- My Life.... *LONG*

My Life.... *LONG*




Alcoholics and Addicts sharing their personal recovery story with us to help others who want to recover.

My Life.... *LONG*

Postby Sober*Melinda » Wed Oct 21, 2009 7:32 pm

Hi, my name is Melinda, and Im an Alcoholic/Addict.
I've been sober and clean for 21 days straight, this is the longest time in my entire drinking/using life... and I guess I just wanted to share some parts of my story, I still can't tell the whole thing, but maybe someone out there somewhere will understand my story or can relate... I dont know.
I am 18yrs old, I've been drinking since I was 9 years old, and using drugs for the same amount of time. In the beginning this story doesnt have anything to do with drinking or anything like that, but I do believe if you care to read on, it will become clearer and clearer as I go on...
I was adopted at a young age, and when I was 6 my sister was also adopted into our family.... she was 3 yrs old, and had (and still has) severe FASD, so she is quite delayed. At three she was barely talking, barely walking and still wearing diapers full-time... Our dad was at work out of town, trusting his wife to take care of us... well, she didnt think it was her resposibility to take care of us, stating to my dad one day "These are your kids, YOU take care of them..." my sister would walk around in a very dirty diaper, and I loved her, but didnt know what to do, so I guess I took it upon myself to take care of her... and thats what I did... at six. I changed her, bathed her... and came to resent the hell out of her. I would hurt her sometimes and just be mean, but I always took care of her. I would try my best, and sometimes she would call me mommy... which scared me, I was only a child, why was she calling me mommy, I was wondering. But I did get that role in her life at the time.... although I didnt accept it with open arms, I did it because I felt I had to. I knew that if I called a Social Worker from Children Services that we would be split up... I never wanted that.
I also do believe I suffered from abuse, my father told me that he used to come home and I'd have bruises up and down my legs, but I dont remeber it at all. There are some little things that pop up here and there, like Liz trying to drown me one day infront of my sister, and slapping me sometimes, pushing plates of food into my face because I wasnt hungry anymore. I thought that my sister needed to eat, so I gave her my food, I was scared she would starve, so I did... and when she was full I would QUICKLY dispose of the food so Liz wouldnt know that she was done, I didnt want my sister to get hurt.... but I was resenting her so much that I ended up hurting her...... this went on for a long time, and, still to this day, my father doesnt know what I went through, only when he and Liz seperated did he stop working out of town, then the burden was lifted from my shoulders (not that my sister was a burden, but for a child, its hard to deal with.) I do believe that my issues were already starting though....
I went through depression as a young child, then my biological mother died when I was nine. My adopted father was drinking a lot at this time, and he would always have bottles and bottles and bottles of vodka in his cabinet... so one day I decided to take some, didnt think he would ever notice... and he didnt. I mixed it with pop in a coke bottle and took it to my room... needless to say I needed more... so I got drunk... at nine.
I didnt drink all the time at that point, only when I was really upset about something.... but with the drinking, which was always when everyone else was sleeping... I began self injuring.... and then my life began to spiral.
I guess I thought it was normal to drink, I thought everyone did it... I thought it was fun... and to me at the time it was, but if I get into my story, I know that it wasnt fun at all... not one bit.
People didnt understand why I was always so angry and why a young girl (ten at this time) was freaking out all the time and doing so poorly in school. I do believe I had a lot of issues and booze was just adding the the problems...
So I got kicked out of school after school...... these problems with behavoir continued until I was around 11 yrs old, we moved from my hometown, and went to a new place, we knew nobody.
The main reason was completely out of my control, it was so my little sister could go to a special school, because of her special needs, but I always felt it was my fault... and my sister always asked "Why did we leave?" I felt horrible, I thought because I was bad, we had to move... because I was a mean girl and hurt my sister, we had to move. So my problems became worse and worse, I was drinking more and more, but it wasnt obvious, not yet, anyway. But the self har, that was becoming more than apparent...
Physical fights started between my father and I, he was drinking a lot, I still dont know the truth as to how much, but I do know he drank at least every night and was very angry all the time... So we would fight, A LOT, yelling, swearing and sometimes hitting (eachother.) I was trying to get drunk when I could, but I really was scared that my dad would notice that the alcohol was dissappearing, so I decided to only take a little each night, just to calm down at the end of the night... but when I was stressed I was allowed to take a little more than usual, I thought it was okay.
