shesnotcrazy
Greenlighter
- Joined
- Oct 16, 2018
- Messages
- 1
Where do I begin? Just so you know, this is super long. It?s basically a little background on my family and upbringing and then a brief description of my drug abuse. I am also very high right now while I am writing this which is why it is so long. But the Adderall is already flushed down the toilet. Luckily I realized the trap that I was about to fall into and I told my husband that I do not think I should take Adderall because I will probably get addicted to it and abuse it. So before all of that I took some just to see what it was like. I just felt like I needed to tell somebody my story. I?ve told my therapist and close family members, but never told anyone else. I don't know maybe I'm just high but I can't share this with my coworkers or friends because I fear they will look down upon me.
I know everyone has a story and a lot of people who are addicted to drugs come from a dysfunctional abusive family full of addicts. Drug addicts also come from wealthy and healthy families. My family is not healthy, it?s psychotic and drug seeking. It?s in my genes. My family also has strong mental health problems like severe depression, suicide that was actually completed, borderline personality disorder, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, PTSD, panic disorder/anxiety and my dad is a fucking lunatic. He faked seizures in the whole 10 years I spent with him before he went to prison, although when I was born he was in prison too. My dad is a lunatic. I think he has Munchausen syndrome with everything else I mentioned above. He would fake severe seizures at church flopping down the aisle, at the grocer store breaking wine bottles, he stabbed a giant knife through his arm when he had a ?seizure? in the kitchen and this man actually rolled off of a mountain top cliff.
My dad is also a child molester. He molested my oldest sister (4 years older than me) for probably 7-8 years. She told my mom multiple times and my mom didn?t do anything!! We adopted my aunt?s son and daughter because she went crazy with schizophrenia and the son, named Michael, began molesting me when I was 4. And when you tell mommy, she tells you to run along and play. As a mother I have no clue as to why my mom did that. If she would have done something then, my sister would not still be struggling to this day at the age of 34 and my brother might still be alive, because he shot himself in the head in 2009 and left a note that pretty much said that life was too much for him. Well hell if I was getting molested by my male cousin and beat with 4x4?s to keep my mouth shut I would be pretty fucked up to. After my brother died we went on his AOL account and found a lot of things indicating that he was gay like pictures of dudes and my brother and stuff like that. I strongly believe that he killed himself because he felt gay but he did not want anyone to know. Since we grew up in a ?southern Baptist? church and family being gay was like the end of the world.
Looking back, it was so fake. We went to church every Sunday Morning, Evening and every Wednesday. We seemed like a nice family to the outside world, but little did they know the terrible things and abuse that was in our family. And there were no warning signs at all. He had just got a promotion, a new car, he had a beautiful girlfriend. Now he is dead. Gone. Forever until I see him in heaven. How did I think that once an addict always an addict did not apply to me anymore? I had a fucked-up life. I'm not talking oh my parents divorced or something small like that. I'm talking daddy is molesting your big sister and mommy doesn't want to stop it. I'm talking about the cousin your mom adopted because his aunt was schizophrenic and he is molesting you, your 2 sisters and your brother. My mom didn't kick my dad to the curb until my brother came forward about being molested and beaten by my male cousin, who was molesting everyone. My mom knew he was molesting me, I told her when I was 4. As a child that small I just knew something was wrong.
After my brother came forward, my parents? divorce, mom moves us back to Texas, meets a dude, gets strung out on crack. Sells everything in the house including the doorknobs. No lights, no water, no food, no nothing. I was 10. I watched my mom try to strangle herself with a dog chain in the shower. I watched her OD on seizure meds and called 911. I walked 3 blocks every day to my aunts to eat food and take a bath. I had lice for months. No clean clothes, and hardly any clothes. I used to walk to the park to get water or drink it from the back of the toilet tank. My mom stole my school owned band instruments twice and sold them for crack. My entire childhood was ruined by drugs. My mom then burned our house down and disappeared. I was then pawned off with my grandma, who legit dropped me off at my aunt?s house and said she would be back Sunday and never came back. I finally had a stable environment with food, water and clothes and she left me at my aunts with 2 changes of clothes. I missed the 7th grade because my mom was an alcoholic and we lived in a motel. She had warrants and we were poor so we just lived in a crack motel for like 3 months.
I dropped out of high school in the 9th grade, got a job at Sonic and I moved out with my boyfriend (who is now my husband, been with him for almost 16 years) when I was 15, got pregnant at 16, went to jail a few times and did a bunch of drugs-specifically cocaine, a shit ton of weed and benzos from the ages of 14-19. When I quit smoking weed at 18 I had my first panic attack. I went to the mental hospital. Little did I know that I would revisit mental institutions many times in my future. I got better. I got off benzos. I had a nasty cocaine addiction in my late teens. My husband was the first person to ever give me cocaine. I spent a month in a shitty rehab due to it because my sister in law called the CPS on me even though my husband was doing coke too. The day that happened he was not doing coke and I was and he did not like it so he told his sister who is something I would rather not say and she called the police on me and the CPS. had to do 30 days inpatient rehab and 3 months outpatient rehab to get my rights back to my daughter.
