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.
In my latest blog post, I discussed how my life basically exploded as my lies went up in flames. Everything I was running from was staring at me straight in the face. I was attending an intervention I never thought would be for me. But there I was. My sister, Michaela, and Dr. Eddy finally made me crack. But in a good way —the best. I finally broke down. I finally wanted the help I desperately needed —help that happened to be right in front of me. And so, to detox, I went. I was freaked out, fucked up and alone. I had never been to anything like this before so I didn't know what to expect. And wouldn't you say, fear of the unknown is the worst kind? Because I would. Here goes nothing.
Shit was about to get real. According to Ted Bramer, a local county prosecutor, the wiretap obtained in the police's narcotic investigation was the first state-issued warrant in 23 years. The DEA was closing in. A task force had been investigating a particular drug ring since 2011 —after a postmaster informed them the suspects were receiving suspicious packages. Officials estimated those packages contained about 500 oxycontin pills every month. And guess which dealers they were referring to? My freaking hook up.
It was the summer of 2010. I was supposed to take a few classes over break but when my financial aid was denied, it initiated a chain of events that forever changed my life. Before I knew it, I was addicted. I didn’t even know what I was getting myself into before it was too late. I was sick if I didn't have them, yet, I didn’t understand what I was doing —that's the problem with painkillers. Sometimes you don't realize how bad it really is until you run out of pills.
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.
There are some days when I can't muscle enough energy to leave the house. There are weeks when it hurts to simply get out of bed. As the months go by, I don't understand why my insides hate me. Then I found CBD oil. That's when everything changed. I say this because lately, I have more energy. I'm worrying less and socializing more. My illnesses no longer define me —despite the obstacles staring at me in the face. When it's all said and done, CBD helps me every day. Here are nine ways CBD can help you too.
College graduation is upon me along with my sensible attempts to get the good girl back. Except this chick was severely addicted to opioids. I was literally doing about 31 pills a day. But I thought if I could simply leave, then I could get better. I was living my life through the saying, out of sight, out of mind. So I pack my bags, give my apartment key back to my landlord, and try to start over, again. Destination —sunny Florida. Things started off great but I was about to learn; wherever you go, there you are. And eventually, I find myself addicted all over again. So I'll ask you one more time, who's ready to battle for some sanity? I hope you say yes.
In my last blog post, I discussed how I’m trying to swim through life with multiple mental illnesses but I can’t even float. It feels like I’m sinking with nothing to stop me but me. And so, I pretend everything is okay. And if you're like me, you want to feel normal but maybe you just don't know how. Well, here are three mental health treatment options that can bring you back to the person you were always meant to be.
This disease is not solely based on the pursuit to “look beautiful" —for those who have some type of eating disorder, it's so much more than that. Honestly, it’s as if you're in an abusive relationship. One minute it’s spewing hateful thoughts about you and the next it’s apologetically, promising that if you listen to what it says you will achieve happiness. One thing I always wish people knew about living with this type of mental illness is that it casts a shadow on everything in your life, no matter how small it may seem from the outside world. So, this is what it's really like to live with an eating disorder —at least from my perception.
I never thought this would be me. I never pictured a Jewish American Princess selling pills to support her addiction. But there I was. My once innocent fun becomes too fast, too furious for me to even realize what was happening. Parties and frat boys turn into painkillers and larceny. I was simply trying to feel good. But before I knew what these pills could do, I was already addicted. I recall one night in particular. I remember getting robbed at gunpoint with my drug dealing ex-boyfriend and junkie best friend. We were sitting in my apartment minding our own damn business. But that didn’t matter. Nothing did. And so, we sat in on this lonely summer night —with a knife under the pillow and our stash in the wall.
I lost 30 pounds in just a few short weeks. Secretly, I loved it. Maybe that was why I waited so long to actually get my symptoms checked out. The thing is, if you listen to your body when it whispers, you won't have to hear it scream. Here's what you need to know about diagnosing type one diabetes.
Just about everyone gets hurt from time to time. When you cut your finger or pull a muscle, pain is your body's way of telling you something is wrong. Once the injury heals, you stop hurting. Sounds simple enough, right? Yes. Except chronic pain is different. Whereas acute pain is a normal sensation that alerts us to possible trauma, chronic pain persists —for months or even longer. If you have chronic pain and depression, well —that burden may grow even heavier. The good news is, these disorders are not inseparable. Here's what you need to know.
Truth, most Americans these days are either trying to get pills, helping someone else get them, in recovery from using too many or worse, dead from overdosing. Don't you think it's about time for a different approach? Why are some doctors so quick to write a refill for oxy while others are too afraid to even take their prescription pad out? Well today, I have some good news. With the rise of opioid-related deaths, new regulations finally say that opiate medication should only be looked at as a last resort when treating non-cancer chronic pain —a loss for “Big Pharma” but a win for pain patients everywhere. Here's what you need to know.
Maybe you have no reason to feel anxious. Or, maybe, it's all just too much to handle. The thing is, it's okay to feel your feelings —just don't move in. There are ways to ease the pain of anxiety, and eventually eliminate it. But before you can actually work toward fixing it, you must identify why you do the things you do. This is what you need to know.
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