My name is Katie Maslin and I’m an alcoholic and addict
I was born in Orlando, Fl in 1973. My parents were in a rock band. My parents divorced, and the band broke up, when I was three. My first experience with drugs was witnessing my Uncle Joe kill himself. He was high on PCP and shot himself with a shotgun. He was seventeen. I was four.
My Childhood
When I started school, my mother worked in a dress shop during the day and sang during the evening. I didn’t see much of my father. My mom struggled financially. She was a single mother after all. I always felt less than and was self-conscious. I was bullied constantly during elementary and middle school. My nickname became “welfare princess.” We were never even on welfare! Though we did live in the “projects” for awhile. This only added to my low self-esteem.
In high school, things started to get a little better. I met a nice guy and we dated for years. My mother met a nice man and finally got married. No more living in the projects for us! I began to model at a local department store. I entered Teen Magazine’s modeling contest and was a finalist! I appeared in the magazine and won a small scholarship from Maybelline. I even entered the local Miss American Prelim Pageant. I won! I was on my way to the Miss Georgia Pageant!
My Struggles with Addiction
Up to this point, I’d never done drugs or drank alcohol. All I wanted was to be the next Miss America. I was a straight A student and had been accepted to Georgia Southern University. With the money I’d already won modeling, and a few more scholarships, my education was completely covered.
When I got to GA Southern, I got in the BEST Sorority. I was on top of the world. Then I found out my wonderful boyfriend of four years had been unfaithful. I was crushed to my very soul. I left GA Southern and took the rest of the year off to prepare for the Miss Georgia Pageant. I went back to my high school job, waiting tables at a local restaurant. It was there I was introduced to cocaine for the first time.
My friend told me coke would help control my eating. That’s all I needed to hear. I was off and running. I started drinking with my coworkers every night after work. We drank and did coke all night. I felt like I’d finally found a diet plan that worked! Add vodka into the equation and I was, again, on top of the world!
I took cocaine with me to the Miss Georgia Pageant. Needless to say, I didn’t win. That wasn’t a good day.
Shortly afterwards, I met my first husband at a bar called Murphy’s Tavern. Oh, he was a dapper man! Guess what his job was? He was a Master Sommelier, a wine expert. Whoo-hoo!!! It was love at first sign. Two weekends later, we conceived our son in Donald Trump’s guest bedroom. Two weekends after that, we were married at the Lyford-Cay Club in the Bahamas.
We both got a lot more than we bargained for. He got a quickly blooming addict wife and I got a verbally abusive husband. After our son was born, I began to use coke again. My husband bullied me about my weight everyday. The more he said, the more I wanted to use and drink. It was at this point that i was introduced to crack. Crack changed EVERYTHING.
My Life Went From Bad to Worse
After a few years, my husband got a job offer in Palm Beach, at the Mar-A-Lago Club, with Donald Trump. We were moving. I wouldn’t have any connections! What was I going to do? What if someone found out? One night, I went out looking for crack with my son in the car. I can hardly write this part. I saw a prostitute walking. I gave her money and she took me to get some crack. I was off to the races, but what was I going to do with my son? It was suggested that I leave him with a “babysitter” for a few hours. He’d be fine and I could get him at anytime. Fast forward a few hours. I rented my car out for more crack. It wasn’t returned. I had no idea where I was or how to get back to my son.
I later found out someone took him to a convenience store and left him there, crying in the aisle. I was found a week later. I’d been on one hell of a run. I was arrested in a prostitution sting. My husband filed for divorce. It was time to get help. I went through treatment. Afterwards, I could only have supervised visitation with my son. I did this for two years and I worked through my case with Family and Child Services. Finally, I was granted joint custody! I stayed sober for over two years.
During this time, I met a man at a local AA meeting. He was a recent drug court graduate and had four years sober. He made me feel safe and soon we were dating. Within weeks, we moved in together. I had a fairly successful eBay business and was able to cover my child support. Everything was going great. Until my new boyfriend’s parents passed away. He brought back his father’s “leftover” morphine. I’d always had back problems. I thought “what the heck?” and did some. Needless to say, by the end of the day we were doing coke and drinking wine. I didn’t consider it a full blown relapse since I didn’t smoke crack.