I was so angry at my husband it took me years to forgive him. When the police came to our house there was coke in the apartment in a pink compact with a mirror, straw and razor blade. Luckily by the grace of GOD, they could not prove it was mine since it was just in the house so I was arrested for criminal mischief because we were fighting and I broke my husband?s phone. I could have caught a felony drug charge! So, I went to jail and then CPS shows up at my job Monday morning and tells me I have to do all this rehab to get my daughter back when my husband was the one who brought coke into the house. It was so embarrassing and I was so sad. He would do it all the time when I wasn?t, so why couldn?t I do it if he wasn?t? I felt like I was stabbed in the back like he betrayed me and to make it worse he took my daughter.
How did I cope with it? I was forced to move out of my apartment because I was a ?danger? to my daughter so I went to my mom?s and I was so depressed. My husband was the only person in the world that I could count on, he was the only person that really loved me and he betrayed me in the worst way possible. So I go buy some alcohol and take a shit ton of Xanax and I did more coke the day before my CPS drug test. I was so high my mom had to carry me to the car and into the CPS office. I couldn?t even talk to the CPS worker I was that fucked up. Obviously, I failed my drug test and since I was positive for coke that gave me the 30-day rehab sentence. After rehab since I couldn?t do drugs I became an alcoholic. I never liked alcohol because I could just do drugs instead, but I was so down and low that I didn?t even care, I just needed something to ease the pain. I had to take weekly drug tests so I couldn?t take any benzos or smoke weed or anything.
One day I showed up to my outpatient rehab classes drunk as fuck and I vomited all over the lobby. I was drinking vodka and I know they smelled it. It was against the rules to come to rehab class intoxicated, but for some strange reason they let me stay. Before I finished my 4 months of rehab to get my daughter back I went to a bar with a friend and I got plastered. I actually think someone drugged me because I ended up leaving her there because I was so drunk I kept spilling my drinks on people which was obnoxious. I remember leaving the bar and the next thing I remember is getting pulled over. I had multiple open beers in my car but I made sure to turn the radio down lmbo. What I did not realize is that I was driving the wrong way down the freeway and the police were trying to stop me but I was so intoxicated that I don?t even remember any of that. They did the tire spikes and everything. It ripped the bumper off of my car. I didn?t even notice. I thank God to ths day that I did not hurt anyone. I got my daughter back and after about 8 months of being separated I moved back in with my husband.
Then 2 years later in 2009 my brother committed suicide and I decided that I was going to forget the past and make sure my daughter myself and my husband had a good life, so I enrolled in college and worked my ass off to get a degree in nursing. In 2013 I had a cancer scare during nursing school which led to a major abdominal surgery and subsequent panic attacks because the tumor was the size of a bell pepper on my ovary and they legit told me it was cancer and I was going to die or be very sick. I did not have health insurance because I was in school so they wouldn?t take the tumor out until it wrapped around my ovary and caused the blood flow to stop. The hospital won?t help you unless you are really dying. It was so crazy this tumor literally grew in like 3 days, and the whole ordeal lasted a weak. I was super freaked out and started having panic attacks again so the benzos snuck up on me. The first time I wasn't abusing them, but I had abused the shit out of them in my teenage days so much so that I was gang raped. But I told myself this time will be different. Then i really did get cancer during nursing school and I had a total thyroidectomy.
Despite 2 major surgeries in 5 months, I was headstrong at finishing school because I wanted it that bad. I didn't want to be poor or for my daughter to ever go without ANYTHING. Well of course I started drinking on the benzos and before you know it bam major suicide attempt. I took 100 500mg Tylenol and a box of Benadryl. I ended up on a ventilator for 3 days, then inpatient psych. But of course they didn't take the benzos away. 1 month later I took a bunch of benzos and was drunk at a bar. I met a girl and she said she needed a ride home. She invited me inside and offered me meth. I took 3 puffs and snorted 3 lines. I was awake for 3 days, my husband was super pissed at me, and I was going crazy. I decided fuck it I'm out and I tried to kill myself again, this time with about 75 1mg xanax and about 100 100mg trazadone. I did not get on a ventilator with this attempt but I slept like a rock in the ICU for a good 4 days, then back to the mental hospital I went. I stopped the benzos.
