by Fiona Stockard | Sep 29, 2014 | Drug Addiction
Written By: Fiona Stockard
Firsthand Addiction: What’s Jail Really Like?
Jail sucks. Everyone knows that. I mean, if I asked a roomful of people if they wanted to go to jail, would anyone raise their hand? Hell no!
Unfortunately, jail’s a part of life for addicts. If I wasn’t doing illegal stuff, I wouldn’t have been able to support my expensive as f**k drug habit. Now, I don’t want to put words in anyone’s mouth, but the same can be said for most addicts. Plus, we’re usually good at plotting and scheming.
What’s jail really like though? Is it as bad as TV shows make it out to be? Are people getting shanked left and right? Let’s find out!
My Experiences With Jail
I’ve been to jail three times and (surprise) none were fun. They didn’t completely suck either though.
I was arrested when I was fifteen for shoplifting. I don’t know why the cop didn’t let me go with a warning. I mean, come on, I was fifteen! Oh wait, probably ‘cause he found the drugs in my pocket. It was just weed though! Whatever, the point is I was shipped to a juvenile detention facility until I could go to court.
I was there for one day and one night. I didn’t get shanked. I didn’t get beaten up. I didn’t get made some woman’s b***h. It wasn’t that bad, actually. There were some thug-life girls who kept eyeballing me, but I just ignored them.
There were also a few really nice older girls. They’d been in juvie before and knew the deal. They told me what to expect in court – how I should throw myself on the judge’s mercy and say I’d never get high or steal again. Guess what? I did just that and it worked! I was released with no juvenile probation, only fines.
I wasn’t as lucky the next two times I was arrested. Both times were for possession of heroin and I was pretty dope sick in jail. I was locked up for a few days the second time and a little over two months the third time. I was over eighteen too, so I got thrown in big-girl jail. No more easy juvie for me. Dammit!
Still, I didn’t get beat up, or shanked, or made anyone’s b***h. The worst parts were being dope sick, not being able to smoke, and the crappy food. It’s not like I had an appetite anyway though!
Once again, an older woman came to my rescue. She was a longtime junkie and knew what I was going through. She gave me some of her meds (non-narcotic, of course). They helped a little bit.
The second time I was arrested, I was released with probation. The third time I wasn’t as lucky. I spent two months in jail, was mandated to drug court, and had my probation extended. You’d think that would get me sober, right? Nope. It just made me pretty good at hiding my drug use.
So, maybe getting shanked and all that bad stuff only happens in prison. Luckily, I wasn’t sent there, so I don’t know. Maybe it’s all made up to sell TV shows and movies. Again, I don’t know. I do know that I haven’t been back to jail in over six years. Normal people might think that’s, well, normal. Me though? I’m pretty f**king proud of myself!
by A Women in Sobriety | Sep 10, 2014 | Drug Addiction
This article originally appeared on Addiction Blog
How Addiction Really Affects The Family
We all know the scare stories about how addicts hurt their families. We’ve heard about the crying parents, the terrified siblings, and the confused aunts and uncles.
We’ve probably experienced them too! I know I took my family to hell and back during active addiction. Will I ever really know what they went through though? I decided to interview my family and find out.
My Parents
Sobriety for Women: So, how’d you do it? I probably scared you both to death for years.
Mom: You did, but that’s part of being a parent too. I’m not trying to take you off the hook by any means, but having kids is a terrifying experience to begin with. It doesn’t help if your daughter is abusing drugs, but even if you didn’t cause one problem, I’d still find something to worry about.
Dad: I saw things a little differently. Your mom is absolutely right, being a parent is an exercise in terror. Seeing your kid take drugs and become a drug addict though, that was rough. It was hard being powerless. I didn’t think that I was powerless for a long time either. I thought that if I were just harder on you, you’d clean up. It took some time to get rid of that way of thinking.
S4W: What was it like seeing me in active addiction?
Mom: It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to deal with, maybe the hardest. Your father talked about being powerless to change your behavior and he’s right. Seeing you hurt yourself over and over and not being able to do anything? That was horrible. It was also hard to understand that you were sick. I think addiction causes a lot of anger. I was angry with you for a long time. I’d stay up late, asking myself “why can’t she just stop? Doesn’t she see how much she’s hurting us and herself?”
Dad: Anger was huge for me, too. I couldn’t understand why you kept using drugs. It was easier to be angry than to confront the fact that my daughter might die. That’s something that no parent wants to consider. Seeing you in your addiction was hard too, because I blamed myself for a long time. I thought that your shortcomings were because I hadn’t raised you right. There was a lot of “I should have” and “why didn’t I?” happening.
S4W: So, again, how’d you do it? How’d you cope?
