Over the Years

As I approach another year alive, I wonder… I contemplate the last 32 years. While I don’t remember much of early childhood, I remember feeling different, lonely, scared that what I experienced would scare others away. Hearing voices didn’t help, and as soon as I realized the voices weren’t real (I was 6 years old) I began to bury all feeling, all emotion that could lead to the insanity of my brain. I was successful for some years but it was hard to hide it. Eventually, at the age of 12 I turned to drugs. Pills and alcohol to be exact. They shut my mind off more than I could have hoped. I felt a freedom I’d never recalled before. It only escalated from there. By the age of 14 I was addicted to heroin and the battle continued. I watched friends overdose, I learned cpr to counter this. I overdosed myself at times. It was a dangerous life, but at the time there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do to stop the crazy, the voices, the screaming… I don’t know exactly what kept my friends going but they did.

By the age of 17 I was quite a well known drug dealer in my town. By 18 I was making thousands a day. Thriving but miserable, I tried to change. Time and time again I tried to escape. Reaching out to anyone that could help me. At the age of 19 I was finally arrested but had fallen so low, there was barely anything to be had when the law raided the house I was staying in. Nonetheless, I went to jail, and the 7 months I spent there saved my life. Because at that point I was just waiting to die. Like a few of my friends before me, I had consigned myself to death. So I stayed alive by going to jail, by going to rehab and then entering felony drug court. It was of the most intense intensive outpatient treatment you could ever imagine, but it worked. For almost 3 years I went through this program, being placed in a special group for mental illness I went through the program.

During this time I was reintroduced to my future wife. We had met in our teenage years and reconnected. So anyway, after that time I was cleared of being a felon and began enjoying the drink that has haunted me ever since. The drink that makes all thoughts go away, but in turn brings you so low that it’s hard to escape. I’ve been battling the balance of escape and reenter for years now and it grows tiring. I doubt my own strength to continue, so I’ve been looking for outlets, for therapy that might help. For anything that might help. I’ve had a LOT of therapy, but I think this next step into therapy could make a huge dent in my struggle between addiction and mental stability. I truly hope it is, because as I approach another year in age, I am growing tired of the old coping mechanisms. I need severe change

That’s my rant, my story for the night. I may be young but I have lived through much, and I just want the chance to see more. I’m tired but not done. I’ll keep fighting til I can’t and I have amazing support to do so, from my amazing wife and kids, to my mom who is always showing support from afar and some dearly close friends, I can do this. So I will. Cheers to another year.

Published by The Lost Girl

Hi, my name is Elsie. My struggles with mental health, sexuality, transitioning, and alcohol are very real. I just wanted to share just in case what I have to say can help someone. Love you all

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