Despite all of this behavior (which my professors and colleagues knew nothing about), I somehow managed to graduate. By the grace of God is the only way I graduated because those suicide attempts made me miss a bunch of clinicals and class. I think my professors and fellow students knew something was going on. I became an RN in June of 2014 with an Associates Degree in Applied Science. It felt great because I come from a pretty uneducated family, and after being a teen mom, in jail, mental problems and drug abuse I was able to overcome those obstacles with God and be prosperous. I was so close to God then.
My family moved and things were going ok. I got a really good job and I could finally afford to rent a house in a nice neighborhood, so in 2015 we moved. It was the nicest place I had ever lived in. Then I decided to get my Bachelor?s degree, so I was working 50-60 hrs. per week in the intensive care unit plus taking full time online classes. In February 2016 I caved and started having panic attacks again. I got some benzos and antidepressants. My sister and husband were really worried, but I assured them that it would be for a short period and that I would not abuse them. I started seeing a private Christian therapist weekly who helped me a lot. I never realized how angry I was at my mom until we did EMDR, which is like a meditation/hypnosis thing. Well I lied and after about 6 months I started abusing them.
I decided I wanted to do something to make a difference in the world so in October 2016 I went on a medical mission trip with my church (and my benzos in my bag). It was amazing. Then I found a quack psychiatrist who would prescribe Xanax, and from that point on things went really south. Xanax is the worst benzo ever. It turns you into a completely different person. I worked excessively to avoid my problems, abused the shit out of my Xanax, and my marriage was on the rocks. It got so bad I had to take a LOA from work in August 2017. I kicked my husband out, went to a 5-day detox to get off benzos because my husband thought all of our problems were because I was on benzos. Silly me I didn?t see anything wrong with taking 10-20mg of Xanax sometimes, and on normal days like 6-8mg. I completed the detox just to come out and take more Xanax. I went to the mental hospital probably 3-4 times from August-October.
This is where things went to the deep South really quick. I still don?t understand why the hell I did what I did. I met a 43-year-old man in the mental hospital who was older and not attractive or anything like that. He was a Veteran who was on disability due to an injury he obtained on duty. Little did I know he was a homeless crackhead and he was just eyeballing me because I?m attractive but also because he knew that I had a nice car, house and money. He would flirt with me on smoke breaks in the mental hospital, but I completely ignored him. I was like no thanks, you?re old and unattractive and why would I meet someone in a MENTAL HOSPITAL?? That was the rational me. He gave me his number and for some reason I kept it. I called him in October a few days after I got out and we met up. He was staying in some sort of halfway house or a house that different people lived in. I decided to rent a hotel room so we could chill. I told my husband it was over and I was filing for divorce. I told my daughter I needed a break and that Daddy would take care of her. I left my house October 20th, 2017 and came back on Halloween 2017.
The guy (Michael) and I started out by just hanging out. He talked so much about God and how he wanted a strong family and how his ex-wife did him so wrong. He talked about the struggles of life, which is something I can totally relate to. He talked about getting a good job as a truck driver at his dads? company. And he was very adamant about how bad drugs were, so much so that he told me I should stop taking Xanax. He was a smooth talker and it?s like he knew exactly what I wanted to hear. I fell right into his trap. My husband and I were having severe problems and Michael knew this. We started getting intimate. Eventually he bought some weed. I didn?t like it but I was thinking ok its just weed It?s not lie its meth or crack or anything like that. I hadn't smoked in like 10 years. I finally caved and was so high it was crazy. Then a few days later we went to buy some weed and when he came back to the car he told me all they had was crack. I hated crack, it ruined my mom and it ruined our life. It ruined my family. But I said fuck it lets smoke some crack. Why in the hell would I do that? Because I was vulnerable, high on Xanax and just lost in life. We then went on a 5-day crack binge that was about $1500.00 and when I ran out of money (because he didn?t have any) we decided to go crash at my house. I go to sleep and wake up the next day and my car is gone. This man promised me that he was going to get money from his dad because the money I spent on crack was for my rent and at the time I was not working. So, guess what happens, I lose my beautiful house. I was so pissed and just crushed. The police found my car, it was damaged but I had good insurance on it.
My whole family was extremely shocked and concerned with my behavior and I was under 24hr surveillance by my mom, stepdad or husband. Once again, I was back in the mental hospital to detox and try to stabilize my medications. At this point I was so desperate that I wanted to pursue electroconvulsive therapy. My psychiatrist at the hospital agreed but they would not do it because my EKG had a prolonged QT interval, probably from all the antidepressants, Librium, Atarax, Seroquel etc. Before I went to the hospital I hid a bottle of Klonopin so I could have some when I got out. I wasn?t serious about detoxing, I just did it so my family would be happy. they didn't take my benzos away, they just changed them to klonopin. In November I went back to the hospital for a 5-day detox to get off the benzos because obviously they were a problem. After 3 weeks I was still trippin balls crying couldn't sleep it was pure hell. I ruined my family and hurt my daughter, it was my fault that we lost our house and my daughter lost her secure home environment.