Mom: A lot of praying! I’m not sure, truthfully. It was hard. We have good friends and they helped a lot. None of them had children who dealt with drug addiction though. Your father and I went to a support group for a year or so. It was offered through one of the outpatient centers you went to. That was a lifesaver. Being able to vent about everything that was going on with you, as well as the issues your father and I were having, was priceless. Even better, the other families would talk to us after. They would let us know that they’d been where we were and things got better. It gave me a lot of hope.
Dad: Yeah, the support group helped a lot. One of the things parents of addicts don’t hear about a lot, and something I want them to know, is that your marriage may suffer. It happened to us. We were so wrapped up in trying to help you, that we ignored each other and, after awhile, we became angry with each other. I think we blamed each other for your issues. So, having somewhere to go and find out that we weren’t to blame, that was important.
My Siblings
I asked my brother some similar questions. He’s two years younger than I am.
S4W:What was my addiction like for you?
Little Bro: It was hard. I was pretty pissed at you while you were using and for a long time afterwards, too. We had some of the same friends and hung out with similar people, so I didn’t get why they were fine and you were a mess. It was hard too because I thought I always had to stand up for you. Even though you were older, it felt kind of like I was protecting you. So, that was pretty stressful.
S4W: I bet! I know we didn’t talk at all towards the end of my addiction. What was going through your head then?
Little Bro: I mean, like I said, I was just really pissed at you. I felt like you’d worn down mom and dad. You made them angry and scared all the time. That seemed really unfair to me. Plus, you kept messing up and they were always there to bail you out. It seemed like no matter how much you f**ked up, they’d take care of you and ignore me. Not ignore, but you know what I mean. Like, it seemed that they took for granted that I was always going to be okay, and you never were.
S4W:So, how’d you get over it? How’d you forgive me?
Little Bro:You just earned it. I didn’t forgive you the day you went to rehab, or for like a year afterwards, but down the line I did. You showed you were different. You showed you were a new person and a new sister. I think you reaching out to me helped a lot, too. You wouldn’t let me stay pissed at you!
by Sally Rosa | Sep 8, 2014 | Sobriety For Women
Laura’s Story
In 2010, my husband of over six years filed for divorce. He took my name off of our bank accounts, so I couldn’t get money to hire a lawyer.
In court, the judge gave me a continuance to seek council. On the courthouse steps, my ex-husband’s lawyer gave me papers to sign. They were to give my ex-husband temporary custody of our house and children. I didn’t know I could object to these terms.
It was the beginning of the end. I found my children and myself homeless. I began to drink and take Xanax to cope with the stress.
Things Went From Bad to Worse
The following year, in 2011, I lost custody of my children. They were one, two, three, five, and twelve. I’d been a stay at home mother during my marriage. However, the judge ruled my ex-husband was more mentally and financially stable and gave him full custody of our children. I’d been diagnosed Bipolar after the birth of our second child.
I couldn’t accept that I only had visitation rights to my children. The judge gave my ex-husband full custody! I had no rights, only visitation. I was devastated.
A year after my ex and I divorced, he married a much younger woman. They married and moved to Georgia a month later. They moved with my children! My ex-husband gave me three days notice before they left. I scrambled to set up an emergency hearing, but they were gone before anything could be done. My children were enrolled in a Georgia school and no judge was going to take them out of school.
That’s when things really got bad. I couldn’t function any longer. I started drinking from the minute I woke up to the second I passed out. I started smoking pot, taking pills, partying every night, and sleeping with all kinds of men. I started doing whatever I could to not feel. My children were my whole world and without them I had no reason to live.
I couldn’t just pick up and move to Georgia with my children. I’m disabled and receive only $800 a month of support. I was literally out of my mind with grief. I was able to arrange for my children to visit me at Christmas. Watching them leave was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
Not long after, I received a public intoxication and DUI change. This didn’t help me one bit in court. My lawyer gave up on me. I ended up receiving supervised visitation rights and was ordered to pay my ex-husband $500 a month in child support. For five children, you’re not supposed to pay more than 26% of your income. I was ordered to pay 500 out of 800 dollars!
A Light at Last
I checked myself into treatment in July of 2013. It wasn’t an easy journey. I relapsed the day I got out. I found out that it’s easy to stay sober when you’re in a safe environment. It isn’t so easy when you’re in the real world.
On August 24th, 2013, I went back to residential treatment. This time, I followed residential with an outpatient program. I’ve been sober a year and am fighting to get my children back
I haven’t seen my kids in over a year. As of May 2014, my ex-husband has stopped answering my calls. He won’t let me speak to my children anymore because I can’t pay the full $500 child support payment.
