Smile Addiction Support

- sharing as anonymous this was sent to me by a very brave woman who is looking for help and support as she navigates trying to move forward from her trauma and drug dependence.

I was sexually assaulted by a “family member” at when I was 13 years old and my family didn’t do anything about it, didn’t ring the police are anything or even ask me how I felt once. So I got left to deal with it on my own till now almost turning 34. I finally rang the police. Also my family found out I was taking sleeping tablets because for years I had been suffering with sleep paralysis of me being r***d and nightmares so I started buying pregabs 3/4 years ago, also nearly every relationship I have had has been a domestic violence relationships. I’ve been off the tablets for 2 weeks now but my family are saying I’ve changed but trying to tell them that the tablets have been be**er blockers for me and made me feel happy and now I’m not on them I’m trying to find who I was before them. My daughter is 16 and my son is almost 7, if he’s asleep and my daughter is awake, and I know I’m going to have a bad night, I go for a 10/15 minute drive to clear my head and listen to my music. Me and my daughter are clashing she’s went to stay with my mam for a little while but I just feel like no one understands the thoughts that haunt me and how am trying to find the knew sober me. I’ve got stars involved and sexual violence therapy and loads more I’m accepting everything I can at the moment but right now I feel lost I don’t know who I was before I took the tablets and my family are just at me saying I’ve changed. I’m not sleeping, I’ve lost a lot of weight over the months. I barely eat. I just don’t know where to go from here with my family. They say I’m pushing them because I feel like I can’t do right from wrong sober or not. So I’m just after some advice, I feel really depressed and got bad anxiety too

Seen this and had to share.

I am the non-addict who knows all too well what it’s like to have an addict in the family.

I know what it’s like to worry yourself sick. To cry yourself to sleep. To stare at baby pictures & reminisce.

I know to watch out for pinhole pupils and subtle changes in behavior. To listen to them talk and make excuses and pile on lie after lie. I know what it’s like to pretend to believe them because you are just too mentally exhausted for an argument when you know they are lying straight to your face.

I know what it’s like to be confused all of the time; to see their potential, to know what they are throwing away.

I know what it’s like to want their recovery more than they do. To be the one doing research on rehabs and other outlets for recovery.

I know what it’s like to miss someone who is still standing right in front of you.

I know what it’s like to wonder if each unexpected phone call is “the” phone call. I know what it’s like to be hurt so bad and be made so sick that part of you wishes you would get “the” phone call if nothing is going to change. You want that finality. You need the cycle to end. I know what it’s like to hate yourself for even allowing yourself to find relief in that horrible thought.

I know what it’s like to get the worst news of your life, and still walk into the grocery store and run your errands and smile at the cashier.

Everything the outside world expected of me seemed frivolous if I couldn’t keep one of my most important people in my life out of harm’s way.

I know what it’s like to be really feverishly angry!! Between the sadness there is a lot of anger. I know what it’s like to feel guilty for being so mad, even knowing all you know about addiction. You are allowed to be angry. This is not the life you signed up for.

I know the difference between enabling and empowering. I know there is a fine line between the two and the difference can mean life or death. I know what it’s like to the feel the weight of each day on your shoulders trying to balance the two.

I have been through enough to know that things don’t just change for the worse overnight; they can change in a millisecond. In a blink of an eye. As quick as it takes two people to make a $10 exchange.

I know what it’s like to feel stigmatized. To be the “mother of a drug addict,” a “sister of a drug addict", a "ex wife of a drug addict".

I know what it feels like to be handled with kid-gloves because no one outside of your toxic bubble knows what to say to help or criticizes you for your decisions or the sins of your loved one.

I know what it's like to be embarrassed when friends or neighbors tell you what they've seen or heard about your loved ones. I know what it's like to constantly have to wonder who seen the sheriff at your house or the fight that occurred before that.

I know what it's like to openly talk about your loved one being an addict in hopes people will judge you a little less because you can admit your loved one is an addict and does wrong.

I don’t know what the future holds for anyone who loves an addict today. One thing I know for sure is I am not alone in this battle.

Loving a drug addict is like grieving the loss of someone who's still alive.