I decided that I needed more help because I could not bear to live another day feeling so shitty, so back to the asylum I went. I did another 5-day detox and then a 2-week rehab program. This is my 3rd detox I think? I got out right before Christmas 2017, and my little family welcomed me with open arms in our new small 2-bedroom apartment. I felt like a piece of shit. Nothing in the world could seem to kick this depression and self-hate. No matter what meds, how much money I had, etc. I hate myself. I went back to work finally in January, things were going good but then in February I started having panic attacks again so I found a new psychiatrist and got started on Klonopin. I've been ok on them since then (almost been a year) but my depression and anxiety just seem to be getting worse. I have tried all the depression and anxiety meds. I am very distant from God right now. I think He is the answer. But of course, I don?t turn to God.
Things got better, and despite me being on benzos yet again, we got a new house and everything is going good in our life right now. My daughter is happy in school, my husband is about to change jobs with a good raise and good perks. I have a good job. We have more than we need, but we don?t have God. If you looked at me from the outside you would never know my life or the things I?ve done or the things that have happened to me. From the outside our family looks perfect. Our life looks perfect. But it is far from that. The problem is we don?t have God in our lives, and I am still taking benzos and antidepressants that are not working. I have no reason to be depressed right now, but I let guilt and shame torment me. I feel like I am not good enough for my family or my job or anything really. I do not love myself, I hate myself. This is a big problem.
So, I got this brilliant idea that maybe I had ADD or that I had seen some articles about using Adderall to treat depression. I mean I am very depressed and I never want to do anything at all. My off days I just lay in my bed on my laptop. I have no energy either because I work a lot and I had a gastric sleeve in July and I had a lot of complications so I can barely even eat food. Like for reals 3-4 bites and that?s it. Basically, I?m starving to death. I figured I could use the energy and I considered it a last-ditch effort. I had taken phentermine in the past with no problems. I didn?t know how potent or addicting Adderall was. I didn?t know that it was hard to get a prescription for it. I asked my psych about it and told him I think I might have ADD and I have heard that Adderall can help with anxiety and depression. He asked me a few questions and said sure let?s try it. He is not a pill factory doctor or anything like that. He is a good psychiatrist and he actually specializes in children but I still see him because it is convenient. That was one week ago.
Yesterday I took more than I was prescribed (like 100mg). I did not want to lie to my husband so I told him straight up that I took the pills to get high but that I do not think it is a good idea for me to take them because I will probably just abuse them or get addicted to them. He was mad but happy that I was very honest with him because I could have easily hidden it from him and continued to abuse the Adderall or just take it as prescribed. But I can?t live in lies anymore. Lies ruin your relationships. So my husband flushed like 50+ 15mg IR Adderall down the toilet. I was kind of sad when he did that because I thought about the street value of all those pills, but I?m not a drug dealer and I do not want to contribute to someone?s addiction.
I took more than I was prescribed Friday. I just started this medicine last Wednesday, and I took the normal doses and did not sleep. I had to work Friday so I said fuck it let?s hope for the best because I did not want to call in. Friday, I took about 100mg in a 24-hr. period. I ended up in the ER tripping balls from sleep deprivation and the ER doctor said you should just stop Adderall. My husband wants me to stop it. My sister (and best friend) doesn't think it's a good idea.
Why did I even think this would be a good idea, for someone like me to try such a highly addictive drug on a last hope that it would help me? Sure, it gives you energy, which can help with depression, but you see I have a pattern of behaviors that are addictive. I can't be trusted with narcotics that are prescribed to me. That's the mindset of an addict. See how my mind tells me it is ok to do things when it is obviously not? I got the serenity prayer tattooed on my back for a reason, because addiction is real. And the Serenity prayer applies to my life in general. I have had to accept a lot that I couldn't change, come up with courage to change what I can, and try to decipher the difference. So now I am just going to go back to the basics that I know and that is God. I am alive today because of God. I have a nice house and my family is taken care of because of God. But I put Him on a back burner and where did it lead me? Right back into drug abuse. On a positive note I have decreased my Klonopin to 1mg twice a day as needed. Other than that, I can't believe that I fell back into this trap. So now that I am more depressed and anxious, let?s try some highly addictive amphetamines because that will help right? What the hell was I thinking. I need to throw these pills away before I get addicted to them. My husband flushed them down the toilet. Its only been 6 days. I need to spend time with God. I need to ween off the benzos. Most importantly I need to remember that I am an addictive person, and I have to be very careful with my choices in life. That was really long and maybe not beneficial to anyone, but if you are suffering just know you are not alone. And I was totally really high on like 100mg of Adderall when I wrote this. I decided I wasn?t going to take it anymore, but being a drug addict, I took a whole bunch of pills to get high so I could take advantage of the situation. As they say, once an addict always an addict. It?s a mental battle that I face every day.
