Category: Mental Health Challenges

You Can Lead a Horse to Water But You Can’t Make Her Drink It: How One Girl Learned to Want This Thing Called Recovery Bad Enough to Drink The Damn Water

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I'm sure you know that drive alone can't beat addiction. For a while, I asked myself how do I want to want to stay sober? I knew I needed to but did I want too? Not really. Eventually, though, I did learn to want it bad enough. Looking back, I see it all so clearly —at least today I do. What they say about hindsight really is true. Except, it wasn't always like this. For a while, I let opioids control my entire life. They controlled me until I realized I didn't actually need them. It was a false freedom I mistakenly took for empowerment. I mean, I had this picture in my head of the great things I'd do. So yeah, I had a lot of drive but I had a lot of pressure too. Along the way though, I learned that it all comes down to how badly you want it. You can lead a horse to water but you can't make her drink it. Except, I'm asking you too. I want you to chug. I want you to get more out of life than simply white knuckling you're way to the end. I want you to enjoy this ride we call life —even if drive alone can't beat addiction. So this is where I tell you three ways you can learn to want this thing called recovery bad enough that it'll actually stick.

Shame, Rape & PTSD: How My Addiction From Five Years Ago Still Impacts My New Normal Today

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It's morning. You should be waking up refreshed, ready to start your day. But not me. Instead, I usually have to go downstairs, open the linen closet doors and grab a towel to dry myself off. Did I just work out? No. I woke up like this —literally. What I'm talking about here isn't pretty. It's the opposite, in fact. What I'm getting at is something called PTSD. Most mornings, I wake up drenched in my own sweat. Why? Because I have nightmares that are so severe, they cause physical bodily symptoms. So I close my eyes or in this case, hit play, and it all comes flooding back like I'm still there. Somewhere else inside, I know I'm safe. But when that shit manifests into those damn symptoms, I can't help but relive everything all over again.

28 Days Isn’t Just a Movie Starring Sandra Bullock, It Was My Life: What A Typical Week Looked Like Inside A Boca Raton Rehab

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Waking up really is the hardest part. Except at this point, my mornings weren't filled with fear. Or, at least not the type I had been running from. During the height of my addiction, waking up meant I had to snort at least 60 milligrams before even thinking about getting out of bed. If I didn't, I'd be sick —opioid withdrawal sick, the kind of sick you'd do anything to avoid. But that's not me anymore. It had been almost three weeks since I got high. I really can't put into words just how special it feels to wake up and not need a pill to function. Yeah, I was about to be put on some mental health meds but that' different. And so, just as the tech promised, 7:00 a.m. rolls around and I'm politely woken up by the same friendly face —ready to start my day just as I will continue to do for the next 28 days.

College, Crossroads, & Co-Dependency: I Had Two Different Paths That I Could Have Taken Post-Graduation, This is What I Chose

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I remember when we said goodbye. He was so mad at me. I was a little mad at me too —for letting things get so screwed up. I definitely led him on all summer just like he said. I was an official college graduate; diploma in hand, ready for the next chapter to begin. One path brought me down south —South Florida to be exact. My family relocated there from New Jersey a few years prior and they just so happened to hate my drug-dealing boyfriend (except back then, they didn't even know he sold). I say this because the other led me west with him, Brad. Which story was I going to tell? I didn't know yet. All I knew then was that I had to make a decision. So, here it goes.

Masquerade Status, Junkie Sadness, & Pawn Shop Madness: How I Afforded Pills at the Height of My Addiction

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I was more stuck than ever but I couldn't let anyone else know how bad off I really was. So I'd put on a mask and pretend I was enjoying the bed I made. Except, I wasn't happy, sane or functional. I was addicted, defensive, and in full savage mode. Things were different. No matter how bad it got in college, I always had Brad. We kept each other in check, but this time, I was all alone, with no one to look out for me but me. And you definitely didn't want this junkie on your side. I mean, I was the girl who robbed you and helped you look for it. I was the girl who used to have it all together. Except now, I had nothing but pill residue everywhere. So how did I afford to keep everything up? Three words: pawn shop madness.

