Posts Tagged With: addiction

Loving bond this man has with his dog helped take him off the streets

Categories: kirk weisler, coffee sugar, exercise 3, yoga class, and walking in the garden. | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

Addiction

I NEED To Get High,

I am not your child, or spouse, or friend. I’ve changed. I don’t belong to you any more. I don’t care about you. Not in the way you want me too. I care about getting high. I WANT to get high. I will do ANYTHING to get high. I LOVE getting high. I NEED to get high.. and I will step over you to do it. When I look at you, I don’t see YOU. I see a means to an end. You have money. I want it. End of story. I don’t care if you can’t pay the rent. I don’t care if you need groceries. I don’t care if you promised you wouldn’t give me money again. I don’t care if you lie to Dad. I don’t care if you’re broke. Sell your rings, take a loan, sell your electronics, max out your credit cards, borrow the money from someone else, because if you don’t, I will STEAL it. I WILL find a way to get HIGH. You think you can CHANGE me, or SAVE me. You are WRONG! Something cold and dead slithers within me. I no longer respond to love or truth. You can CRY all you want. I don’t care. I have no integrity or values. My morals are a thing of the past. I will say anything, do anything, and hurt anyone, to get my next FIX.
Although I may play the game with you, make no mistake. I don’t play it because I LOVE you, I play it because I want my DOPE. I will say what ever you want to hear, I will promise you the world, I will look you in the eyes, and I WILL break your heart. Over and over again. I don’t have a heart any more. I have a HUNGER. It’s calculating and manipulative, and it OWNS me.
In a strange way you’re thankful for this hunger. For when I feel it coming on, I find you, quick! Then when I’ve gotten what I want from you, I leave. You’re anxious without me. You offer to buy my food, or pay my rent. You always GIVE me something.
By now, you’re NEED is almost as great as mine.
I can’t stay SICK without you. You can’t breathe without ME.
You think you’re helping me. You believe you’re making a difference, but what you’re really helping… is my ADDICTION.
I won’t tell you this, but you know it, deep down.
If we keep going like this, one or both of us will die. Me from an overdose, that you paid for, and you from a heart attack, or stroke.
You’ll wait YEARS for me to change, or see the light, and I take full advantage of this.
You keep my secrets and protect my lies. You clean up my messes and bail me out. You love me to the exclusion of EVERYONE else.
You are bitter and resentful. You hide from your friends and isolate. You HATE.
Your world revolves around one thing only… ME.
But will your LOVE ever become greater than your FEAR? Would you be strong enough to reach out for help? Will you learn to say NO? Will you allow me to experience the consequences of my actions? Will you LOVE me enough to feel your own discomfort and stop enabling my addiction?
I lay trapped with within the confines of this cold dark, serpent – addiction, and I am… dying.

~Author Unknown

Categories: kirk weisler, coffee sugar, exercise 3, yoga class, and walking in the garden. | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

A Woman Name Wendy Hoard (post by Frank Somerville KTVU)

I got an email from a woman name Wendy Hoard.
She’s a mother of two who lives in San Jose.
And she is an alcoholic.

I asked her if I could share her story.
It’s long.
But I think you’ll agree that it’s a “good” read and it’s VERY inspiring.

So here’s what she wrote:

Hi Frank,
My name is Wendy and I am an alcoholic.
I have been sober for almost 8 years.

A couple of years ago, I was struggling with keeping strong against the never-ending temptation of going back to the bottle.
So I decided to write my story.

Addiction is taboo.
No one talks about it.
There is so much shame involved.
People view the addict as the homeless person walking the streets.

But addiction also looks like me.
A mom who had a child diagnosed with severe Autism and felt so much pain and loneliness, that something had to give.

No one knew.
Not my husband, not my parents, not my friends.
I hid it…. never asking for help as I spiraled out of control.
The shame was too great.

I used to say that I would never ever be a drinker.
I wasn’t one of “those” people.
I had too much self-control.

(But) I was under a tremendous amount of stress.
Andrew had just been diagnosed (with autism) 2 months prior.
I was at a loss.

Therapies were not working.
They seemed to be making my son more angry.

I would come home from sessions with bruises and scratch marks on my arms, and bloodied lips from him head-butting me as I tried to keep him from throwing himself on the ground and getting hurt.
I was so weak.

I drank as a coping mechanism.
I drank because I was in so much pain, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.

It started with a glass of wine here and there.
But it manifested quickly into a problem.
I justified it by telling myself that I was a more relaxed wife and mother with a drink or 2 in me.
That was the biggest lie ever.

By the end I was completely out of control.
It culminated in me drinking too much and finding myself in the ER with my husband by my side.

(My husband) showed me why he had even taken me to the ER.
A fleece sleeper that had been worn by my son the night before.
It had my vomit all over it from me throwing up on him as I tried to rock him to sleep.

That was rock bottom.
Oh the pain!
The shame!
My heart broke in a way that it had never before.
That was the first day of my new life.

Immediately I went to my first Celebrate Recovery meeting.
Recovery is a terribly hard road.
The ‘not drinking’ was only part of the struggle.
Facing the reasons behind the addiction are much more difficult.

The physical need for alcohol was gone pretty quickly.
But the mental addiction had a death grip on my self-control.
Every single time I went to the store to get groceries, I had to call my sponsor, or my husband.

Someone needed to talk me through the store so that I wouldn’t go down the liquor aisle and lose all of my willpower.
Vodka was my coping mechanism, and I hadn’t figured out a new one yet.

Getting clean was a humbling experience indeed.

I remember the moment that the desire to drink went away.
(In recovery) we were talking about guilt.
It was my turn.

I said:
“I feel like it is my fault my son has Autism.
I was supposed to protect him and I didn’t.
What if I caused my son to regress into Autism?”

In that moment, I felt 1000lbs lighter.
It was the first moment that I did not want a drink.
I admitted out loud what had been eating away at my soul for years.
And it felt good.

I have a special place in my heart for those suffering from addiction.

I know from my own experience how easy it is to slip into a pattern that you never ever would have imagined.

Don’t be like me.
Don’t be full of pride.
Don’t be so strong that you aren’t willing to ask for help.
Asking for help is not a sign of weakness.

Don’t ignore that voice in your head telling you that you are reaching your breaking point.

Don’t make the same mistakes I made.

Don’t be like me.

Wendy Hoard

I so appreciate Wendy allowing me to tell her story.
And I’m sure there are a lot of you out there who can relate.

Please feel free to share your story.
There is NO shame.
Especially on this page.

And if you want to read more about Wendy go to:
http://www.bugaboostreasures.blogspot.com/…/don-be-like-me.…

‪#‎StayStrong‬
‪#‎TakeControl‬
‪#‎NeverGiveUp‬

Frank Somerville KTVU's photo.
Categories: kirk weisler, coffee sugar, exercise 3, yoga class, and walking in the garden. | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

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