Become More

I have reached a point in my life where I want to…Become more.

I want to help. Someone, anyone just not a boyfriend, I have tried and failed one too many times to try that again. I have always loved writing, I think I have a diary for every phase of my life starting in Grade 5 (I still have it), Jr high, every year of high school, my 1st love, my 2nd love, my 3rd love, to my 1st born daughter and all the craziness that came with that. Then the next 4 years I am sure I have at least 100 Notes to self, begging and pleading that this will be the last time, telling myself all the horrible things I was doing and how much I was hurting all the people that loved me. Telling myself it was not going to be like this forever, I was not going to be doing these stupid pills forever, stealing and lying to my parents, my family, my friends forever. I knew it, I could feel it, but it went on for what felt like forever, I had Bella a month before I turned 23, I was addicted to oxy-cotton by the time she was one.

I could not believe it, how, how could I get hooked on something? I had been doing drugs recreationally since I was 16. I had pretty much tried it all and never EVER became dependent on it……well maybe weed, but that was NOTHING like going through with-drawls from Oxys. For a long time, I blamed my Ex for introducing me to it, just after I had my daughter. Then breaking my heart and leaving me, when he had told me we were going to try and get back together, and then he just took off with 300$ he owed me to Vancouver. I was 23 just had a baby, and I know my hormones played a big part in how depressed I was after he left, the pills made me feel better, they helped me clean the house, so I kept doing them, here and there and then I remember one day thinking to myself, Geeze my arms are killing me, it felt like growing pains. Later that day I was talking to one of my girlfriends and she told me that, that is what happens when you do the pills too much…and then when you don’t have them, your body goes into with-drawls. I thought back and it had probably been about 2 weeks of me doing them everyday, and I was hooked. I knew if I got a pill that feeling in my arms would go away, so that’s what I did, thinking I would just have to deal with it another day. But another day didn’t come for a very very very long time. ...

About a month after my ex left I ended up finding my own apartment in the town right next to my parents so I moved out when my daughter was 3 months old, and like a fool I allowed a different ex of mine to move in with me under the pretences it would only be until he found his own place. Which was extremely stupid on my part, because I knew what he was like and that he would most likely never leave, but I didn’t care I was so hurt from the other guy, I guess maybe I did it to get back at him. Either way it was defiantly a bad decision. This guy was even worse then the other one when it came to drugs, he had always done more and worse drugs then I ever did, even when we were together before. It makes it much easier to do them when you have someone helping figure out where you are going to get the money to get them EVERYDAY! It also makes you feel a lot less like you have a problem when you have someone doing it with you. It always blew me away how we always both managed to find something and get high almost everyday, I always said if drug addicts could just use their resourcefulness to find good things, the downtown of every city would look a whole lot nicer!

This was how I lived for over a year, until I realized that it was not James’s fault it was not Randy’s fault, this was all on me, I had done this to myself, to my daughter’s mother. I had let it get this bad, I was now 24 working at 2 different jobs and still not even keep up with my subsidized rent. My daughter who was only 1 but would either have to listen to me and Randy fighting all the time, or listen to her mama cry. I felt like the worst mother ever, I had become something I never thought I would, once I became a mother I wouldn’t make those stupid mistakes, I would stop thinking about myself and only think of my little girl, but as most addicts know, it is a lot easier said then done.

There is a voice, in every addict’s head, sometimes more then one voice, and no I am not talking like crazy voices, I am talking about your conscious, your insecure voice, your fuck it voice, it’s almost like the angel and the devil sitting on your shoulder. I suppose there are 2 kinds of addicts. The 1st one is the one that doesn’t care about anything and has let the disease completely take him/her over, most likely these people are the ones that have NO ONE, never had any real role models to look up to or the ones they did look up to were drug addict or alcoholics, parents were addict and thus never taught them any other coping skills other then abusing a substance to deal with their problems or even how to make a living. I don’t believe these people want to or can be saved, those people will have not gotten this far in reading my story. Then the 2nd kind of addict, the kind still reading my story, because they want to believe that there is hope that they too can and will get better. I am here to tell you that YES YOU CAN!!! It wont be easy, and you will most likely have to stop talking to all the people you believe you can not live with out. But it can be done, I am living proof of it, but this is only the beginning of my story.