I know everyone has a story and a lot of people who are addicted to drugs come from a dysfunctional abusive family full of addicts. Drug addicts also come from wealthy and healthy families. My family is not healthy, it?s psychotic and drug seeking. It?s in my genes. My family also has strong mental health problems like severe depression, suicide that was actually completed, borderline personality disorder, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, PTSD, panic disorder/anxiety and my dad is a fucking lunatic. He faked seizures in the whole 10 years I spent with him before he went to prison, although when I was born he was in prison too. My dad is a lunatic. I think he has Munchausen syndrome with everything else I mentioned above. He would fake severe seizures at church flopping down the aisle, at the grocer store breaking wine bottles, he stabbed a giant knife through his arm when he had a ?seizure? in the kitchen and this man actually rolled off of a mountain top cliff.
My dad is also a child molester. He molested my oldest sister (4 years older than me) for probably 7-8 years. She told my mom multiple times and my mom didn?t do anything!! We adopted my aunt?s son and daughter because she went crazy with schizophrenia and the son, named Michael, began molesting me when I was 4. And when you tell mommy, she tells you to run along and play. As a mother I have no clue as to why my mom did that. If she would have done something then, my sister would not still be struggling to this day at the age of 34 and my brother might still be alive, because he shot himself in the head in 2009 and left a note that pretty much said that life was too much for him. Well hell if I was getting molested by my male cousin and beat with 4x4?s to keep my mouth shut I would be pretty fucked up to. After my brother died we went on his AOL account and found a lot of things indicating that he was gay like pictures of dudes and my brother and stuff like that. I strongly believe that he killed himself because he felt gay but he did not want anyone to know. Since we grew up in a ?southern Baptist? church and family being gay was like the end of the world.
Looking back, it was so fake. We went to church every Sunday Morning, Evening and every Wednesday. We seemed like a nice family to the outside world, but little did they know the terrible things and abuse that was in our family. And there were no warning signs at all. He had just got a promotion, a new car, he had a beautiful girlfriend. Now he is dead. Gone. Forever until I see him in heaven. How did I think that once an addict always an addict did not apply to me anymore? I had a fucked-up life. I'm not talking oh my parents divorced or something small like that. I'm talking daddy is molesting your big sister and mommy doesn't want to stop it. I'm talking about the cousin your mom adopted because his aunt was schizophrenic and he is molesting you, your 2 sisters and your brother. My mom didn't kick my dad to the curb until my brother came forward about being molested and beaten by my male cousin, who was molesting everyone. My mom knew he was molesting me, I told her when I was 4. As a child that small I just knew something was wrong.
After my brother came forward, my parents? divorce, mom moves us back to Texas, meets a dude, gets strung out on crack. Sells everything in the house including the doorknobs. No lights, no water, no food, no nothing. I was 10. I watched my mom try to strangle herself with a dog chain in the shower. I watched her OD on seizure meds and called 911. I walked 3 blocks every day to my aunts to eat food and take a bath. I had lice for months. No clean clothes, and hardly any clothes. I used to walk to the park to get water or drink it from the back of the toilet tank. My mom stole my school owned band instruments twice and sold them for crack. My entire childhood was ruined by drugs. My mom then burned our house down and disappeared. I was then pawned off with my grandma, who legit dropped me off at my aunt?s house and said she would be back Sunday and never came back. I finally had a stable environment with food, water and clothes and she left me at my aunts with 2 changes of clothes. I missed the 7th grade because my mom was an alcoholic and we lived in a motel. She had warrants and we were poor so we just lived in a crack motel for like 3 months.
I dropped out of high school in the 9th grade, got a job at Sonic and I moved out with my boyfriend (who is now my husband, been with him for almost 16 years) when I was 15, got pregnant at 16, went to jail a few times and did a bunch of drugs-specifically cocaine, a shit ton of weed and benzos from the ages of 14-19. When I quit smoking weed at 18 I had my first panic attack. I went to the mental hospital. Little did I know that I would revisit mental institutions many times in my future. I got better. I got off benzos. I had a nasty cocaine addiction in my late teens. My husband was the first person to ever give me cocaine. I spent a month in a shitty rehab due to it because my sister in law called the CPS on me even though my husband was doing coke too. The day that happened he was not doing coke and I was and he did not like it so he told his sister who is something I would rather not say and she called the police on me and the CPS. had to do 30 days inpatient rehab and 3 months outpatient rehab to get my rights back to my daughter.
