by Fiona Stockard | May 10, 2013 | Addiction Treatment, Benefits of Sobriety
Fun in Sobriety?
The first time I tried to get sober I was 19. This was December, 2006. I’d dropped out of college after the first semester of my sophomore year. I thought I was like every other nineteen year old girl. Turns out, most nineteen year olds can go to class sober. Turns out most nineteen year olds don’t black out every night.
My parents realized long before I did how unmanageable my life was. They sent me to rehab and that’s where I perfected the art of telling people what they wanted to hear, of sliding under the radar. I wanted to have the willingness to get sober, but the truth is, I just didn’t. See, getting sober wasn’t worth it to me. I thought you couldn’t have fun in sobriety. I wouldn’t get sober for another five and a half years.
During this time, I didn’t much fun at all. I laughed sometimes, but always at the expense of someone else. I laughed because making fun of someone else made me feel better about myself. I gossiped because it made me feel better about myself.
Fake Fun in Fake Sobriety
I had periods of abstinence during those five plus years, but never actually worked a program. I couldn’t imagine a life without drugs or alcohol, let alone being able to have fun sober.
The truth is, during those periods of abstinence, I still had all my old behaviors. I lied, cheated, stole, and manipulated. I just didn’t use substances. I felt even worse during this time, if that makes sense. I didn’t have drugs to cover my feelings. I was a raw nerve and living a miserable existence. I remember doing activities that should have been fun. I even thought I was having fun sometimes. Really, I was just trying to fake it ’till I made it.
I thought if I didn’t change my attitude, or behaviors, but laughed when other people did, it might rub off on me. That didn’t happen. After awhile, I didn’t think sober people could have fun at all. I thought everyone else was doing what I was, faking a happy life. So, I went on one hell of a run. I used for a year and a half. During this time, some very close to me passed away. It was only then that I began to realize my crippling addiction. It was only then I began to realize I didn’t want to live this way anymore.
Real Fun in Real Sobriety
My sobriety date is January 17, 2011. I got sober on my 24th birthday. I’d love to say that I did the right thing from the start, that I finally had willingness, but I didn’t. I had to experience more pain, this time while in treatment, to become willing.
I was in an intensive inpatient treatment center for seven months. After about six months, I found what would become, and still is, my home group. I remember going to this meeting and seeing so many young people smiling, so many young people having fun. The crazy part was they were sober! You mean I can have fun in sobriety? This was a new idea for me. I saw clients returning from pass with sober-supports. They were happy and looked like they were having fun. This boggled my mind. I asked myself hundreds of times “are they really having fun in sobriety?”
I realized these people were only happy because they’d worked through the twelve-steps and found a new way of life. I decided I wanted what they had. I got a sponsor who began to take me through the steps. Eventually, I did a fifth step and learned my life had been driven by self-centered fear. I started going out with people after meetings. I slowly began to have fun in sobriety.
Still, I wasn’t 100% sure what people actually did for fun in sobriety. I soon learned, you do the same thing normal people do! You go out to dinner, to movies, to concerts, to friends’ houses. To this day, some of the best moments I’ve had have been sitting at a friend’s apartment, just talking and laughing.
I remember being in a friend’s car one day. We were joking around, laughing, and generally having a good time. He looked at me and said “If I knew sobriety was this fun, I’d have gotten sober a long time ago!” I couldn’t agree more. I thank God everyday for finding me a home in Alcoholics Anonymous. I think God everyday for the simple fact that I can be happy. I thank God everyday for being able to have fun in sobriety.
by A Women in Sobriety | May 2, 2013 | Addiction Treatment, Sobriety For Women
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!
Sisters of Sobriety and Serenity
by A Women in Sobriety | Dec 21, 2012 | Addiction Treatment, Sobriety For Women
One Woman’s Story of Taking Suggestions
As a scared eighteen year old girl entering treatment for alcoholism and an eating disorder, I had no idea what to expect. I had no idea what to expect from treatment. I had no idea what to expect from my life. I had no idea what to expect in so many ways!
I tried to convince myself I only needed help for “debilitating anxiety.” I had no plan to stay sober from any of my addictions. I was looking for a temporary break, a bit of peace and quiet. After staying in a hospital and slowly putting together a few days, I took my first suggestion. I came to an extended care treatment center in Florida.
Extended Care in Florida
I’d call my parents everyday, anxious to tell them how well I was doing. Of course, I was lying, I just wanted to get out! I sat in groups, saw doctors, and had individual therapy. I smoked cigarettes with my roommates and talked s**t.
I liked going to outside meetings and getting a glimpse of the real world the most. I couldn’t wait to have what everyone on the outside had. I didn’t want someone checking on me every half-hour. I didn’t want someone verifying if I could go to Starbucks. I didn’t want someone telling me I couldn’t use the phone.
Most of my peers from treatment moved out and roomed together. Some went to “three-quarter houses,” which were loosely organized and should have been called crack houses! I wanted that freedom. I wanted a car. I wanted no curfew. I debated going back to college. I wanted to join a sorority, drink in moderation, and get my life back. I wanted what I wanted when I wanted it.
Today, most of my peers from treatment aren’t sober. Two are dead. Of the fifty confused, young women I was in treatment with, only myself and one other are still sober.
Today, I thank God I got what I needed, NOT what I wanted.
What the Hell is a Halfway House Anyway?
That one other girl who’s still sober, well, her and I chose to go to halfway houses after treatment. When my treatment center suggested a halfway house, I reaction was dismal at best. I didn’t even know what a halfway house was!
