Amikolle

I was poking around teh intarweb this afternoon and found this site, all about drug addiction and the chemical effects, the disease model, and current theories about treatment.  I spent about 2 hours reading all the articles, and it left me feeling a little drained and not a little grumpy.

The disease model of addiction is recognized by most major health organizations, but it remains extremely controversial.  The disease model is summarized in wikipedia, AlcoholandDrugTreatment.net, and in a PBS Frontline article.  Personally, I subscribe to the belief that addiction is a disease which can be treated and kept in “remission” as long as certain behaviors are modified and a support network is developed.  One of the defining attributes of addiction is the physical and psychological obsession and compulsion to use.  From personal experience, I know that nothing, nothing, could stop me when I was in the grip of the drugs.  I believe that what is helping me to stay clean is the fact that I have been undergoing psychiatric counseling, and take my prescribed meds, I attend NA meetings daily, and I reach out to other addicts for support.  To me, this sounds very similar to someone with severe diabetes who seeks medical attention, takes required meds, and seeks help from others with diabetes for help with diet and lifestyle modification.

But what do I know.

So this weekend I went to Ocean City, MD with Badr, Bear, and my parents.  We  (Badr, Bear, and I) got down around 8:30 pm on Friday night, greeted my parents, and proceeded immediately to the beach.  We had a great time in the water (I love the beach at night), splashing and being chased by the surf.  Bear eventually got completely soaked, and he and Badr attempted to coak me into the water, clothes and all.  It didn’t work, but I got pretty wet anyway.  Around 10 pm, we went upstairs, took showers and went to bed, tired but happy.

The next morning Bear and I awoke around 6:30 am and took a walk on the beach by ourselves.  It was a great time, just walking and talking and collecting seashells.  We rinsed our feet, went upstairs, woke Badr, and had breakfast.  I lathered Bear up with sunscreen, and Badr and I took him down to the beach.  I was planning on going to a noon NA meeting, and told this to my parents, so after a splash in the water, and Bear being buried in the sand, we all trooped back up to the condo.  Badr and I headed out to the meeting, and my parents took Bear back to the beach.

We had a nice drive over to West Ocean City, where the meeting was located.  Unfortunately for us, the meeting had been cancelled/moved to 8 pm at night.  So we sighed, and made plans to come back that evening.  We returned to the beach, and played with Bear in the water most of the afternoon.  I managed to lay out enough that I got a little sunburned on my back, but it’ll fade to tan soon enough.  My parents got up to go to church, and we stayed a little longer.  Badr was helping Bear get the hang of his boogie board, which was adorable to watch.  We finally dragged ourselves back up to the condo, showered, and went with my parents across the street to get pizza.

This is where everything went bad.

Badr and I told my parents that we had to leave at 7:30 to get to the 8 pm meeting on time, and my mother started rolling her eyes and muttering about how I “could miss one meeting” and how I was “not spending time with Bear while I had the chance.”  This from the “90 in 90″ woman.  Then she said that Isaac was looking “so sad”, and she acted all confused that I wasn’t spending the entire July 4th week at the beach.  My parents are taking Bear down the ocean fo the week, and Badr and I were going to head down Thursday night.  This was already discussed and settled.  She just kept shaking her head, and making this big deal, and eventually Isaac picked up on it, and asked if he could go to the meeting.

Sigh.  I told him no, that it was a boring grown-up meeting, and that we were coming back to take him to mini-golf.  After some very minor fussing, he calmed down, no thanks to my mom, who just kept muttering things and shaking her head.  So Badr and I left, and went to the meeting.  Guess what?  There were a bunch of people from Westside who were down on a spiritual retreat, so I knew a bunch of people in the room.  I shared some of my frustrations, and immediately felt better.  Several people came up to me after the meeting, and said some very insightful and helpful things.

