So there I was fresh out of alcohol and drug treatment, getting loaded in a half furnished apartment, and missing in action from work again. I didn’t know what was going on with me, and although I didn’t know it at the time, I was repeating the familiar pattern of numbing myself out for as long as I could, just so I didn’t have to feel or think.
After a couple days, my family began looking for me. My brother and sister-in-law actually came to my apartment, nearly breaking the door down to find me hiding out in the bathroom getting loaded. They saw me and gave me an ultimatum right then and there; come live with them, work out of their home, sell the fancy sports car, and a number of other contingencies. It was either I abided by these stipulations or I was out on the street. I conceded and moved in with them.
I did alright for awhile. I really did. I tried my best to be thankful, grateful for the chance, but the loneliness and depression set in soon enough. I was getting antsy, and didn’t truly understand what they wanted. All they wanted was for me to be safe and clean. They thought if I didn’t have access to the drugs, my clean time would rack up under my belt, and then finally I could get back to a normal life. My sister in-law was very helpful. She took me to meetings and picking me up and taking me to appointments.
Little did I know at that time in my life, I was up against something so powerful and devastating. My loneliness and depressive state kept the desire to get high very strong.
Check out the continuation of my story: Addiction, Moving into High Gear