I was so angry at my husband it took me years to forgive him. When the police came to our house there was coke in the apartment in a pink compact with a mirror, straw and razor blade. Luckily by the grace of GOD, they could not prove it was mine since it was just in the house so I was arrested for criminal mischief because we were fighting and I broke my husband?s phone. I could have caught a felony drug charge! So, I went to jail and then CPS shows up at my job Monday morning and tells me I have to do all this rehab to get my daughter back when my husband was the one who brought coke into the house. It was so embarrassing and I was so sad. He would do it all the time when I wasn?t, so why couldn?t I do it if he wasn?t? I felt like I was stabbed in the back like he betrayed me and to make it worse he took my daughter.
How did I cope with it? I was forced to move out of my apartment because I was a ?danger? to my daughter so I went to my mom?s and I was so depressed. My husband was the only person in the world that I could count on, he was the only person that really loved me and he betrayed me in the worst way possible. So I go buy some alcohol and take a shit ton of Xanax and I did more coke the day before my CPS drug test. I was so high my mom had to carry me to the car and into the CPS office. I couldn?t even talk to the CPS worker I was that fucked up. Obviously, I failed my drug test and since I was positive for coke that gave me the 30-day rehab sentence. After rehab since I couldn?t do drugs I became an alcoholic. I never liked alcohol because I could just do drugs instead, but I was so down and low that I didn?t even care, I just needed something to ease the pain. I had to take weekly drug tests so I couldn?t take any benzos or smoke weed or anything.
One day I showed up to my outpatient rehab classes drunk as fuck and I vomited all over the lobby. I was drinking vodka and I know they smelled it. It was against the rules to come to rehab class intoxicated, but for some strange reason they let me stay. Before I finished my 4 months of rehab to get my daughter back I went to a bar with a friend and I got plastered. I actually think someone drugged me because I ended up leaving her there because I was so drunk I kept spilling my drinks on people which was obnoxious. I remember leaving the bar and the next thing I remember is getting pulled over. I had multiple open beers in my car but I made sure to turn the radio down lmbo. What I did not realize is that I was driving the wrong way down the freeway and the police were trying to stop me but I was so intoxicated that I don?t even remember any of that. They did the tire spikes and everything. It ripped the bumper off of my car. I didn?t even notice. I thank God to ths day that I did not hurt anyone. I got my daughter back and after about 8 months of being separated I moved back in with my husband.
Then 2 years later in 2009 my brother committed suicide and I decided that I was going to forget the past and make sure my daughter myself and my husband had a good life, so I enrolled in college and worked my ass off to get a degree in nursing. In 2013 I had a cancer scare during nursing school which led to a major abdominal surgery and subsequent panic attacks because the tumor was the size of a bell pepper on my ovary and they legit told me it was cancer and I was going to die or be very sick. I did not have health insurance because I was in school so they wouldn?t take the tumor out until it wrapped around my ovary and caused the blood flow to stop. The hospital won?t help you unless you are really dying. It was so crazy this tumor literally grew in like 3 days, and the whole ordeal lasted a weak. I was super freaked out and started having panic attacks again so the benzos snuck up on me. The first time I wasn't abusing them, but I had abused the shit out of them in my teenage days so much so that I was gang raped. But I told myself this time will be different. Then i really did get cancer during nursing school and I had a total thyroidectomy.
Despite 2 major surgeries in 5 months, I was headstrong at finishing school because I wanted it that bad. I didn't want to be poor or for my daughter to ever go without ANYTHING. Well of course I started drinking on the benzos and before you know it bam major suicide attempt. I took 100 500mg Tylenol and a box of Benadryl. I ended up on a ventilator for 3 days, then inpatient psych. But of course they didn't take the benzos away. 1 month later I took a bunch of benzos and was drunk at a bar. I met a girl and she said she needed a ride home. She invited me inside and offered me meth. I took 3 puffs and snorted 3 lines. I was awake for 3 days, my husband was super pissed at me, and I was going crazy. I decided fuck it I'm out and I tried to kill myself again, this time with about 75 1mg xanax and about 100 100mg trazadone. I did not get on a ventilator with this attempt but I slept like a rock in the ICU for a good 4 days, then back to the mental hospital I went. I stopped the benzos.
Despite all of this behavior (which my professors and colleagues knew nothing about), I somehow managed to graduate. By the grace of God is the only way I graduated because those suicide attempts made me miss a bunch of clinicals and class. I think my professors and fellow students knew something was going on. I became an RN in June of 2014 with an Associates Degree in Applied Science. It felt great because I come from a pretty uneducated family, and after being a teen mom, in jail, mental problems and drug abuse I was able to overcome those obstacles with God and be prosperous. I was so close to God then.
