I am on the road, not less travelled ~ but wish I had. I am at step 1, which is to say that I am in the beginning of this process of recovery. I've been so out of it, I can't imagine that I am in this place in my head. I seemingly have it all together to those on the outside, but it's just an illusion, a mask. I have recently come to understand that I am really an addict. I'd rather say, or like to say " I have addictive tendencies". Hmmmph. Well, it's time I got real with myself about that. I don't want to go around telling people that I am a closet addict. When you are supposed to be honest about your addiction, does that mean that you need to be candid with the world about this?
About me. I am a 41 year old, Stay at Home mother to 3 boys, ages 15 almost 16, 12 almost 13, and 5. I am happily married, to a wonderful, loving, caring, devoted man - who actually thinks I'm great despite all my neurosis. He is a great support for me and yet, I need to look inward now. I'm blessed though, and I know it. I have had problems with addiction since my teens, although I really rationalized that it was all behind me, it wasn't/isn't. My addiction began as a child, with food. As a teen, I drank but liked drugs more. I loved to get high with Acid. I tended to like stimulants mostly, but I smoked my share of pot too. In my 20's I was introduced to coke and eventually became hooked. I wasn't prostituting or anything like that, but I sought it out - and it became the focus of my life. The irony? I was a pharmacy tech. At one point, a relative introduced me to the needle, and I think that was the catalyst in the addiction. Fortunately, I had access to clean needles and never shared. I was with the person who showed me how to do it and did it with her at that time (SU), and other occasions, I was always alone. I never did crack or heroin, thankfully. I would probably have been gone. Instead, I had a needle fall out of my purse in front of my mother. She was shocked to say the least, and despite her being an alcoholic, she was gravely ill at that time with a neurological disease. It was one of the worst moments for me. For her to know that I was at that place in my life. She new I partied, but never dreamed that this would be me. She never said a word to me, but the pain in her eyes was enough for me to quit. The next day I went to N/A. It was the last time I had ever gotten high with coke. That was 17 years ago. But other things came my way, and again, I rationalized that I was "clean"