
Reflecting back to the age of 15 when I had serious #substanceabuse #issues. Getting obliterated on soma until overdose, drunk every weekend, drinking in school, parties. But no matter how many pills I swallowed, no matter how much booze I consumed, I still woke up to the same family violence drama. But for those few hours, those drunken glorious moments there was sheer bliss. I didn’t have to be myself, I was numb and didn’t have a care in this world. Willpower saved me, not God. At 15 no one believed in me, hell I didn’t even believe in my fucking self. The FEW friends I had were my confidants. They knew what was happening yet kept it a secret. No child protective investigator ever came to the home. Everything was a secret. A secret I was too scared to tell. I was scared to tell people my mother was an abusive alcoholic. Yelling and screaming all the time. Getting violent. But something woke me up at 18. And it was finally, for a brief year and a half I got away from her. I was sober. I was going to have my own family. But then I went back into her home…and it all started again….