I still had never been to a party with any friends, with or without booze... I had hardly any friends, to be honest... I was isolating myself quite a bit by this point. Most days I would sit on the computer and sip on my 'pop' and just not do anything other than that... I wasnt very happy. I would hurt myself everynight by cutting my arms or burning them....
One day I was very angry and I dont know exactly what brought my dad to this decision, but he took my to the Emergency, and I was so out of control that they admitted me to the pshyc ward of the hospital, after injecting me full of drugs to calm me down.... I only stayed for about 4 days but I learned a lot from that stay (and I dont think any of it was good.) Thats when the self injury got worse...
Soon, social services were called, because of my self injury.... and then they found out about my dad and me fighting, so I was taken into Secure Treatment... it was my first grouphome, and I was scared, alone.... and very very very confused.... I felt lost, and thought it was all my fault. They took me in and I met people who were addicted to any substance you could name, I saw nothing in myself that I could relate to these people (even though I was drinking and doing some drugs, I wasnt that bad... compared to them anyway.) There were a lot of different types of people in that place, and I just wanted to fit in, so I exageratted a lot to the staff there, saying that I was doing this drug and that drug and that I was drinking a lot more than I was, I watched these people and began to act like them, I was the youngest there (at 11 yrs old) and wanted to fit in with these older girls and guys... so I thought, if Im doing all this stuff, Ill be liked. Of course there was no way to drink or do drugs in this place, so I was S.O.L.!
Either way, I did end up getting out of that place, I stayed out for 24 hrs and was back in, suicidal as ever... I had tried to leave the place they put me in, so I could go drink (it had been three months since I had touched any beer or vodka or ANYTHING AT ALL!) and they wouldnt let me, so I hurt myself and tried to kill myself... this was my only other solution besides drinking... thats what I thought would help me. Needless to say, it didnt.
So I ended up going back there, after a week of the same behavior and another suicide attempt I was put back in the hospital where it all started, stayed for six months (without being able to leave AT ALL!)
FINALLY, I got out, I was put in a rehabilitation hospital, where they would try various medications on me and try to get me on track... AND FINALLY I GOT TO GO TO MY DADS HOUSE!!
I remember my first visit back to his home, it was the weekend (because every weekend everyone went home...) and I was just sitting in my room, listening until very early in the morning, then I crept up the stairs and looked in the cabinet, and there was the magical cure, just waiting, at least 4 or 5 bottles of vodka sat there, I was just looking at them.... I hoped my dad wouldnt wake up before I could pour some out....
This time I decided to take more than usual, I thought that it would be okay, because I hadnt had it for so long... so I took almost half a 40 of vodka and filled up four pop bottles mixed with pop and my precious 'cure.' I only chugged the first one and I already started to feel good, so I sipped on the other one, then I fell asleep, with 2 full pop bottles left (I dont remember how much I put in each, but I dont think it matters.) and little left of the third, the fourth, I had already chugged... of course.
I tried my best not to drink for the rest of the weekend, I didnt want to go back to the center without a drink, so I just sipped here and there.... and when the weekend was over, I was glad to have two pop bottles left... I was very pleased with myself....
At the center I drank the two mixes immideatly, and took my sleeping pills, I just sat in my room listening to music and crying... I dont remember a lot, but I do remember the next morning I was surprised to see that I had drank both mixes, and very upset that I wouldnt get anymore for a week...
So later on that week is when I AWOLed for the first time, my friend and I just walked away and got drunk, we had to sleep outside, but it was snowing, so we snuck into a laundry room of an appt. building, someone let us stay in his place.... I was glad that we could be warm....
The next day we walked around and I do believe we were drinking, but I cant remember if we were drunk, somehow we made it outside of town, we were walking down the highway, I think we were trying to go to Calgary, but of course being 11 and 13 we had no sense of direction, and ultamitely were walking the wrong way...... I remember mostly how powerless I felt, how alone I was, so I dont know why, but I sliced my cheek open with a piece of glass.... eventually the police brought us back.... but I was sent back to the pshyc ward..........
I bounced around a bit after that, drinking when I could, but at that point I was just self harming more than anything, and thinking of suicide on a regular basis...
I had gone to a new group home just for the summer because in the rehab. hospital they didnt let u stay for the summer, so I went to a differnt place for the summer...
I really didnt understand all this, I thought, "Doesnt my dad love me? Doesnt he want me to live with him, he must not like me, I must be a bad kid...." I would go home and repeat the same things over and over.... I would go to the group home and I would act out and hurt myself and do this over and over again.... until the summer was over....