A couple of weeks later, we moved to Palm Beach Gardens. Within a few months, we were both smoking crack. Between both of us, we were using about $1000 of crack a day. My son was with us some of time. We spent a lot of time in the bathroom. Soon afterwards, I had my first seizure. My boyfriend and I began to write bad checks to support our habit. After a friend overdosed in our bathroom, we were evicted. I decided to take my son and go to my father’s house in Orlando. I hadn’t slept in four days. I passed out at the wheel and flipped my car on I-95. By the GRACE OF GOD, my son and I weren’t hurt. My Blazer though? It was totaled.
I took my son back to his father. It was years before I saw him again. My boyfriend and I were now officially on the run. the police were looking for us, so we started living our of our van, using all day and night. My boyfriend eventually got caught. I went back to Georgia and checked myself into treatment. It was there I found out I had a warrant out as well. I served my time, paid my restitution, and did my probation. While in treatment, I met my second husband at an AA meeting. I moved in with him immediately after getting out of treatment. After I got out of jail, we married.
We relapsed together shortly thereafter. This was an EXTREMELY abusive marriage. The police were called often, but I always refused to press charges. I even wrote the judge to get my husband OUT of jail. I felt like I deserved the abuse. During this time in my active addiction, I was brutally beaten, gang-raped, and pimped-out by my husband. I began to injury myself during seizures. One time, I had to have seventeen staples put into the back of my head. I’d almost died after smoking crack, passing out, hitting my head on the sink, and loosing over a pint of blood. Another time, I had my feet covered in paint-thinner and set on fire. I ended up with third-degree burns. I was wheelchair bound for three months.
Around this time, I began to be prescribed oxycodone for all my injuries. I quickly became addicted. Somehow, I found a little bit of sense and divorced my husband. I was on the streets again. I was soon sick and tired of being sick and tired. I entered treatment again. I stayed there for six months. After getting out, I briefly reunited with my second husband. I ended up pregnant. Almost seven months into my pregnancy, I relapsed again with my second husband. This time, he beat me so badly that, after being released from the hospital, I was put into a Safe Woman’s Treatment Center. He broke my jaw and I wasn’t able to eat for a month. I stayed at this treatment center until I was about to give birth. At this point, my second husband was in jail. I was safe to give birth.
My second precious angel was born healthy and right on time. However, at my six week check up, I found out I had endometriosis and PID. I had to have a complete and immediate Hysterectomy.
Afterwards, I began to feel strong again. I went back to school, for the third time, and got my counseling certification as a Certified Peer Support Specialist. I got a job at one of the treatment centers that I’d been a patient at so many times.
My wonderful boyfriend and I got married. He was so nice AND had no history of alcohol or drug abuse. I’d really picked a winner, finally. One day, I had a dentist appointment. Did I tell them I was an addict? Nope. They prescribed codeine syrup and I drank the entire bottle in one evening. By four AM, I was out on the street looking for crack. Some random man was driving my car. I had a small seizure. Then he stole my car! I ran into a gas station to get some beer and the guy drove off with my car, my phone, and MY DOG! The next morning, I entered my final treatment center. That was October 6th, 2009. In treatment, I found out I had Hepatitis C. I was, once again, told I needed long-term treatment for my addiction and alcoholism.
(No, I never found my dog. The police did find the car a few months later though.)
The Blessing of Recovery
My husband and I found a wonderful addiction specialist in upstate NY. My husband found a new job. Unfortunately, at this point, my little boy’s father had more clean time than I did. My parents had temporary guardianship of my son due to my relapses. I wouldn’t be allowed to take him with me. This was exactly why I hadn’t agreed to go to long-term treatment before. I didn’t want to leave my baby. My husband assured me that I’d be able to fly home and see my son one a month. That seemed fair to me, so off to upstate I went.
After my initial thirty day treatment ended, my husband moved up to NY. I continued with therapy. I’d suffered a lot of memory loss from my seizures and head injuries. I had PTSD. I went through intensive therapy for three years. During this time, I began to receive treatment for my Hepatitis. I had blood tests every six months. The virus hasn’t come back!
Today, I live back in Georgia. My husband and I live within five miles of my youngest son. He’s now five years old. I still have joint custody, but I pray that one day this will change. I’m working on strengthening my relationship with my oldest son. He just turned sixteen.
I run the Facebook page Sisters of Serenity and Sobriety. I believe I’ve been given a second chance at life. It’s my mission to help other women recovery from this horrible disease. Stop by and say hello!