One of my childhood friends lived next door to a halfway house. She always told me not to make eye contact with the residents and to go inside when they were smoking. I asked her why and she responded, “they’re all crazy people who do crack all day and have mental diseases.” So, when my treatment center suggested I go to a halfway, I wasn’t sure I wanted any part of it.
I finally learned what a halfway house really was. I was still skeptical. Bed-checks? Curfews? Been there, done that. I was pretty fed up with people running my life.
Taking Suggestions Saved My Life!
Today, I look at going to a halfway house as the best decisions I ever made. Sure, I didn’t want authority, but I was willing to try it out for a few months.
My thinking went something like this, “sure, authority sucks. What other option do I have though? If I start using again, I’ll probably die. Even if I don’t, I’ll be separated from my family and everyone else…”
Sharing a house with six women and sleeping in a twin-bed was never my idea of luxury. The feeling of belonging, hope, and happiness I experienced was better than anything else I’d ever felt. See, through living in a halfway house, I was introduced to Alcoholics Anonymous. I was introduced to young women in recovery. I was introduced to a new life.
Women with time took me to AA meetings my treatment center didn’t go to. I loved these meetings! There were women I could relate to. There were women talking about the Big Book and “recovering from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body.” There were women talking about sponsorship and the twelve-steps.
Above all, my halfway house kept me accountable. I met my sponsor at a meeting the halfway house brought in. My halfway house manger consistently asked me where I was with my step work. When I wasn’t doing it, she pushed me to. I finished the twelve-steps. I felt, for the first time in my life, a real difference. I didn’t want to go home and try to drink in moderation. I wasn’t obsessed with getting high. I was taught how to live my life!
I started working part-time and taking college classes. I had the love and support of other girls doing the same thing. Sure, there were times I wanted to drink. If I hadn’t been in a halfway house, if I was in my own apartment, the chances are high that I would have. To put it another way, I never lacked a shoulder to lean on. Anytime I needed to vent (which, in early sobriety, was always!), there was someone there.
A Sober Woman
My experience in a halfway house allowed me to get reacquainted with life and all the responsibilities it entails.
Today, I have a full life. I’m a college graduate. I’m a sponsor. I’m still sober. These are high milestones for an addict and alcoholic!
I frequently remember my time in the halfway house with a bittersweet smile. I remember the ups and downs, the times I wanted to leave. I remember the end of my commitment, when I was actually ready to leave. I don’t have any regrets.
The women from my halfway house shaped me from a scared nineteen year old girl, to a mature and sober woman. Today, I can accept life’s hardships. Today, life is good, but only because I did the necessary work!
by A Women in Sobriety | Dec 21, 2012 | Addiction Treatment, Recovery
Written By: Fiona Stockard
Fake It ‘Till You Make It
“Fake it ’till you make it” is one of the many slogans I heard early on in AA. I thought most of the slogans were stupid, but this one, I could never really wrap my head around it.
Fake…what, ’till I make…what? Fake my smile? Fake my laugh? Fake my sobriety?
Now that’s an interesting take on a commonly used slogan! I began to fake my sobriety, I began to wear a mask.
Fake Sobriety
I was told early on that action precedes thought. That if I take an action, my thoughts would change too.
So, I took the first action and many more after that. I went to meetings. I raised my hand to speak. I shared my experience, strength, and hope (I know now I was only sharing my craziness!). I talked to new girls. I really did “act as if.”
I got high on some weekends, plain and simple. I didn’t use every weekend. By this point, most of my friends were sober. The guy I was dating was sober. I couldn’t afford to use every weekend, but now-and-again, I’d sneak off and get loaded.
I prayed. I wasn’t honest with myself though, so there was no way I was honest with God.
I became the queen of recovery! Everyone thought I was doing so well. Hell, that’s all that matters anyway, right? My parents were off my back. My legal issues had all been resolved. I had a “great” life. I literally faked it and made it. I found the loophole!
Well, as soon as I thought I found that loophole, I started to get sloppy. I couldn’t control my hidden use anymore. It wasn’t every third weekend anymore. It was everyday. The mental, emotional, and spiritual torture was too much. I stopped going out. I stayed home, hiding from friends. I watched the entire series of LOST (which I still don’t get!) and it was a pretty great metaphor for my life. I was lost!
I basically lost everything all over again, except for my job. I couldn’t lose my job, it was the only way I was supporting my expensive as hell drug habit. To put it another way, I let the s**t hit the fan. Finally, I reached out for help.
Let’s be honest here. I didn’t reach out for help, I was caught. My boyfriend finally noticed that when I went out, I came home with tiny pupils. He found the bottle of gin under my bed (yeah, I still wonder what he was doing under there too). I came clean. I let it all out. I admitted I had been faking it, I was never truly sober.
Here’s the deal, I wanted to be sober. When I was high, I messed everything up. I spent a ton of money. I became a lone wolf. The people that loved me got hurt. Those things all suck. BUT, did I want to be sober because I couldn’t imagine never drinking another beer? Because I couldn’t imagine snorting another pill? At this point, nope.
Real Sobriety!
I finally got a sponsor and came clean about what was going on in my life. I still fight this battle everyday though. I have 100% faith that AA works. I’ve seen it work in hundreds of people. I’ve seen the change and growth occur in my friends and even some family members.
Still, I’m “faking it ’till I make it.” This time though, I’m being honest. I’m staying sober in spit of myself. I know the truth, my best thinking isn’t the best at all.
I have no idea what’s going to happen. I have no idea if all of a sudden a lightbulb will go off and I’ll truly have made it. Maybe I’ll always be faking it. I just know that today my life is good. I smile. For the first time in my life, I’m honest. That’s all I have and for today, that’s more than enough!