When summer was over I felt I was doing better I was now 12 I do believe, and I had my life set, at least I thought I did, of course we all know no 12 yr old has their life set...
Soon I AWOLed from the rehab. hospital for the last time, but I didnt know that at the time... I went with a different guy this time, he was a bit more into drugs than the last and took me to Whyte Avenue... where I tried meth for the first time.... and learned that all this time, I wasnt smoking cigarettes properly, so they taught me how to smoke meth, and cigarettes, well that just came easily once I learned how to inhale meth....
We tripped all night, and ended up in the phsyc ward together, he had hurt himself, but I was just really high and going crazy, I had an exacto blade in my pocket and drug baggies in my bra, the security guards took both of these things, they knew me quite well by this point and were going to take not chances, so of course they searched me well before they put me in the hospital cell, to wait to see a doctor.
I remember my father came to the hospital and I was coming down, I was on IV's and my eyes were rolling back, I think it was because I was tired, but it could have been becuz I was so high.... anyway, he didnt believe me that I had done what I had done, and for years, he didnt believe me when I told him what I was doing....
Anyway, I stayed in that pshyc ward for a few days, but was luckier this time, because my dad would take me home for most of the day.... I would sneak in a drink here and there but he was watching me very carefully to be sure I wouldnt run away or kill myself....
So back to the group home........ and I stayed until I was 14.
It was hell, I was so depressed and angry... but I did get to go to my dads house sometimes and that made me very happy... and I think by now I dont have to explain why anymore.
But soon I started to AWOL again, I became to understand the streets a bit better and learned how to panhandle so I could get drugs and beer... I was young, and pretty so ppl felt sorry for me and would give me a lot of money, I know the most I ever made in one night was much over 5000 dollars, no lie. Most of the money went to crack at the time, but a lot of it also went to alcohol....
I remember the police kept picking me up on the Ave... they would take me back, and at this time the group home was not treating me good at all...
My father and I had a good relationship and I would convince him that it was okay that I was AWOLing, that they were abusing me (which they were...) in some way or another, so he would meet me and give me money on the Ave.... he bought me clothes and shoes one time and gave me enough money to last a little bit...
I did resent the fact that he wouldnt take me home, but later I came to understand why, and if you continue reading you will too...
So I went out that day, I had good intentions, I told him I wouldnt buy alcohol or drugs, and he believed me, I even believed it myself..... but I was young and stupid (12 or 13 I cant remember). I guess some how or another I met up with a woman who soon became my street mom, and this woman smoked me up with crack, then we went and used the money to buy beer so we could calm down, I think this was the first time I mixed drugs and alcohol and now I understand why I got so messed up....
I chugged the beer, I chugged and chugged, it was in a water bottle... and I thought it wouldnt do anything to me... dont really know why I thought that, but I did. Anyway, I guess I blacked out pretty bad, ended up pissing my pants and getting taken back to the hospital where it all started in an ambulance.... I grabbed my backpack, when I sobered up a bit, changed and left the hospital before anyone knew what was happening....
I dont remember what exactly happend after that, all I know is that I eneded up back in the group home.... and I repeated the AWOLing, suicide attempts and using.... I didnt care that I was on a path to self destruction, and I had no idea where it would lead me....
After an AWOL attempt that failed miserbaly, I was put on ISOLATION for three months, wasnt allowed to talk to any of the other ppl in the home, and I was doing poorly. I was being constantly restrained and they wouldnt let me be alone, EVER, it was horrible.... the only thing that made me happy was the fact that they were allowing me to have my bird there with me.... and at this time my dad was in the Phillipines meeting his wife-to-be for the first time (of course at that time he didnt know she was his wife to be though...) So I was not only alone, without my father but I was also not able to get out to go drink nor was I able to get to my fathers to go drink, so I decided to start abusing my medication in any way possible.... and I thought it was working wonderfully for me....
But because I was depressed, had anxiety and a list of other disorders, I was unable to miss doses of my medication, because thats what I had to do in order to do a slight overdose, I'd have to save two days worth of my pills then take all the pills I'd saved up.... but this was not a good thing at all. My behavoir escalated to the point where they were almost unable to manage me anymore.....
FINALLY, my dad got back....
I remember after a while of the same old ####, he had an altercation with the staff and they alleged that he swore at them, so he wasnt allowed in the group home anymore, so we had to meet in the trailers outside.... I didnt mind it though, at least I got to spend time with him....
