drugs

‘Where is my son? You aren’t the person I raised,’ she said through tear-filled eyes. She was curled up having a nervous breakdown on the bathroom floor. Pleading me to stop, but I can’t do that.’

“Cops showed up at my mom’s house looking for me. She and I would hide behind the couch. She was my biggest enabler. Then, she had enough. With all of her jewelry, she said, ‘Is there anything you can sell so you can stop?’ There wasn’t anything real left. I had already sold it all.”

‘I wasn’t the stereotypical addict on the streets with no teeth, begging for money. I had children. I was functioning. I’d get up, eat, go to the gym. Then, I’d go on a bender for days.’

“I’d do whatever I could to distract myself from the fact that I felt alone. I always wanted to stop, but I didn’t know how. People around me knew, but never said anything. It made me feel like it was okay. I didn’t realize I needed to change until I lost my children. I decided if I couldn’t beat this and see my kids again, I’d kill myself.”

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