Freshman, Foreclosures, & Fresh Starts: What It Was Like Getting Evicted From the Only Home I’ve Ever Known During The Most Confusing Time in a Girl’s Life

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Regardless of the politics, it was still hard. In short, I hated being home. It was a shocking reminder of how messed up my family life had become and I didn’t want to deal with that or feel any of these feelings. I mean, what teenager would anyway? I remember wishing I was anywhere, but here —be careful what you wish for. At the time, I was a freshman in high school. I lived in an affluent suburb of South Jersey and up until this point, everything was fairly "normal" —except, a few somethings were about to go really wrong. It would later be revealed that my once perfect existence was really all smoke and mirrors. But let's start at the beginning.

Because There’s a Season for Everything & I Was Still On a Mission: What 24 Hours Looks Like At An 8-Month Rehab

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It's been a month. I feel good. I feel better, not perfect but getting there. I'm on my way to sanity. Except, for some reason, I'm still feeling left out. What were my druggie buddies up too? I couldn't help but think back. It wasn't all bad though. As the days went by, I started opening up more. I gave myself over to the process. I followed all of the rules and did my best to be my best. Eventually, I started to heal. When that happened, I realized that healing doesn't mean the damage never existed. I mean, the damage had been done. But that's irrelevant. Healing actually means the damage I caused no longer had to control my life. And when I figured that out, well, shit just made sense. Here's what a day at the mission looked like for me.

Childhood, Cherry Hill, Control: Where it All Began & Why I Am The Way I Am

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I remember love. I remember laughter. But I also recall resentment and tears. I will say that growing up, I never went without. In fact, I always had too much. And I think that's how my addiction ultimately began. My family was loving. My mom, selfless. My dad, the provider. And, my sister, my role model. We were small but close-knit. I'd like to say fierce. They always had my back. They were (and still are) a bit overprotective but you'll never hear me say they didn't care. So if you're wondering why I am the way I am today, read this.

Because One is Too Many and a Thousand is Never Enough: Here’s What My First Day in Rehab Looked Like

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Home —what was that? I hadn’t had one in what felt like forever. The only thing I had was fear. Except, today, I was an official resident at my very first drug treatment center. I made it through the intervention, the detox —both which I never thought would happen, and now this. I remember arriving in the druggy buggy (our way of saying a white van) directly from the county ran detox that I didn't want to admit, saved my life. I remember them searching me. For once, I had nothing to hide. I remember them finishing up the in-take process and taking me to my new home away from home. I was ready.

You Are Who You Hang Out With: What I Learned From Getting Love Wrong and How I Finally Got it Right

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You know that moment between sleep and wakefulness —when you're just getting up and reality is a little warped and everything seems OK? Well, that moment ended. Everything comes flooding back when I realize, it wasn’t a dream. What the fuck was I going to do now? I was in love with yet another addict and I would later learn that my bad taste in drug dealing boyfriends only escalated the inevitable. But eventually, I learned that when you refuse to settle for less than the best —the best tends to track you down. I was actually being treated right. I wasn't lied to. I wasn't being deceived. Because of that, I wasn't lying or deceiving either. And after that, well, things just started working out.

Because It Really is a Family Disease: How My Addiction Affected The People I Love Most

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As my addiction grew stronger, so did my efforts to remain high. Eventually, I had to do things I never wanted to do. I knew they were wrong even then but that didn't stop me. It hurts like hell to think what chaos I caused —especially to the ones I love the most. These are the people who loved me when I couldn't even love myself. But when it's all said and done, it really does start and end with family. Here's how addiction affected mine.

Welcome to My Intervention: I Wasn’t Ready For Things to Blow Up in My Face But Deep Down I Knew it Was Over

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I arrive home and to my surprise, I beat my sister there. I was so depressed just thinking about what was to come. I had a feeling this was the end. And so, I tried to drown my anxiety by taking more pills. I snort three in one line. I instantly felt better. As the powder hit my bloodstream, I could breathe. It would later be revealed that all of this was leading up to my intervention, which ultimately drove me to detox and rehab for the very first time. This is what you need to know.