Eventually, the group home said I had spent enough time there, my dad always said it was because he was too involved and they didnt like that, but they basically kicked me out, and I was glad because I finally got to go and live at home, for the first time in a long time, it was at least a yr or so since I had lived at home....
I loved finally living with my dad and my sister again... I thought it would work, I vowed to make it work, and didnt drink much for the first couple of days....
But for whatever reason my depression came back, then, I started acting out and being mean to my sister again.... I think I still had resentment issues... we were having problems even when I was in the group home, I wasnt too nice to her at that time, but I thought I wouldnt be that way to her again.... but it ended up happening again. My dad did tell me that I had to be nice to her and leave her alone if I wanted to live there, and I agreed, I thought I was different, but my sister, even though she still only had the mental capacity of a five yr old or even less, she knew I wasnt right in the head, and I think she was scared of me, looking back.... She didnt ever want to chill with me or play games, although sometimes we did, but when she wanted to be alone, I would get angry and begin to yell or swear... she was pretty scared.... and I was too. I didnt understand why I was acting the way I was acting.... and soon the police came and took me back to the secure treatment.
I was happy to be back there even though I was upset that I wasnt at home anymore, but I always felt so safe there, no wonder its called SECURE TREATMENT... lol.
But I stayed for a little while and thats when #### really started to hit the fan...
In this place, they have a set of houses, some are open, some are secure, these days theres a Detox for youth there and a secure treatment type of place for young girls involved in prostitution... I would eventually visit every one of these places in this facility... thats why I wrote *LONG* on the title of this, theres still a long way to go.....
Anyway, when I got out of secure (this is what I call it and will call it througout the rest of the story).... I went to open, thats another type of house in this setting, it is basically the same, theres ten kids who live there, except they arent locked up....
I was going through rough times, I wasnt happy at all, and eventually, you guessed it, I started to AWOL.
This started a long cycle of living on the streets, getting ### up, coming back to secure, going back to the open houses and doing it all over again.
My mental health deteriorated greatly in the next year or so, I was hospitalized for these concerns on a monthly basis, not to mention I was being hospitalized quite frequently for drug and alcohol related problems as well....
I dont know why, but everything jumbles together here, I know I can remeber me early years quite clearly, but my teenage years were filled with so much pain and self medicating that it makes it hard to remember, but I will try my best to explain what happend in the next few years....
I AWOLed many times, I would get hammered on whyte avenue and the police would bring me back, I'd sleep it off and leave the next day, I'd do it as much as I could.... then they decided to try and stop me.... they told me I wasnt allowed to leave anymore. So I had a lot of failed attempts at getting away... this caused the self harm to increase ten fold... I had no other way to numb the pain I was feeling....
I was on heavy medication at that time but it wasnt making me feel any different, if anything, I think it made me more depressed....
At times things would be so bad that I would have to spend time in the hospital, they would have to give me injections to calm me down each and every time I went for a suicide attempt or even just for stitches... I was a young girl in a ton of pain....
Soon each time I went to the hospital I would be directly transferred from the ambulance into the holding cell at the hospital and handcuffed to the wall, pumped full of medication that had lost its affect on me and then I'd scream and yell and bang my head, basically go crazy until a doctor would see me, examine me, do what had to be done and let me go... this went on for my whole life....
By that point I was so desperate to get anything into my body to numb my feelings, I would sometimes purposely do this so I could get heavy duty medication injected into me at the hospital, I would always feel a bit better after that...
I remember I AWOLed and came back very very messed up on a lot of different things and I was throwing up everywhere... the next day the kept me in locked confinement, so I slashed my arms up and was taken to the hospital, I saw no problem with this, at least I got to go out of that room, even if right as soon as I got to the hospital they'd lock me up in another room, it didnt matter to me, at least I was out while I was in the ambulance... right??
Things like this kept happening, I was in and out of secure, and eventually they decided that secure wouldnt help me and tried not to put me in there anymore, but I felt so safe there and always wanted to go back.... I didnt care at what cost, I WANTED TO GO BACK!
As things got a little bit better for a tiny while, they gave me
a little freedom, and with that, I took off to the AVE AGAIN! And here we go again...... same #### same pile, nothing different about it whatsoever.
Eventually I ended up in the hospital for another suicide attempt, this time it was pretty bad, and I had to stay in an observation unit for a few days.... thats when I found out I had a new S/W (social worker), and I convinced her to put me in secure treatment, I needed it, I told her....
