My name is Breanna, and I am an ex-addict.
Now, don’t get me wrong, my story isn’t some magnificent 40 years+ of drug abuse and finally coming clean all while rebuilding every broken friendship and relationship along the way. My story is shorter, but it’s really to the point and you’ll see what I mean once I stop babbling and explain it! Lol!
Alright, so once upon a time I met a boy. I thought the world of this boy until he got me pregnant and left me to go use drugs and be with his “friends” who apparently meant more to him than I and his child did. Anywho, I gave birth to a beautiful healthy baby boy and was overjoyed! Flash forward exactly two months. Father of said child gets out of jail swearing up and down how he’s going to get clean and stay that way and begs me to see his child for the first time after a 6 month stint in jail. My GUT told me NO. My heart said “why not give him one more chance?”
The night he gets out of jail I go and I meet with him and his parents with our son. I believed in him more than I believed in my so basic instinct. (Do not for any reason take pity on me, seriously don’t. This is all my own stupid fault.) Anywho, I fell back in love with this fool and another couple weeks passed and he’s doing great!! I was ecstatic for him being clean (that I knew of anyway…).
You know how it feels when you’re so head over heels for a guy who makes you have butterflies in your tummy, and your heart flutter, and your smile is brighter than the sun? Yeah that was this guy! 😁 He stayed clean for those two weeks (probably not), and I was always over hanging out with him when I wasn’t working letting him visit with his son. Then one day, he started talking about using again. He started talking about how he could make so much money selling again and how he would never be able to work a real job because of the charges against him when he went to jail. He convinced me all he’d do is sell it and not touch any of it. Until one day when he was high out of his mind calling me begging me to come pick him up because there were a ton of people after him. So at 11 o’clock at night I left my home and went to find him. I knew then that something wasn’t right and I had to fix it.
This is where it gets interesting, by the way. This seems to be a common enemy of ex or current drug users. Somewhere along the line they wanted to fix someone or themselves not realizing there’s either nothing you can do or it wasn’t broken in the first place. But back to the story!
I’m gonna flash forward about two weeks (I’m estimating here).
We are in a hotel room, I’m barely staying at home anymore I’m either usually in my car or in a hotel with him. He’s back to selling and he’s got someone coming to buy. Instead of bagging it himself like he always does, he lets the other guy bag it and the guy dropped some on the ground. In the last month all I’ve heard from him is how I could never understand how hard it is and what it feels like and then little moments where he’d say how wonderful it was and how great it made him feel. I was curious and in a vulnerable place. I loved him (in a very messed up kinda way). So when he took my car to take this guy back home with his dope, I got a couple pieces off the carpet and let go of any remaining control I had left (which wasn’t much mind you).
I. Felt. So. Alive.
I could feel everything like I’d never felt it before. As if I’d never known true emotion I felt it. I stayed up all night with him talking about everything we’d been through and made me feel that much more strongly towards him. I know he knew what I’d done but I wouldn’t tell him. He’d be so disappointed. So I lied to him time and time and time again.
I don’t wanna cut this story too short cause every detail matters but I’m going to have to remove a few things because I don’t want to rehash every moment, it still makes me a little sick.
So in a long story short kind of version, for three months after that one time, I was so hooked I couldn’t function without it. I was so bonded with this drug I couldn’t feel without it. I used every day multiple times a day for months on end binging. As I was realizing how out of control this problem had gotten, I decided to remove myself and quit for good because it was the right thing to do for my son and myself. I went back home I quit talking to HIM and I cried myself to sleep that night. The next day a police officer and DCS worker were at my front door. I had been off it for 3 days, and I really believed I’d pass my test which is the only reason I agreed to take it but I binged so much I failed. I lost my son that day. He’s now 2 years old since February and he is in my brothers custody.
When I lost my son, I broke down and relapsed again for around another two weeks of using every day all day. It was so hard to deal with the pain I thought covering it up would work like it did last time. I learned pretty quickly that’s not how things work. I was panicking over losing a bag one day on my way back to a friends house and stepped back for five minutes and looked at how stupid it all really was. How selfish I’d been and how horrible I was to everyone around me.
I didn’t take the traditional way to recovery. I actually didn’t talk to anyone at all. Nobody believed in me at the point I was at. So it was even harder believing in myself. I had an ace up my sleeve though, through the whole thing. My now husband. I met him maybe a few days after I’d decided to get clean. It was crazy how hard I fell in the first few moments of meeting him. He made me a believer of love at first sight. When I met him I told him up front what had happened to me and he looked at me and said “I can tell you’re a good person, I want you to make me a promise right now. Do not ever use again. Ever.” And when I made that promise it was the last time I ever used. That and I found out I was pregnant. 👀
Plot twist! Haha.
Anyway, my road to recovery has been a long, hard and painful one. And over the next bunch of posts I’ll be making, I’ll explain to you all how I’ve made it the last 2 years clean and sober.