Deep, Dark and Dirty

Posted by Anonymous.

That is my secret. A secret that tears me apart mentally & physically and has every day for a year now. Today is the kinda anniversary of my first realization of it. I'll just go ahead and come out with it, though I've never been able to speak the words aloud, even to myself. I have a problem. A BIG problem. I am addicted to prescription pain medicine. Vicodin to be exact.

This has gone on for a year now and it seems so insane it has been this long. I know the first thing anyone reading this will think is to automatically judge me and think badly of me as a drug addict. I hate that term and all the feelings associated with it. To me, it sounds like some cowering thieving no good dirty rotten teeth creature hiding behind a dumpster shaking and sweating ramming needles in its arm. That's the mental image a lot of people get associated with the term drug attic. I know I did, I thought the same thing, until I realized I was one. Yet I am far from that visual to the eye. Did anyone hear Cindy McCain was addicted to pain meds back in the late 90's? I know it made me not feel SO horrible and trashy about my problem, though I know it doesn't justify shit.

I didn't intend on acquiring this awful habit, as I'm sure nobody sets out to do so. I had a surgery last year that had many complications resulting in lasting pain, thus me staying on the pain medication longer than originally intended. After the first week or so of taking them, I didn't really feel buzzed off of them like I did in the beginning. They just took the pain away and I could function. A few months later when I tried to stop taking them, I felt AWFUL.At the time, I didn't realize it was from stopping them, but knew I felt better when I had been taking them. For 3 days I walked around (or tried to) and just could not function. The mental anguish of anxiety and feeling like I was just gonna lose it, crying non stop, sweating profusely alternating with cold sweats, the diarrhea SO bad I couldn't go further than 4ft from the toilet. Looking back - Now I know what it was, it was withdrawals. At that time I didn't even have a clue it was related to the drug use but I knew I felt better ON them. And it wasn't considered a bad thing in my mind at the time. The Dr had given them to me for a valid reason and told me to take them. So I started taking them again - and felt back to "normal".

When my Dr suddenly quit writing them for me, I was worried. I enjoyed this feeling, not only did it give me the boost of energy to go about my daily routine, but it made the previous depression I had so long suffered with almost disappear. The past 2 years in my family's life has been pure hell, one thing after another with me being the targeted victim getting the brunt of it all. This could & should be a separate post in itself ---> I went through a stressful complicated pregnancy in late 2005 - early 2006 alone (though I was married), only to find out my husband had been having an affair the entire time and was planning on leaving me and taking our older child with him. (All of these events could be a novel in themselves so I'll try to keep it short. And I KNOW it is not an excuse for MY behavior or to blame for my problem. I'm just trying to convey the level of stress causing and contributing to my depression.) After a long painful 3 months of living with this horrid situation trying to make it work, hubby and I decided to part ways. After learning all the down and dirty details of this affair (thanks to his slut bag mistress telling me EVERYTHING I never wanted to know - I drove myself insane with rehashing these memories over and over!), doubled with the PPD, no, tripled with a screaming colicky baby that wouldn't let me put her down = I was a basket case.

So he was leaving, and I had no where to go. 4 days before he was to leave, he was diagnosed with 2 very horrible types of cancer (karma?) and was given 2 weeks to live. It was the scariest situation I have ever been through in my life. I couldn't leave him lying there on his death bed, although I truly hated him for all he had done to me. I was stuck. So I did the humane thing I knew I SHOULD do, against the advice of my closest girlfriends at the time, and stayed. I stayed with him throughout all of the chemo and hospital stays and nursed him back to health at home for an entire year. Supposedly, everything was "better". This life changing event was supposed to make everything all better - but I still had all of those horrible feelings crammed down inside me. Just because he got better, those feelings never went away. All that stuff was still there, merely pushed aside for a bigger crisis. However I was the only one who seemed to remember it and feel it. I had no closure on the situation.