So there it happend, from there on in, that was her solution to ANY and EVERY issue I faced.
I remember I was AWOLing a lot, and one day I decided to go to the Ave, then I met some guys who introduced me to downtown life, BIG MISTAKE on my part and theirs.... eventually we ended up in a tent city....
I didnt talk to my family or have any contact with anyone I knew for a long time, I had police looking for my body, my dad was worried for the worst... nobody thought I was alive anymore. I was doing meth heavily and drinking more than I ever had in my life.... I hadnt showered in almost 3 wks and barely ever ate anything (I was already like 98lbs.) I was either high or drunk all the time.... One day I got drunk and was freaking out for whatever reason, then I went and smoked some meth, I didnt feel like I was high (but I sure was.) Reguardless of how I felt, I was pretty wasted and pretty high, so I got really paranoid, I looked at my friend who was drinking and I saw him give me an 'evil look' and I tried to kill him, I tried to stab him in the arm, THANK GOD, he put his arm infront of his chest where I was trying to stab him, and instead I stabbed his arm. I have never fought in my entire life, but I was livid, blacked out and high, not a good mix at all... especailly for a 14 yr old... Then I decided that I HAD to throw my boyfriends wallet in the fire, I dont know why but I HAD to do it... when he wouldnt let me I grabbed another knife and stabbed him in the hip like 8-12 times over and over, (this is the worst thing I've ever done in my entire life.) I dont remember most of what happend, but I know that I broke a bottle over the first guys head and hit my b/f with a burning 2 by 4 over and over again.... Im so lucky I didnt kill these guys... I wouldnt have been able to live with myself if I had taken someone esles life, I wouldnt. I do remember that I knew the cops would come after the first guy stumbled away, trying to get to a hospital and away from me.... he wasnt doing well at all. I couldnt stay, but the other ppl there were making me stay... So I picked up an Axe and tried to swing at anyone who came near me, I was completely utterly ### up... tweaked out of my mind and completely smashd (to this day I can only remember pieces of this story.... and I try to say it as well as I can if I ever do tell it, but everytime a new memory pops up, something horrible that I did.) For once in my life I wasnt trying to hurt myself or kill myself but I was trying to hurt and/or kill anyone and everyone arouond me, and thats not me, not in the least. I am greatful that someone somehow managed to get the axe away from me and Im ### lucky nobody charged me with attempted murder, I could have been but they didnt, and for that Im lucky, but I think Im even more lucky that nobody was killed in my episode of complete and total insanity.... just to think that I could have killed at least 4 people that night, and I do think I would have if I could have.... that scares the #### outta me. The police did come to the camp but for some reason everyone told them they didnt know who it was who did all the ####, and by that time I had calmed down and somehow even managed to sleep a bit.... I still dont know why they didnt tell them it was me, maybe because they would be called rats if they did, or maybe they just cared about me and knew I didnt do that because I wanted to... I dont know and never will....
Even after that I didnt stop, I still got ### up and still got high, but that #### never happend again, and I still dont know what caused that to happen, maybe one day I will figure it out but at this moment I dont exactly know why it happend when it happend... and why it never happend again, to that extent anyway.
So when it started to snow the two guys and I moved back to downtown where we could sleep in shelters and such.... But my addiction was getting worse and worse each day and eventually I was caught, yet again... The biggest thing I remember I my dad, he was so worried the whole time and when I called him from the cell I was sitting in while I was waiting to go back to the grouphome.... he yelled at me, he never yelled at me for AWOLing before, he told me he didnt know what happend to me, that he was worried... and I was just mad that I was caught.
For some strange reason they didnt lock me up... and didnt put me on watch or even say they would stop me if I left again....
So I took a shower, for the first time in a very long time (no exaggeration, a long time is like over a month... :shock: , very gross, to think of it now...), I ate what I could and slept for a few days...
Then one day I got out of bed and walked away.... back Downtown, back to the place I had begun to think of as my home... the streets.
So I went back and forth from shelters downtown, to the streets downtown, to the group home, to secure treatment, to the hospital and back.... so it was a gaint mess.
I was lying to everyone about my age, and soon the shelters found out and they wouldnt let me stay anymore, and everytime I tried they would call the police and the police would take me to the group home... So I started to sleep outside... I met a guy and he was also a drug addicted alcoholic, just like I was, and we thought we were in love...