My family moved and things were going ok. I got a really good job and I could finally afford to rent a house in a nice neighborhood, so in 2015 we moved. It was the nicest place I had ever lived in. Then I decided to get my Bachelor?s degree, so I was working 50-60 hrs. per week in the intensive care unit plus taking full time online classes. In February 2016 I caved and started having panic attacks again. I got some benzos and antidepressants. My sister and husband were really worried, but I assured them that it would be for a short period and that I would not abuse them. I started seeing a private Christian therapist weekly who helped me a lot. I never realized how angry I was at my mom until we did EMDR, which is like a meditation/hypnosis thing. Well I lied and after about 6 months I started abusing them.
I decided I wanted to do something to make a difference in the world so in October 2016 I went on a medical mission trip with my church (and my benzos in my bag). It was amazing. Then I found a quack psychiatrist who would prescribe Xanax, and from that point on things went really south. Xanax is the worst benzo ever. It turns you into a completely different person. I worked excessively to avoid my problems, abused the shit out of my Xanax, and my marriage was on the rocks. It got so bad I had to take a LOA from work in August 2017. I kicked my husband out, went to a 5-day detox to get off benzos because my husband thought all of our problems were because I was on benzos. Silly me I didn?t see anything wrong with taking 10-20mg of Xanax sometimes, and on normal days like 6-8mg. I completed the detox just to come out and take more Xanax. I went to the mental hospital probably 3-4 times from August-October.
This is where things went to the deep South really quick. I still don?t understand why the hell I did what I did. I met a 43-year-old man in the mental hospital who was older and not attractive or anything like that. He was a Veteran who was on disability due to an injury he obtained on duty. Little did I know he was a homeless crackhead and he was just eyeballing me because I?m attractive but also because he knew that I had a nice car, house and money. He would flirt with me on smoke breaks in the mental hospital, but I completely ignored him. I was like no thanks, you?re old and unattractive and why would I meet someone in a MENTAL HOSPITAL?? That was the rational me. He gave me his number and for some reason I kept it. I called him in October a few days after I got out and we met up. He was staying in some sort of halfway house or a house that different people lived in. I decided to rent a hotel room so we could chill. I told my husband it was over and I was filing for divorce. I told my daughter I needed a break and that Daddy would take care of her. I left my house October 20th, 2017 and came back on Halloween 2017.
The guy (Michael) and I started out by just hanging out. He talked so much about God and how he wanted a strong family and how his ex-wife did him so wrong. He talked about the struggles of life, which is something I can totally relate to. He talked about getting a good job as a truck driver at his dads? company. And he was very adamant about how bad drugs were, so much so that he told me I should stop taking Xanax. He was a smooth talker and it?s like he knew exactly what I wanted to hear. I fell right into his trap. My husband and I were having severe problems and Michael knew this. We started getting intimate. Eventually he bought some weed. I didn?t like it but I was thinking ok its just weed It?s not lie its meth or crack or anything like that. I hadn't smoked in like 10 years. I finally caved and was so high it was crazy. Then a few days later we went to buy some weed and when he came back to the car he told me all they had was crack. I hated crack, it ruined my mom and it ruined our life. It ruined my family. But I said fuck it lets smoke some crack. Why in the hell would I do that? Because I was vulnerable, high on Xanax and just lost in life. We then went on a 5-day crack binge that was about $1500.00 and when I ran out of money (because he didn?t have any) we decided to go crash at my house. I go to sleep and wake up the next day and my car is gone. This man promised me that he was going to get money from his dad because the money I spent on crack was for my rent and at the time I was not working. So, guess what happens, I lose my beautiful house. I was so pissed and just crushed. The police found my car, it was damaged but I had good insurance on it.
My whole family was extremely shocked and concerned with my behavior and I was under 24hr surveillance by my mom, stepdad or husband. Once again, I was back in the mental hospital to detox and try to stabilize my medications. At this point I was so desperate that I wanted to pursue electroconvulsive therapy. My psychiatrist at the hospital agreed but they would not do it because my EKG had a prolonged QT interval, probably from all the antidepressants, Librium, Atarax, Seroquel etc. Before I went to the hospital I hid a bottle of Klonopin so I could have some when I got out. I wasn?t serious about detoxing, I just did it so my family would be happy. they didn't take my benzos away, they just changed them to klonopin. In November I went back to the hospital for a 5-day detox to get off the benzos because obviously they were a problem. After 3 weeks I was still trippin balls crying couldn't sleep it was pure hell. I ruined my family and hurt my daughter, it was my fault that we lost our house and my daughter lost her secure home environment.
