Recently @CharmedChelsie contacted Midwestern Mama to ask about publishing a guest blog post. It’s so helpful to get a young person’s perspective on addiction and recovery. Enjoy – and learn – from her post.
I believe it started when my parents separated. Being such a daddy’s girl back then, it really shook me up when he wasn’t in my life as much. My mom move me and my brother five hours away and I felt like my whole world came crashing down. Angry at my mom this is when I truly started rebelling for the first time. I was around 11 when I started not listening to anyone and getting angry very easily. No one saw the pain, I was just a spoiled brat with a mother who wasn’t disciplining me enough, which didn’t help because I actually felt the opposite of spoiled. I just had my dad, aka my whole world, taken from me. Seriously I used to follow my dad everywhere. He was the person I admired the most.
People kept telling my mom she needed to be stricter with me but it honestly didn’t matter what she did I wasn’t listening. She could ground me or whatever but unless she was ready to physically fight me I was listening.
I didn’t do anything to crazy then besides stay out late, skip class, smoke cigarettes and hanging out with the wrong people, especially boys.
I missed my dad and wanted to live with him so when he asked me to move there I drove my mom crazy until she agreed to let me go. I realize now that my dad being really hurt by the separation ended up putting me in a difficult situation. He made me feel like I needed to take care of him and that his happiness was my responsibility. I was only 11 when I was left home alone for days at a time. My dad was a truck driver and was gone a lot. Alone in a big city, I had to do the groceries, clean, make supper, pack my lunch, do my homework, get to school and not tell anyone about it because if I did they would take me away from my dad.
The burden I had to bare then still affects me now.
My dad wasn’t just using coke but was also selling in bulk. At 12 I was old enough to get suspicious and when I asked my dad what he was hiding he was honest with me. He believed keeping my trust was more important than keeping his secret. Whether he was right or wrong for telling me is debatable The first time I saw coke I was 12 years old, there was over a kilo of coke on our kitchen table. He asked me to sit down and help count the money and cut bags up for him. Not the typical childhood I know but it was our secret and he made me feel like I was a responsible adult. It was hard sometimes not to spill to my best friend at our sleepover parties but I was so scared I’d be taken away from my dad that I didn’t say a word to anyone.
Just before I turned 13 my dad started dating an escort and we barely got to spend time together anymore. I was alone all week and on the weekends she would be there and he would tell me to go play with her kids, like I wasn’t important anymore. She started smoking weed with me and her oldest daughter. My dad didn’t smoke weed but he didn’t seem to mind. She ended up leaving me in a bad part of town when she had a fight with my dad. It was a terrifying experience, I was lost and barely made it back home. My dad promised me it was over between them but when he started seeing her again I felt so betrayed that I decided to move back to my moms.
I had a friend there whose brother was prescribed Percocet and he would give us handfuls for free. This was back before anyone knew what the pills were.
Thankfully, I ended up moving to my dad’s before I was too physically dependent on them.
Once at my dad’s, I was smoking weed and doing ecstasy until my dad eventually offered me some coke for the first time when I was 14. I wanted so bad to spend more time with him that doing coke together was great way for me to do that. Then my stepmom would give me coke while my dad was at work because she wanted me to be quiet about her using or hanging out with some guy. The partying became all too much that I decided to move back to my mom’s at 15. She got me my own place and I tried to get my shit together. I got a job and was working on getting my high school diploma but accustomed to that lifestyle I found myself dating a dealer. He quickly moved in with me and the large amounts of coke I did everyday had me severely addicted.
By 16 I was a full-blown coke addict.
We eventually started doing Oxys to relax and sleep after a coke binge but I wasn’t exactly addicted yet. Once my dad got me a connection to start selling the pills I did so much of them that my body really couldn’t go without them. By the time I turned 17 I was addicted to oxys. I had no idea what I was in for. I knew nothing of addiction or the negative effects of drugs. I was taught drugs were great but when I eventually accumulated debt, and my selling career was over I realized how much I needed it. My body cried out for more. The aches and pains took over any control I had over my mind. I soon realized my body needed the oxy and my mind wanted the coke. Once I was high on coke, nothing else mattered. But once the high went away, my body screamed for an oxy.
I was able to go without coke way longer then I could go without oxys. I’d even quit coke for a bit here and there. But Oxys was the one thing that I couldn’t just stop because the withdrawals were too severe. After getting on methadone, I wasn’t ruled by my body as much as my mind.
In a way, trying to fix the mind can be even more confusing and difficult then fixing the body.
Read Chelsie’s blog: Recoveringaddictsexperience.blogspot.ca