Being sober isn’t easy because it means I have to FEEL the grief and anguish from missing my babies. I know that being sober is the only way I’ll get my children back. This gives me the strength to keep on, one day at a time.
If you’d like more information about Laura and her story, visit her website.
by Fiona Stockard | Sep 5, 2014 | 12 Steps
Written By: Fiona Stockard
The Big Book Broken Down – Part Four
Alcoholics Anonymous is a fellowship of men and women who help each other to recover from alcohol and drug addiction. It was founded in June of 1935, just celebrated its seventy-ninth anniversary, and boasts over two million members.
AA’s central text is the Big Book. With a sponsor and a Big Book, AA members work the twelve steps, and “recover from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body” (title page).
Today, I’ll be breaking down chapter four, We Agnostics.
We Agnostics
This chapter is all about how to build a relationship with God – with a God of our own understanding! Before we even consider God though, we need to be convinced we need God.
We Agnostics lays out some problems we experience as a result of active alcoholism. It states, “We were having trouble with personal relationships, we couldn’t control our emotional natures, we were a prey to misery and depression, we couldn’t make a living, we had a feeling of uselessness, we were full of fear, we were unhappy, we couldn’t seem to be of real help to other people…” (52).
S**t! That described me perfectly. In other words, I was a mess who couldn’t live life! My friends (my REAL friends) and family weren’t shy about telling me the help a Higher Power could offer.
Guess what? This chapter addresses that, too! “…how frequently did we all say, ‘I wish I had what that man has. I’m sure it would work if I could only believe as he believes. But I cannot accept as surely true the many articles of faith which are so plain to him’” (47).
Did the Big Book read my mind? Aside from using male pronouns, that passage sums up all the issues I had with God. Another frequent issue people have with spirituality is that they confuse it with religion. “To others, the word ‘God’ brought up a particular idea of Him with which someone had tried to impress them during childhood” (45).
I certainly relate to that. Everyone has memories of religion being pushed on them as a child. The chapter goes on to say, “Do not let any prejudice you may have against spiritual terms deter you from honestly asking yourself what they mean to you” (47).
Okay, so I need to let go of my judgment and intolerance. That’s much easier said than done. Once again, AA seemed to read my mind. This chapter reads, “To be doomed to an alcoholic death or to live on a spiritual basis are not always easy alternatives to face” (44).
Addicts and alcoholics are the only people I know who weigh that choice! Who else says to themselves, “now, what exactly do you mean by alcoholic death? How bad is it, really?” I’ve been guilty of asking that question once or twice!
So, how do I let go of intolerance and grow? The only way I know is through experiencing enough pain! I’m a bit hardheaded like that! We Agnostics has an answer for people like me, “Faced with alcoholic destruction, we soon became as open minded on spiritual matters as we had tried to be on other questions. In this respect alcohol was a great persuader. It finally beat us into a state of reasonableness” (48).
Hmmm. Sounds true to me! I had to get beaten up pretty badly before I was willing to consider God as an answer. Luckily, when I was ready to consider God, AA made things very simple. I was told “We needed to ask ourselves but one short question. ‘Do I now believe, or am I even willing to believe, that there is a Power greater than myself?’” (47).
That seemed fair to me. I was willing to believe that maybe, just maybe, spirituality could help me. I wasn’t willing to believe in some all-mighty white guy in the clouds though! Once again, We Agnostics has me covered. “Much to our relief, we discovered we did not need to consider another’s conception of God. Our own conception, however inadequate, was sufficient to make the approach and to effect a contact…” (46).
Wait a minute, you mean not only can I believe in a God of my own understanding, but it doesn’t matter how crummy that understanding is? Sign me up! Now, it was made clear very early on that I couldn’t make a doorknob or a light bulb my Higher Power. That wasn’t going to work. After all, a doorknob isn’t going to keep me sober! I didn’t have to believe in anyone else’s idea of God though. I was free to meet God on my own terms.
I started working my butt off and doing the twelve-steps. Guess what I found? Well, I found a ton of stuff, but most mind-blowing was the idea that I’d actually had faith all along. Seems hard to believe, I know.
This chapter states, “Without knowing it, had we not been brought to where we stood by a certain kind of faith?” (53). My faith in AA, and my sponsor, brought me to the point where I had faith in a Higher Power. Mind = blown!
We Agnostics goes on to state, “Had we not variously worshipped people, sentiment, things, money, and ourselves?” and “In one form or another we had been living by faith and little else” (54).
You mean all along I’d had faith? I believed drugs and alcohol would solve my problems (and they did, until they stopped working!). I believed people would solve my problems (and they did, until they stopped bailing me out!). I believed AA would solve my problems. It did and it hasn’t stopped working.
Huh, I guess I really did have faith all along!