Ambien & Counting Sheep: Why I Don’t Feel Bad About Sleeping In Anymore and 4 Reasons Why You Shouldn’t Either

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Even before I was an addict, I battled with sleep —not so much staying asleep but I couldn't slow my mind down long enough to go to bed at a decent hour. Some nights, I'd toss and torn while others, I was sick of pretending I was comfortable. So I'd get up at whatever time it was, usually 2:00 a.m. and start my morning routine. But once I found what worked for me, I actually felt better during the day. I want you to say the same. I want you to sleep in and not feel bad about it either. So here are four reasons you should stay in bed and snooze.

Social Media & Depression: Why We Need to Stop Comparing Our Behind-The-Scenes With Everyone’s Highlight Reel

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I scroll and scroll. I feel dull and left out. When I look at people’s lives through these virtual filters, it feels like one big party that I wasn't invited too. How can my real life possibly compare? I sometimes get caught up in this comparison game. Do you? I mean, yes, these platforms have some advantages, but more times than not, you end up getting sucked into this black hole of notifications and newsfeeds. We live in an era where you can cyberstalk anyone and everything, yet, you’re at home in your striped pajamas feeling like shit because everyone is having more fun than you. So let's talk about social media and mental health.

It’s Still Not Cool to Judge a Book By Its Cover: What I Wish People Knew About My Mental Illnesses

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I always felt different. At least today I know why. It's just I sometimes still fear people think I'm crazy because of my insane insecurities. I mean, on one hand, I am but on the other, I'm just like everybody else. And yet, it doesn't make me feel any less alone. You may think I'm being weak but you never really knew me and you certainly don't know the person I've become. I want you to know but you never ask. If you did, this is what I'd say.

I’m The Driver Now: How Holistic Therapy Helps Me Enjoy This Ride We Call Life in 3 Ways

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I was the poster child of hedonism. I chased highs and escape. I ate too much. I drank too much. I gossiped too much. I bought too much. I smoked too much. I worked too much. The list clearly goes on. Because I felt so empty, I used an insane amount of external things to fill the holes on the inside —anything that fed my senses, I was hungry for. Because I had failed to address any of the things that were driving my need to escape in the first place, my first go at ditching pills crashed and burned. But then, I switched my plan of attack. It was during this time that holistic therapy began to take on a whole new meaning for me. So here it goes.

Life After Mind-Altering Substances: I’m 30 Days Clean, Now What?

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I sit here with a clear head excited about what's to come. I've worked hard these past few weeks and I'm actually hopeful. But when I'm all alone in my bedroom, I can't help but think, what now? I know I have the tools to succeed in my recovery, yet, I still feel stuck (sometimes). It's like when there's nothing to do and I'm a little bored, I find myself asking, what if I got high? I can't. I know I can't. And the truth is, I won't. But seriously, what am I supposed to do now? Well, I can think of seven things.

Diabetic Confessions: Here’s How Stress Affects My Blood Sugar Levels & What To Do If It Happens To You

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I remember being on vacation and not needing my standard amount of insulin. I didn't understand why my blood sugars were so stable and almost normal until I understood how stress effects just about everything. Many anxious moments occur spontaneously. However, some can be predicted. And if you can predict it, you can prevent it. Here's what you need to know about stress and blood sugar levels.

Halfway Houses & Double Lives: When Relapse Mode Goes Too Far But Then I Finally Got it Right

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I was a hostess at The Office, an $18 gourmet burger joint on Atlantic Ave. in Del Ray Beach, Florida. Not only was the meat fresh in the kitchen, I was fresh meat myself, straight out of rehab, even though I really wanted to get high. I was living in a halfway house that happened to be next door to a dealer. “You good girl?” (referring to drugs). The pills I craved. I didn’t know how much longer I could say no because inside, I said yes, every time. From desperation and manipulation to hopelessness and loneliness, things got worse before they got better. But eventually, they did. They always do. This is what you need to know when relapse mode goes too far.