I met a lot of ppl who were willing to give me free beer, I graduated to AXEHEAD (at that time it was an even 5.00 for a fourty pounder of that beer!) I remember the first time I tried it, I did puke, but of course nobody knew, or else I'd be cut for alcohol abuse ;) ... but I loved it, it was a great drunk IMO- I got smashed off a bottle and half cut off of only half a bottle... so I thought 5 bux and u get smashed, that not bad at all.
So alcohol became the center of my life, there wouldnt be a day after post time that I wouldnt either be passed out drunk or holding a beer or trying to find someone to share with me or get me more of this wondeful AXEHEAD. I became extremely dependent on alcohol....
If I was mad Id have a few drinks, if I was sad Id have a few, even if I was happy I'd have a few, there was ALWAYS an excuse to have more... and if there was no excuse I'd find one....
I really became aquanted with downtown, and began to think of myself as a street person and by the time I was sixteen I had really really lived up to that name...
I was always called the 'white indian' because I could drink more than a lot of the natives on the streets and handle more alcohol before a hospital trip than some of the older guys who had been down there for years longer than I had....
And trust me, I was in the hospital a lot, now it was getting less and less for my self harm (I was just going to the health center for stitches instead, or else I would just ignore it...) and now it was more for alcohol or drug overdoses....
I bounced from grouphome to grouphome, secure treatment to hospital and once in a while I would go back to my dads, but by the time I was sixteen I had already been banned from the city he lived in had a past resraining order inforced by the police that they put in place for my sister, who didnt understand the meaning of the word, but they did it for her.... I was a bad kid....
I know that by seventeen I had completely run out of options, NO shelter would take me, there was even one point where I was barred from eery single shelter, every drop in and all the places to eat, even one liquor store... all because of my behavior..... I was one crazy girl....
I had been admitted into a detox for youth (an invonuntary one) and I was not happy that it wasnt the one I usually went to, I was also detoxing pretty bad... so I smashed my head against a concrete wall a couple hundred times until I finally knocked myself out for long enough for the ambulance to arrive, from there I went to a pshyc ward I had never been to before (just so happens it was a the hospital I was born in...) I wasnt happy at all, and beign where I was remeinded me of my mom... so...
I decided to hurt myself, again, I cut my arm the worst I ever cut it and had to get the third tendon and nerve repair surgery of my life, but this one was the worst, the damage was worse and the cut much deeper...
I remember they had me on tons of morphine, and thats all I liked, and a lot of #### to keep me calm... all day all night pumping drugs through IV... and then on the ambulance ride back here... more and more and more morphine and other drugs.... I was in heaven.... But it all ended eventually!
Finally I turned 18 on August 14th 2009- and I was sooo happy to be away from secure (I ended up there about 38 times by the end...) and social services as a whole....
But little did I realize that with no support my life would get even worse and there would be nothing to fall back on....... just pain and misery.... and more alcohol and drugs....
So I fell hard, I slept outside and a lot of people were thinking I wouldnt live to see 19... a lot of ppl were scared I wasnt gonna make it through most nights... their fears were right, too... I overdosed about 5 times in 1 week 2 weeks in a row... and almost died 3 of those times. I guess I did die 2 out of the 3 times, my heart stopped both times, one time they gave me a shot called narcan, they had to give me three shots before I began to breath slightly normally again, and the other time they had to use the paddles about 4-5 times before they got my heart started again (this is what I was told anyway) and I woke up the next day with tubes up my nose, all kinds of IV's sticking out of me... heart monitors and doctors everywhere.... scary as hell.....
I slowly began to change after that...... and soon I was in AA and now Im at day 21 (and have been writing for 4 hours too... lol.) I am glad Im not dead right now... Im glad that the person who saved me did, and Im glad that I've joined AA and maintained 21 days of soberiety so far, I know that I can do this if I want to...
I was at the point that the doctors were telling me if I continued to drink I would maybe have 2 months at the most left to live, I didnt care and kept drinking... I got reallllllly sick and was throwin up blood everyday, never ate anything just drank my Axehead.... thats it.
And to get to that point, yeah, lotsa #### happend, but look what happend as a result of the method I used to cope, I could have died or even worse, killed someone else.......
I would also like to say that I have a great relationship with my sister now, and dont feel any resentment to her anymore.... I still have a long way to go with all of that... but shes no longer scared of me!
Thats not everything, but its mostly everything, I dont know if its supposed to be here, but I felt the need to post the big part of my story......
**Thanks for my soberiety.... Heres to another 24 for u and I** :!:
Thanks for letting me share my story with you.... although, it is long, I hope someone out there could read the whole thing....
Thanks....
Melinda! :wink:
Sober*Melinda
 