He got better and went back to work, leaving me at home with the now 1 year old and an 8 yr old. Alone. Day & night while he tried to make up for a year's lost wages. I was alone with the baby during the day until my son came home from school, just them, me, and my insanity. All the depression was still there, just like it had been since I was 15 years old when my parents started me in therapy for it. But I quit after I became pregnant with my first child at age 18 thinking the baby would bring joy and hope into my life and I wouldn't be depressed anymore. Not to mention the antidepressants I was on were fairly new, and the effects on an unborn child were unknown - so I quit taking them. Plus, I had to focus on him, not me anymore. It got a little better in the first few years I had him, being a busy young Mom trying to make a life for us. I didn't have time to sit around and worry about how I felt. Hubby and I grew together and made a life for our new young family. Things were better. Until the 2nd baby mess came about and all that drama.

Off and on I have struggled with this addiction, hating myself, feeling ashamed, trying several times to get off of them on my own only to go right back to them. I've tried everything, replacing them with other meds, tapering them down to lessen the withdrawals but nothing ever works. Not with where I am. Now I have to find them "on the streets". Just like those creatures behind the dumpsters. Humiliating. Hubby KNOWS fully about my problem, and even gets them for me so I'll be "OK" because he hates to see me like that. He also plays sort of a (really fucked up demented) game with them, making me agree to do sexual favors for him in exchange for him getting them. The few times I tried quitting on my own I never made it past the 3rd or 4th day being stuck on the couch, unable to function or even get up or think and be the super Mom everyone expects of me. That I HAVE to be. Maybe if I were alone, not solely responsible for a high demands 2 yr old screaming at me ALL DAY LONG, I could lay in bed and eventually get over it. But with the responsibilities I have now, I can't accomplish both. I just can't do what I need to do where I'm at right now. So hubby does his work, calling around, and brings me some asking if I feel better now. (I know, he is awful for enabling me, I hate it too).

I have had countless break downs curled into a fetal position on my bed crying, BEGGING him to PLEASE let me go to rehab and get help.But he just kinda blows it off with the opinion of the fact that he grew up with parents submersed in addiction and has no sympathy for it cause "it's all in your head". He is desensitized to it all. He just says, "Oh, you'll be alright, it's not that bad, you just need to grow some balls and get over it.You're making it a bigger deal than it is." But then the next day or so he'll come home with some and say, "I just want you to be happy." Every time I bring up rehab, he has a million reasons of why NOT. Because it would be an embarrassment to our family, he can't take off work to keep the kids... It's even harder because I am literally a stuck at home Mom with NO car, no way to go anywhere, take my kids anywhere, go to the store, or especially take myself to the Dr. I have always depended on either hubby or my Mom taking me where I needed to go. Now that Mom is not talking to me, I am really stuck, not to mention lonely as she was my best friend, my ONLY friend.

Earlier this year, I went into my OB/GYN for my check up and saw one of 9 Dr's practicing there. (Not my regular sweet loving compassionate female Dr that offered me nerve pills at my 6 week PP follow up when I told her about the affair...and I didn't accept them but it was the thought that counts to me.) I saw a male Dr, the one I like the least,a cocky prick by his manner, but he was all that was available. I broke down sitting on the exam table telling him everything thinking he would immediately offer help and support and actually FUCKING HELP ME or something. Seeing where I am today, you can probably guess that didn't go as planned. He said that was not his department or place and his words were so sharp and hurtful saying stuff like "You're going to hurt your entire family with this, not just yourself, and how horrible and selfish of you to do this to your children. They usually take drug addict's kids AWAY from them and place them in foster care..." The first few comments WERE true, all of it I already knew but still, he had NO compassion or tact at all. Like I hadn't thought all those same things! But the threat of having my kids taken away???? Scared the living shit out of me!!! I ran from his office crying and praying he didn't call the cops on me.

I do have family, that if it came down to it, would keep my kids for me. But as of right now, we are not on speaking terms because of a fight we had and I don't want to face them - not in the state I am in now. They're close to knowing, they know something is going on, but not exactly what. It kills me to be estranged from them after being SO close my entire life literally working together, eating together, always being at each other's house, talking on the phone 20 times a day. But I just CAN'T tell them. I can't hurt them like that. They've got enough of their own problems as it is. Besides, there are several other of our family members that have prescription drug problems, and I know how they are treated and viewed among the family. I don't want to be put into that category.

