I've always had a dark side as far back as I can remember. As the child of two addicts I knew I have a family history that makes me more capable of slipping off the end and I used to walk a fine line with things. I married an addict and although he was clean when we were married I will never forget that pre-walk talk with my dad who said "once an addict always an addict"... boy was he right.
I'm from an upper class family from small town California. My parents we're married 28 years before they split when I was 18, I was sheltered to an extent...my mother would've liked us much more sheltered but she married my father and he is who he is. I grew up knowing drug addicts knowing they aren't bad people. My mother judges everyone as if she's perfect. My father judges no one saying you never the whole story enough to judge anyone. I grew up in a male dominated industry and fought to make my own name for myself rather than being the daughter and granddaughter of well respected men. Today....I'm the wife of someone well respected in the same industry. I married my father in a lot of ways and I don't regret or deny it.
When I was pregnant with my first child I was sure my husband was cheating on me, I had a total breakdown to one of his friends when we were driving to a campsite and his friend told me that it's not a woman it's drugs....in a way I still felt cheated on. I took the advice of his friend and didn't push the issue and it cleared up before our daughter was born. After her birth I was rx'd pain meds and I knew he took them on a recreational basis so I didn't mind....I had no idea his previous behavior was pain med related as he had been a meth user prior.
His addiction turned into mine as well as I chose to jump off that cliff with the pain meds with him. I'm a big girl and make my own choices, I don't hold him responsible for it except for the fact it would've never happened had I known that he had only been off pain meds a few months when we started again. This was a revelation he chose to drop on me the first time I used meth. I locked myself in our bathroom and called my dad and told him I was high and needed to call 911 that I was dying. My dad rushed across town and sat with me and convinced me it was a panic attack and I was fine! the LAST thing I needed was the police or EMT's at my house as once I admitted to the fact I was high on meth and had been running it for a girlfriend of mine I was SCREWED. I survived the experience and have only touched meth a handful of times since.
The pill addiction spiraled out of control over the years and I ignored it because I didn't want to stop...I liked who I was with them, and people liked me better. I always argued with my husband that he was addict because of his mental addiction and I was just dependent on them not to feel shitty.
I own my shit I like to think until a few days ago....I'm an addict. I went through 5 days of hell W/Ding and have since started using again in very small doses. I don't feel physical W/D without them except I feel the pain that they were rx'd to hide. I laid in the bath and knew I had 2 pills in the cabinet and it was all I could do not to jump out and take them. I realized I am mentally addicted also. I guess accepting it is the first step.
My problem is I don't desire to NEVER touch them again but dear husband has no self control and since we use together and I'm a good submissive wife I give in every time, I don't know where this is going to go or end up.
I'm from an upper class family from small town California. My parents we're married 28 years before they split when I was 18, I was sheltered to an extent...my mother would've liked us much more sheltered but she married my father and he is who he is. I grew up knowing drug addicts knowing they aren't bad people. My mother judges everyone as if she's perfect. My father judges no one saying you never the whole story enough to judge anyone. I grew up in a male dominated industry and fought to make my own name for myself rather than being the daughter and granddaughter of well respected men. Today....I'm the wife of someone well respected in the same industry. I married my father in a lot of ways and I don't regret or deny it.
When I was pregnant with my first child I was sure my husband was cheating on me, I had a total breakdown to one of his friends when we were driving to a campsite and his friend told me that it's not a woman it's drugs....in a way I still felt cheated on. I took the advice of his friend and didn't push the issue and it cleared up before our daughter was born. After her birth I was rx'd pain meds and I knew he took them on a recreational basis so I didn't mind....I had no idea his previous behavior was pain med related as he had been a meth user prior.
His addiction turned into mine as well as I chose to jump off that cliff with the pain meds with him. I'm a big girl and make my own choices, I don't hold him responsible for it except for the fact it would've never happened had I known that he had only been off pain meds a few months when we started again. This was a revelation he chose to drop on me the first time I used meth. I locked myself in our bathroom and called my dad and told him I was high and needed to call 911 that I was dying. My dad rushed across town and sat with me and convinced me it was a panic attack and I was fine! the LAST thing I needed was the police or EMT's at my house as once I admitted to the fact I was high on meth and had been running it for a girlfriend of mine I was SCREWED. I survived the experience and have only touched meth a handful of times since.
The pill addiction spiraled out of control over the years and I ignored it because I didn't want to stop...I liked who I was with them, and people liked me better. I always argued with my husband that he was addict because of his mental addiction and I was just dependent on them not to feel shitty.
I own my shit I like to think until a few days ago....I'm an addict. I went through 5 days of hell W/Ding and have since started using again in very small doses. I don't feel physical W/D without them except I feel the pain that they were rx'd to hide. I laid in the bath and knew I had 2 pills in the cabinet and it was all I could do not to jump out and take them. I realized I am mentally addicted also. I guess accepting it is the first step.
My problem is I don't desire to NEVER touch them again but dear husband has no self control and since we use together and I'm a good submissive wife I give in every time, I don't know where this is going to go or end up.