So we headed back, and on the way back, Badr and I had a conversation about how what my mother had done was completely inappropriate, and that I should talk to her.  When I got back to the condo, I pulled my mother aside, and tried to have a rational conversation with her about my feelings and concerns.  She proceeded to turn it into “I’m not the one that left him, you are” and “it’s not all about you” and “ever since you met Badr, you have…”

Grrr…

So I left, and Bear, Badr and I played mini-golf, whyich was really fun.  It was pretty late when we got back to the condo, so it was straight to bed for Bear.  Badr and I sat out on the deck of the condo for a while, talking about what had happened earlier.

(more about the weekend to come later)

I am coming to the conclusion that for my parents and I to have a realtively normal relationship, I am not the only one that needs to change.  I can change all I want, and if they don’t, they will still have the same skewed perspective on my, my actions, and my decisions that they have always had.  That is so incredibly frustrating for me.  It really hurts.  I know my parents love me, and I’m glad that they are still around and physically healthy, I just with they would consider the possibility that not everything is my fault, all the time.  They play a role in my actions and reactions.  I guess I just need to give them time, lots of time.

…where I have been for the past 2 weeks, here’s the story.

It all begins about 2.5 weeks ago, when I snuck out of my parent’s house (where I had been staying because of the second relapse I had), took a bus to Baltimore at 1 am, and relapsed for the third time.  I didn’t have any money,except the change I took from my father’s drawer for the bus, so when I got down there I fed off other’s “kindness” for a bit, then resorted to selling for a guy I knew from a long time ago.  Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours, and suddenly it was 6 am and I knew I was in trouble.  My new cell phone started ringing, first with Badr, then my parents.  Of course I didn’t pick up.  I was feeling ashamed, guilty and very sad, because I knew I had once again disappointed my family and Badr, but that didn’t stop me from continuing to stay where I was, and do what I was doing.

What I didn’t know is that my cell phone, one of those kid phones with limited access to calls, included a GPS feature.

So my father and Badr were searching the streets for me all morning, and they knew pretty much where I was.  In fact, they came to the house in which I was mid-morning, and the girl that lived there told them I was not there, at my request.  They returned later, and after bribing the girl with $50, and being reasonably certain that I was in that particular house, Badr kicked the door in, and my father came up the stairs.  I had been hiding under a pile of filthy blankets and rugs in a corner of the bedroom, and my father started pulling them off from me, and just said that we were leaving.

I was crying, dirty, and still a little high when I came down the rickety steps, but Badr welcomed me with open arms.  We got into his car, and as we were driving to my parents’ house, he asked me what I wanted to do.

“I want to go to rehab.”

And go I did.  I spent 5 days in the psychiatric ward in Laurel Regional Hospital, where I got my meds all straightened out (a huge relief for me and everyone around me, because that was definitely a contributing factor to my relapses), and then went to Warwick Manor Behavioral Health, on the eastern Shore of MD.  I spent 7 days there, learning a variety of things about addiction as a disease, the scientific and medical aspects of what drugs and alcohol do to the brain, and how to keep my anxiety in check.  It was a wonderful experience, and I highly recommend anyone seeking treatment make that one of his or her options.  The staff and counselors were wonderful, the scenery is ideal, and the classes are packed with useful information.

Badr picked me up yesterday morning, and after a brief stop at my parents’ house, we spent the rest of the day together, and I even had a “moment”.  We were sitting in the car after returning from an NA meeting, and talking about our history as a couple, and it just ht me–how lucky I am to have Badr in my life, a man who respects me and loves me and treats me like a queen, how much I love him.  I cried like a baby, he wiped my tears, and I think we both felt uplifted.

I know I have a lot of hard work ahaead of me, but I feel ready and willing to move forward.  This is real, this feeling, and it is powerful.

Part of my problem has always been asking for help.

I am too good, so much better than, know too much, much too much and I talk myself right out of any kind of assistance I am offered.  So tonight was a good new development for me.  I actually picked up the phone and called one of the numbers I had been oh-so-studiously getting at NA meetings.

And guess what??  She was nice, and funny, and receptive, and didn’t mock me for my silly issues.  In fact, she shared with me that she had gone through similar things.  Who knew?  I just need to get over my ridiculous fear of others.  Lord knows that when I use, I end up all alone.  Quickly.

So I am giving myself a pat on the back for strapping one on and doing what I am supposed to do.