I CAN NOT live like this anymore, I want my old life back, even if it was depressing. I am not the same super Mom I used to be, baking cookies for neighbors and teachers, working hours on end in my garden, playing with my children...I used to have projects that I enjoyed working on, now they're all crammed in the garage for another day. I used to be creative and artistic and find joy in creating things and doing stuff. Now it is all I can do to tread water to keep up with the mandatory daily stuff. Now I stay in my house secretly consumed with counting pills, worrying if I'll have enough for tomorrow, harassing hubby to hunt for more... I don't have any real life friends anymore, I don't talk on the phone anymore or even open my blinds. Son goes to school, hubby goes to work, and daughter and I stay home, inside, killing time until the guys come home. I have the same routine everyday, 2 loads of laundry, the dishes, cooking, keeping daughter content. It is very rare that we leave on any outings during the day, and if we do, I have to make sure I have enough pills to take with me.

It has affected my relationship with my kids too. I know I'm not the same Mommy I used to be and the older child has made random comments about me not being happy and always being grumpy. He takes every opportunity to go home with his cousin after school instead of coming home. I don't blame him, I know it sucks here. I know I am hurting my kids with my addiction and behavior. I feel deep down also that it is affecting HIS behavior, which lately has been spiraling down fast. The guilt alone from that, thinking I am messing my kid up makes me hate myself even more.

I HATE that I have let these horrible things consume me and kill every sign of life I ever had. I HATE being a slave to them and letting them control me. I know I could stop if I could just go somewhere long enough to get better. I have spent countless hours researching online about treatment options, rehab facilities, etc. I found a great one, but it is clear across the other side of the states for me, and it costs $17,000. I know my insurance would cover something here too locally if I could find a place where I could stay long enough to detox and get through the withdrawals. I just can't get through that part here where I'm at. That is the hardest part in my point of view right now. I'd like to find a place that is caring and compassionate with their patients, NOT treating them like they are criminals or 2nd class citizens. The same way most everyone else views the situation, looking down on a user. Believe me, I've gotten down on myself enough as it is. I don't think I could get any lower, my self esteem is completely gone. I've thought all the horrible things and said all the horrible negative things to myself. My biggest fear is reaching out for help and just getting beat down & judged even more - if that is even possible. Also the looming fear that if I do try to reach out for any help on my own, even just calling somewhere would alert authorities somehow and possibly my children being taken away. That alone is enough to keep me hiding this secret, I just won't risk that. I'm not a criminal, I'm not endangering my kids. They are healthy, clean, fed, and have everything and possibly more than most kids do not have the luxuries of. Just not a happy Mommy that they deserve.

Just writing this, is the biggest step I have ever taken in concern to this problem (besides telling Dr Dickhead). I have never let on to ANYONE about it besides my husband who is just as ashamed as I am about it. So this is my deep, dark, dirty secret. I ask that if you do comment, please try to be gentle. I know what a horrible person I am for having this problem, but it can happen to anyone anytime. Everyone says they don't judge other people, but it is impossible to not. It is human nature and we ALL do it whether we realize we are doing it or not. I judge myself every single day, hating myself for being like this and turning into one of "those" people I myself used to judge and think bad about. How did I let myself get this way???

Any advice, suggestions, support, similar stories of I can relate from personal experience or a family member - just anything would be appreciated. In my short time visiting the blogosphere I have seen first hand the love and power that can come from it. I know I need help. I really do want it more than anything in the world. Even if nobody comments at all, at least I said it out loud. It is killing me keeping this for so long.

Today is one of those days where I am down to only having 1 left, and nervously await hubby to try to meet up with "the guy" after work to get more. If it does not work out, tomorrow will be hell and all the days after until I can find some.

I just want out.