I finished college. I got a job with the State, I got married, the house with the picket fence, 2 kids, a dog, and and a drug problem. The only way I was able to stay off the meth and cocaine and other “Hard” drugs was to be pregnant; this, of course, means that in the beginning of both of my pregnancies, I was using and that’s something that is hard to talk about. It is what it is, though, and this is my story. I decided I would be as honest as I can, and as I am an addict, there will be things – lots of them – that I am not proud of.
When my children were young I remember life being fairly stable. Eventually, though, I began to invite people, places and things back into my life that led right back to “Old Behavior.”
I think it is important to note that I have stated that “I Invited” the chaos back into my life. Drugs didn’t walk in off the street, nothing forced itself up my nose, into a pipe and somehow smoked by me without my consent, and the people I associated with were people I chose to associate with.
I made a concious decision to use. I made a concious decision to hang aroud with people that I should not have had my children around (Although, my children were playing with their children.) I used at work, I used at home, I used constantly.
And, for many years, I was able to pull that off with consequences that were visible only to ME. Looking in from the outside, I gave the appearance of really having my shit together. I had all the “Stuff,” Cars, house, Harley, even the Picket Fence. I had the good job. I had a nice little family with well behaved children.
Everything seemed to be going fine. I thought I was pretty invincible, until one day in 1994 when I got a call from my boss who asked me to drive over to the other campus, so I did.
She asked to pee in a cup. After eleven years at the same job, someone finally turned me in. I hadn’t used in about 3 days at that time, so I thought everything was going to be fine – things were not fine.
The results of the test came back and I somehow tested positive for almost everything that they tested for. I tested positive for drugs I don’t remember using. I denied, I lied, I acted insulted…
But the tests don’t lie. I was given an ultimatum; go to a 28 day program, or be terminated. I didn’t want to lose my job. A friend knew about a rehab in the SF Bay Area I could go to, so I went there, signed up, paid the money, and was given a date to show up.
That day, I packed a trunk full of stuff, cried all day, and smoked a lot of weed. I left in the evening and went accross the bay to the rehab place, and knocked on the door. I was greeted, and told that I was not going to be allowed to stay once I got into the office. I asked why, and the guy (A counselor, I suppose,) said “You used today” and handed me my check back. I begged him to let me stay, but it wasn’t going to happen.
So, the “Functional Addict” was only functional for a while.
There is no such thing as a “Functional Addict,” because sooner or later addiction will catch up to you. Sooner or later, your meth use will show on your face, in your behavior, in your eyes.
People aren’t as dumb as we think they are when Methamphetamine gives us that feeling that we are invincible. What we are, in fact, is delusional to a greater or lesser degree. It’s just a matter of time before our covers get pulled.