at work were plotting against me. People at work really were suspicious because I had so suddenly changed from easy going to extremely overbearing. I was soul sick, physically sick, and I was scared. I kept trying to get clean, using a few weeks, stopping for a few weeks, over and over, home detoxing repeatedly over 9 months, unable to stay clean, picking up white chips regularly. Finally my bottom: I immediately started using after work one day, stayed very loaded with my child at home. Last I remember was typing in a chat room and that I kept "coming too" then going out again. Next thing I know, the alarm clock is going off the next morning. I'll leave out some details here to protect my identity. Let's just say that when I woke up, I realized I had been up and about that night, doing things around the house in my blackout, but not in a safe fashion. I don't know how the house didn't burn down that night while I was in a blackout. Then I had crashed and my son had been unable to wake me up. In the morning, I drove him to school with double vision and while watching him enter the building, realized he had not had breakfast and was wearing the same clothes he had worn the day before. Just an hour later i ran my truck into a ditch. Later in the day I saw the logs of what i had written in the chatroom while blacked out. It was all jumbled up meaningless random characters and words. I blacked out again that afternoon, although I had used nothing since the night before. I was still messed up. I talked to someone on the phone who was trying to help me, but I couldn't remember a word of it. Then if that weren't all enough, roughly 24 hours after my last use, I heard my 7 yr old son crying in his bed. It was late and he was supposed to be sleeping. He was sitting up in bed with his eyes shut crying that he was hungry. At that moment I fell to my knees and begged God to help me stop using for my little boy because I couldn't stop. I begged and cried, feeling as low as I've ever felt. I have never used again since I was on my knees with my son and God that night April 16,2001.
When I went back to NA, I was willing to do ANYTHING and still am. I made my clean date April 17 because that was the first day that I was not under the influence, even though I had not put anything in my body since the 15th. At that point I decided I needed to stick with one fellowship. I moved to a town hours away where there was much stronger NA than what I had experienced. It was worth it. For the past 6 years I have been VIGILANT in heading off resentments and anything else that makes me want to avoid basics (like meetings, talking to sponsor), I have kept NO secrets. I don't go blab everything to the whole world, but there are people who know all my secrets, all my pain, all my twisted thinking and all the ways I act out. I no longer have to worry about rejection from sponsors, because I've already told them all the chit I did  and they did not run away. I no longer have to worry about whether the boss is going to catch me cheating on my timesheet or sneaking away from work. I don't have to worry about being caught in lies. I don't have to worry about being caught stealing things from employers, family or friends. I don't have to keep checking my purse every few minutes fearing that someone stole my dope (when no one's even in the house, LOL). I no longer have to worry about losing my child, my home, my possessions and going to jail because I got caught with a felony amount or for stealing it. I don't have to worry about crashing my car while high, with my son as a passenger. I don't have to worry about bill collectors because I got willing and did the work and cleaned up my side of the street (amends). I am grateful for all these things I don't have!
For the first time, I took all 12 steps, applied them in my life. I have learned to look at every problem and to ask myself what spiritual principles I can apply to it. I have learned how to apply honesty, open-mindedness, willingness, surrender, acceptance, faith, loyalty, generousity, humility, love, compassion, patience, tolerance, gratitude, integrity and many more in my daily life, not just in the rooms. The more I practice, the better I am able to do it without so much difficulty. But there is still so much to learn, so I stick with others who are learning too. And sometimes I just don' t want to be spiritual, I want to be a little kid and have a tantrum before I have to do the spiritual stuff. Thank God for a sponsor who reels me in before I get too far off! I continue going through the steps again and daily doing spot check inventories to see how I'm living. Because I started applying spiritual principles in my life, I have learned self-respect, for the first time in my life. Because I got HONEST about my self-loathing thoughts and irrational fears about people, I learned that I'm not alone!!!  I finally started learning to stand up for myself instead of cowering and running away from every indication of conflict. Because I got honest about things I had done, I learned to stop hating myself. Because I got willing to use the program to resolve resentments, I no longer sit around thinking about how much I hate anyone, nor am I acting out in revenge. I am no longer a twisted up ball of fear and rage. Heck, I even developed a silly streak! People actually tell me I'm funny!! I didn't know I had that in me! The old me was always quiet and afraid to speak up in front of others. Not anymore!! Because I tell on myself when I'm not wanting to go to meetings, my sponsor can work with me to keep me on track. I tell people when I'm depressed. I tell people when I'm not wanting to go to meetings. I tell people when i have to be on medication and I ask my sponsor to be involved in all medical decisions. Some people think it's rediculous, even demeaning that I do all these things, like letting people tell me I'm selfish. They say I use NA as a crutch, that I let other people make decisions for me, etc. Well, so be it! I need an NA crutch because I am unable to stand on my own for long. I need someone to help me see the truth about me so I can make changes. And it is not demeaning when I view it with humility. It is a gift to have these tools that I can choose to use in my daily life, so that I have a life worth living. Because of all this hard work, I haven't had to use in 6 years. I now can lay my head on the pillow at night with a clear conscience. When I look in the mirrow, I am mostly okay with the person looking back. Because of all this work, I know I don't have to settle for a relationship with just anybody who will have me. Today I have self-esteem and I will not settle for less than someone who is good and kind. I can finally be alone without feeling lonely. I'm more assertive and sometimes I can even stand up for myself when someone insults me. Today I am a good mother. I try hard to meet my child's physical, emotional and social needs and to teach him what I can about spirituality. I try to teach him about respect, hard work and friendship so that he will be ready to live out in the world when the time comes. We play together, we laugh together, we pray together. Every day we have hugs and kisses and "I love you" so that he will remember that he's always been loved. Today I have friends who can call me on the carpet, because I maintain those relationships with people who care enough to tell me the truth about myself. I also have a sponsor who is really into the deal. She has many years clean and works closely with me while I take the steps and apply them in my life. She calls a spade a spade so that I can see the truth about myself. I no longer search out sponsors who won't expect anything from me. Today it feels good to better myself. Today I have people I can call on when I need help. I have people I can talk to about totally irrational thoughts, because I came out of the darkness and found others who think and feel the same things. I don't have those thoughts of "if anyone ever knew I thought ____________ they would think I'm crazy". Today I understand the slogan "Never Alone, Never Again". I treasure the freedom I feel because I am doing the right things in my life today. I do stumble sometimes, but I've learned to accept myself just as I am and to simply try each day to live well in that 24 hours. I still haven't made a fortune, I still don't have that fancy house or the body I would like to have, but I am rich. I am rich because I have family and friends who trust me, who want to be a part of my life, because I have found purpose in life and I try to be a giver, not just a taker, because I've found a way to live this life walking side by side with others who understand me (the "WE" part of the program) and because I have finally found peace. They kept saying I could get here, but I didn't believe them. It's been hard, tragedy still happens and truama from the past still has some effect on me. But where I am now is such a far cry from where I was, people who knew me in the past often comment about how different I am. I get a real thrill when someone comments on how they never knew me to be so "fiesty" or "laid back". It's great when my son comments on how nutty I am when I do something funny or when he wants to have friends over because I'm ready to serve up the food and entertainment. It's the kind of life I only dreamed of before. Now I'm working to keep what I have been given in NA and to keep growing beyond. Today i don't want to just get by-- today I want to get better and "WE" can  |