Confession of an Addict

I haven't posted in awhile but had the time to read this from a friend, it inspired me and reassured me that I wasn't the only person feeling the same way.  Lexi K. It takes a lot of courage to do what you did and for what it's worth I'm proud of you .

Written by Lexi K
I’m not sure what to approach first, with regard to this letter. My head is still spinning from the news of a friend dying from a drug overdose. I even question whether or not I should write this, as I type out these words. But if these words can encourage someone to hold on to their life… to keep from ever using, or to find the strength to stop; then it’s more important that these words are shared. I am a drug addict. I’ve considered what’s at stake, for myself, by sharing this- but I find myself without regard for that. I won’t allow my selfish needs to get in the way of potentially reaching another human being’s life.
When news reaches us of a friend dying from such a terrible affliction, we tend to get the feeling of great loss. I feel grief when I hear of such a talented human being leaving this earth. And anytime a person uses drugs, they are taking the chance that their life will be taken from them. Whether the drugs steal your breath, or rob one last beat from your heart- that is left to fate. But they will steal your life from you. Whether you are the occasional user or someone that uses every day, every moment spent using drugs (alcohol included) is a moment stolen from your life; a mmory you will only recall with vague reflection- through fogged glass- leaving an imprint in your memory like a stamp without it’s ink. That is, of course, my own realization.
I want to express that I chose to share this about myself because I could not hear of another person being robbed of their life due to addiction; knowing that I stayed quiet about mine. Knowing that if, by sharing my story, I could potentially save a life- and didn’t; that I would no longer be able to look myself in the mirror with the same pride I’ve allowed myself to have, for overcoming the thing that almost took my life.
For several years, I lived for drugs. I lived for other things as well. But drugs dictated the other things I lived for. I thought more about using than I thought about any other “pleasures.” There are countless nights of blacking out and making poor decisions as a result of my overusing. I wasted the time of valuable people by allowing my addictions to tug me out of their grip. I worried the people that cared about me. My friends. My family. All for the sake of something that I believed I had control over. I didn’t even realize how low drugs had pulled me. But I stand now from a higher place. Not higher than anyone else, or anyone that is using. Just a higher place than I was before. My thoughts are clear. My body is energized. And the creativity now flows out of me easier than it ever had when I was using. I wake up looking forward to my days, rather than looking for a way to get through them. I feel the life inside of me now… the life that I deprived myself of for so long.
The root causes of addiction, like those of many multifactorial diseases, are frustratingly elusive, a nebulous mixture of genetics, exposure, and environment. People who think addiction is not a disease- that addicts are not genetically predisposed- should reconsider. The mentality and behavior of drug addicts and alcoholics is wholly irrational until you understand that they are completely powerless over their addiction and unless they have structured help, they have no hope. We are not bad people trying to be good; we’re sick people trying to get well. My belief that if we regard alcoholics and drug addicts not as bad people, but as sick people, then we can help them to get better.
I wish to clarify that this letter is not my way of trying to indoctrinate. This is not my dogma. This is my truth. Only mine. I have no judgments for the way anyone chooses to live their life. And I have only compassion for those who currently struggle with their addictions. We sometimes have to learn through our own experiences, as I had to with mine. I was too strong-minded and wrapped up in my own addictions to listen to anyone. It was even obnoxious to hear someone speak about addiction, to me. I wasn’t “a part of that club” I thought. I shut myself off to good advice. I thought I had control. I thought… but now I know. I am an addict, and I’ve never been more proud saying it, because when I think about where I’ve been, and where I am now… I am proud of the woman who has addressed and admitted to herself, what was once a clouded denial. Self-acceptance and love are two things I’ve never had for myself until recently. I hold them closely, now, by my own humbled awareness. And I wouldn’t trade that in for any pill- on any day.
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