Posts: 7
Joined: Tue Oct 20, 2009 3:32 am

Postby sunlight » Wed Oct 21, 2009 9:52 pm

Hi Melinda!

Thank you for your story. You really touched my heart and I admire your honesty, thoroughness and fearlessness. Taking the steps will be a natural for you! :wink:

I stay close to the fellowship. I found a trusted woman to be my sponsor and take me through the steps just as they are in the big book. My life began to change into something beautiful.

You are not alone anymore! We are with you, and we are many all over the world! Maybe there's even AA in outer space!

You are one strong woman. I'm talking Amazon here. But even we alcoholic Amazons need the help of a Power greater than ourselves.
You CAN recover! Believe it. :D

Thank you again. You give me renewed hope and inspiration! I think I need to go kick my own butt into renewed action! :lol:

Don't look back,

Sunlight
sunlight
 
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Location: Denver Co

Postby Dallas » Thu Oct 22, 2009 3:37 am

Hello Melinda!!! Welcome to the site! Thank you for sharing your story. In many parts of your story... I relate... and I understand. :wink:

I hope you never leave us. I promise you... and guarantee... that anything good that you can dream for yourself... or imagine... you'll end up with a life that is incredibly wonderful and way beyond your wildest imaginations... if you hang in with us, and do the work that will be in front of you.

I know many of us, besides myself, that landed, in the same kinds of holes, and came from the same kinds of backgrounds that you've had ... and, we, too... recovered, and ended up with the good life! :wink:

You've got a couple million of us -- that love you and care about you -- because, we identify with you -- as being one of us. :wink:

Stick around! You'll be glad you did!

Dallas
Dallas
Site Admin
 
Posts: 4781
Joined: Thu Jul 28, 2005 9:05 pm
Location: Fort Smith, Arkansas USA

Postby Sober*Melinda » Mon Oct 26, 2009 12:38 am

Thanks for the replies, Im 25 days now and have been goin thro a rough time, but Im glad that I read these replies again, they helped me a ton tonight, thanks!!!!
Sober*Melinda
 
Posts: 7
Joined: Tue Oct 20, 2009 3:32 am

Postby Dallas » Mon Oct 26, 2009 10:57 am

Hey Sober*Melinda!!!!
Congrats on your sobriety!!!
Thanks for checking in and letting us know how you're doing.
I appreciate it.

Hang in there! And... Keep coming back! SOBER! :wink:

Dallas
Dallas
Site Admin
 
Posts: 4781
Joined: Thu Jul 28, 2005 9:05 pm
Location: Fort Smith, Arkansas USA

Postby Sober*Melinda » Wed Jan 13, 2010 4:49 pm

Hi, I would like to say that, yes, I did relapse and after a bit of a stretch off the wagon, Im back on... :?
Sober*Melinda
 
Posts: 7
Joined: Tue Oct 20, 2009 3:32 am

Postby Dallas » Wed Jan 13, 2010 8:40 pm

Nice to see you back! Don't stay away so long! I missed you!

Dallas
Dallas
Site Admin
 
Posts: 4781
Joined: Thu Jul 28, 2005 9:05 pm
Location: Fort Smith, Arkansas USA


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