I come from an alcoholic/drug addict family (We can't even have a funeral without a keg in it). I remember one Christmas where my dad had come home drunk, so my mom drug him up the stairs while his head hit every step with a loud thud. We thought that was funny (a part of me still does). When I was 9 years old, I was sexually molested by my grandfather. After that is when my life changed. I developed schizophrenia. Started smoking pot at age 10. Would even do that thing where you breathe in and out really fast and have a friend press on your heart until you pass out. I did everything I could to escape myself. When I was 13, I started to drink. I didn't start with beer or wine coolers like most people. My first real taste of getting drunk was off of Seagrams VO. I got drunk; got sick; and i loved it. I started doing that every weekend with my cousins and my friends. It then led to every night. Sneaking vodka into school. My mom found my vodka once in my closet. She yelled at me and put it in the cabinet. So I just went and got another bottle. Liquor stores didn't care back then. A cab would deliver alcohol to your door if you said it was for your mom. That's pretty much how high school and a few years later went. When I was 21, I got pregnant with my daughter. I still smoked pot and drank while pregnant with her, but when she was born, my life changed for the better. I gave everything up. 15 months after that, my son was born. But when my son was only 1 year old, their father left me for another woman. I tried to get by with just me, but between my mental illness, which I never went to the doctor for, and trying to work 2-3 jobs, I found that I couldn't do it. It became too hard. So when my son was 6 years old, I sent him to live with his dad in Florida. A year later, I gave my daughter to my sister. And I drank, a lot. It was the hardest thing I ever did, but it was necessary for them to have better lives. I am crying right now just typing this. My daughter once asked me why I gave them up for alcohol. I told her "I didn't give you up because I drank. I drink because I gave you up". I was about 28 when my alcoholism hit full force and it didn't stop until last year. I lived so many days not knowing what happened the day before. Or wondering how I got a bruise. I should say that when I am drinking, my schizophrenia is in check. But when I am wasted (which I normally was) the imaginary friends came out to play, and some of them were very violent. I was a danger to myself in more ways than one, but you couldn't tell me that. I was in control. When I was 43, I found myself drunk and homeless in Texas. I came back to Maryland and checked myself into rehab. I went from there into a longer stay rehab and stayed for 4 months. When I got out, my daughter (of all people) let me stay with her. We drank together occassionally,but it was under control, until one day. Her boyfriend had stolen money from me to buy beer and drugs. I took the beer, got drunk and went on my usual drunken rampage. I threatened not only to kill myself, but I was going to take him with me. I said this in front of 2 state troopers and won a one way ticket to the psych ward. The hospital kept me for 2 weeks then shipped me off to another rehab. When I got out this time, I was homeless again. I ended up staying at a homeless shelter, which was the best thing that ever happened to me. I stayed sober while I was there. That was May 2016. In September 2016, I moved into a place, but didn't like the people. I had problems with one of the other residents and relapsed. Later that month, I went to stay at the shelter again and stayed sober until I moved out in January. 3 days after I moved out, my aunt (whom I loved like a mom) passed away suddenly and I relapsed again. Only it wasn't just once. I was drinking again and feeling suicidal. Some friends and myself deemed it best if I go back into rehab, which I did. I had been sober since Febuary 21, 2017 and then relapsed again in January of this year. Now I'm back on the wagon and trying to piece my life back together again.
I shall sing that first line twice, and perhaps if I sing it very quickly, I shall find myself singing the third and fourth lines before I have time to think of them, and that will be a Good Song.
Great Post!
Thank you.
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Troy Green (dynamicryptominer)
USN Veteran & father of 5
I do top 10 articles, memes, growing, mining, investing, travel and photography are a few of my hobbies I post about. (I upvote 90% of comments on my posts)
Sounds like life has been tough for you... I really hope that you can find something to help. I know mental disorders are hard ones to deal with and can't even imagine how hard yours is to contain. I have severe anxiety and bi-polar depression, and I lose it every once in a while... So I know how it feels. Just keep your head up and find yourself a rock that will keep you steady. Good luck.
My rock is a 3 year old who calls me Grandma. He is my light :)