I decided that I needed more help because I could not bear to live another day feeling so shitty, so back to the asylum I went. I did another 5-day detox and then a 2-week rehab program. This is my 3rd detox I think? I got out right before Christmas 2017, and my little family welcomed me with open arms in our new small 2-bedroom apartment. I felt like a piece of shit. Nothing in the world could seem to kick this depression and self-hate. No matter what meds, how much money I had, etc. I hate myself. I went back to work finally in January, things were going good but then in February I started having panic attacks again so I found a new psychiatrist and got started on Klonopin. I've been ok on them since then (almost been a year) but my depression and anxiety just seem to be getting worse. I have tried all the depression and anxiety meds. I am very distant from God right now. I think He is the answer. But of course, I don?t turn to God.
Things got better, and despite me being on benzos yet again, we got a new house and everything is going good in our life right now. My daughter is happy in school, my husband is about to change jobs with a good raise and good perks. I have a good job. We have more than we need, but we don?t have God. If you looked at me from the outside you would never know my life or the things I?ve done or the things that have happened to me. From the outside our family looks perfect. Our life looks perfect. But it is far from that. The problem is we don?t have God in our lives, and I am still taking benzos and antidepressants that are not working. I have no reason to be depressed right now, but I let guilt and shame torment me. I feel like I am not good enough for my family or my job or anything really. I do not love myself, I hate myself. This is a big problem.
So, I got this brilliant idea that maybe I had ADD or that I had seen some articles about using Adderall to treat depression. I mean I am very depressed and I never want to do anything at all. My off days I just lay in my bed on my laptop. I have no energy either because I work a lot and I had a gastric sleeve in July and I had a lot of complications so I can barely even eat food. Like for reals 3-4 bites and that?s it. Basically, I?m starving to death. I figured I could use the energy and I considered it a last-ditch effort. I had taken phentermine in the past with no problems. I didn?t know how potent or addicting Adderall was. I didn?t know that it was hard to get a prescription for it. I asked my psych about it and told him I think I might have ADD and I have heard that Adderall can help with anxiety and depression. He asked me a few questions and said sure let?s try it. He is not a pill factory doctor or anything like that. He is a good psychiatrist and he actually specializes in children but I still see him because it is convenient. That was one week ago.
Yesterday I took more than I was prescribed (like 100mg). I did not want to lie to my husband so I told him straight up that I took the pills to get high but that I do not think it is a good idea for me to take them because I will probably just abuse them or get addicted to them. He was mad but happy that I was very honest with him because I could have easily hidden it from him and continued to abuse the Adderall or just take it as prescribed. But I can?t live in lies anymore. Lies ruin your relationships. So my husband flushed like 50+ 15mg IR Adderall down the toilet. I was kind of sad when he did that because I thought about the street value of all those pills, but I?m not a drug dealer and I do not want to contribute to someone?s addiction.
I took more than I was prescribed Friday. I just started this medicine last Wednesday, and I took the normal doses and did not sleep. I had to work Friday so I said fuck it let?s hope for the best because I did not want to call in. Friday, I took about 100mg in a 24-hr. period. I ended up in the ER tripping balls from sleep deprivation and the ER doctor said you should just stop Adderall. My husband wants me to stop it. My sister (and best friend) doesn't think it's a good idea.
Why did I even think this would be a good idea, for someone like me to try such a highly addictive drug on a last hope that it would help me? Sure, it gives you energy, which can help with depression, but you see I have a pattern of behaviors that are addictive. I can't be trusted with narcotics that are prescribed to me. That's the mindset of an addict. See how my mind tells me it is ok to do things when it is obviously not? I got the serenity prayer tattooed on my back for a reason, because addiction is real. And the Serenity prayer applies to my life in general. I have had to accept a lot that I couldn't change, come up with courage to change what I can, and try to decipher the difference. So now I am just going to go back to the basics that I know and that is God. I am alive today because of God. I have a nice house and my family is taken care of because of God. But I put Him on a back burner and where did it lead me? Right back into drug abuse. On a positive note I have decreased my Klonopin to 1mg twice a day as needed. Other than that, I can't believe that I fell back into this trap. So now that I am more depressed and anxious, let?s try some highly addictive amphetamines because that will help right? What the hell was I thinking. I need to throw these pills away before I get addicted to them. My husband flushed them down the toilet. Its only been 6 days. I need to spend time with God. I need to ween off the benzos. Most importantly I need to remember that I am an addictive person, and I have to be very careful with my choices in life. That was really long and maybe not beneficial to anyone, but if you are suffering just know you are not alone. And I was totally really high on like 100mg of Adderall when I wrote this. I decided I wasn?t going to take it anymore, but being a drug addict, I took a whole bunch of pills to get high so I could take advantage of the situation. As they say, once an addict always an addict. It?s a mental battle that I face every day.
