Consider this my 4th and 5th step.
Step 4: Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
Step 5: Admitted to God, to ourselves and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.
I haven't been doing them in order.
But it's due.
I finally figured out a way to do it.
Judge me all you want, but I'm going to talk to you about the darkness of my addiction.
This is raw.
This is deep.
This is my life.
A few pieces of it.
I can't make this shit up.
I can't remember the first time I did drugs.
I remember it was mary jane.
I cant remember the first time though and it drives me nuts.
Drugs, trauma, depression, etc. it does not help your memory process for sure.
Did you know that an addicts brain can take up to years to return to normal?
Crazy.
Anyways, I do remember one of the first times was with my dad.
My brother and I were on the back porch and we were having a party at our house.
Dad comes on the porch and says you guys wanna see something.
Goes in and comes back out with this little wood box.
A hitter and some weed that had been sitting in his drawer for god knows how long.
But who cares I was smoking with my dad.
It was the only time too.
I remember the pain pills were next.
I had a baby.
They gave me pain meds.
I liked how they made me feel.
I feel like the years are such blurs as I try to think right now.
Why can't I remember?
I remember fake weed. Fake bake. Synthetic marijuana. Spice. Whatever you want to call it.
That started when I lived in Des Moines.
One time we, and by we I mean myself and my ex-husband, went to surprise my mom and picked up my brother and sister.
We were smoking that shit, listening to music, cruising down the interstate.
Ass by Big Sean was playing and I remember that because to today I still can't listen to it anymore.
Out of the corner of my eye I thought I seen my sister dancing.
My brother yells from the back "something is wrong with Bella!" I look back and her legs are stuck under the passenger seat and she seizing.
I pull over, call 911, try to figure out where we were, covered her up, and put it on her side.
I remember the person on the other side of the phone helping me.
I thought I was going to lose my sister.
I remember when the ambulance came.
I also remember all the cars that sped past us. Not a single one stopped to help.
I remember when my mom called yelling at me.
They never told the hospital that she had smoked the fake bake.
My fault.
I did that to her.
Sadly, it was never enough to make me stop.
Fast forward to when my best friend died.
February 25, 2011.
I guess you could say I didn’t know how to deal with it.
My family moved out and my mom took my kids with them.
Spent the summer working and getting fucked up any chance I could.
I finally went back to my parents.
For a day and moved to Des Moines.
I did good while I lived there. Drug wise.
Eventually I came back home in 2012.
Meeyah was born in December.
Things weren't good between the hubby and I.
I remember working overnights like crazy and the adderall.
Oh I fell in love with it.
Pain pills, benzos, adderall, fake bake, and weed.
I got so wrapped up in him and I that I forgot about my kids being first.
Dcfs placed them elsewhere.
I should have stopped and got my shit together and just did what they wanted me to.
Instead I dove deeper.
They took the 3 things that meant the most to me.
I stayed where the drugs were.
I was broke.
Homeless.
I was in shitty relationships.
I ruined friendships.
I destroyed people.
I did things I deeply regret.
And if you're reading this, I'm so fucking sorry I hurt you like that.
And of course drugs were always apart of them.
I remember the time I framed a pharmacist.
Not by myself.
I went to pick up my script and the guy leaned over and whispered to me as he handed me my bag that he could get more of this.
When I got home I noticed he left his name and number on the receipt.
My boyfriend at the time flipped out.
Took my phone and told him if he didn’t give him what he wanted that he would report him to his job.
I remember meeting him. The big bag.
I felt horrible.
My boyfriend was across the street watching.
I remember going back home and pouring out the bag.
Holy fucking pills.
Never seen him again.
Fast forward.
I finally got clean for awhile once I moved in with my aunt.
I got my kids back that year.
Then I moved back to town.
And it slowly started back up.
I lived at my dads.
I should have known I had a problem when I stole my dad's oxycotin and then helped him look for it.
How fucking stupid was I?
But I could manage it all.
I was functioning.
I wasn’t doing it as often.
Those are just a few of the things addicts tell themselves.
It was only weed though.
Then adderall again every now and then.
Nothing like I did in the past.
Just wanted to have fun every once in awhile.
Girl meets boy they fall in love and have a baby together.
Life is good right?
No. life happened.
A lot of life happened and slowly I'll get into all of that, but at another time.
I couldn’t manage.
I got super depressed and worked myself to death just to keep busy.
Weed and caffeine pills.
I worked all the time so I barely ate as it was.
I isolated myself.
I became so skinny.
None of my clothes fit.
I developed so many health problems.
Work and home was where you could find me.
Tommys mental state was not well.
I had it handled for awhile, but eventually I lost it.
It was like one day the love of my life got into an accident and I had no idea who he was anymore.
He was gone.
Before the drugs came back into our life.
Before the adderall again.
I couldn’t bare his mind and my own anymore.
You can't pour from an empty cup.
And I was fucking empty.
I moved out.
But I didn’t leave him alone.
I couldn't.
I wanted my best friend back.
I just needed to move out so that my kids didn’t have to deal with it.
To show Tommy that I was serious.
That things needed to change and I wasn’t going to take his shit anymore.
Adderall was my best friend for a good couple weeks.
It was tax season.
I paid my rent for half the year and decided to quit my job.
I needed a break.
From life, responsibilities, chaos, my mind.
I have kids and they need me. I'm all they have.
But I wasn’t okay and I knew it.
I remember sitting in the bathroom every night, curled in a ball, screaming at god.
Why?
Why did he bring this man into my life to just tease me?
Everything was so fucking good for so long.
We had it all.
I finally had everything I ever wanted.
I wanted to fight his demons with him.
I wanted him to know what real love was.
Our brokenness is what made us perfect.
Fuck, my family even loved him.
That was the best part.
But his demons brought mine back to the surface.
The ones I tried so hard to forget.
I remember feeling numb.
The crying. Painful. Heart broken.
I had never felt like that.
It was the worst year.
So much happened and it was just one on top of the other.
I couldn’t catch my breath.
I let my family know that I wasn’t ok.
That I would be eventually, just not now.
I sent them shit I had researched to help them understand what I was going through.
I had the kids ride the bus to my grandparents every day.
It was the only way I would leave the house at least once.
I did that for me.
It made me get up.
And at least someone got to see me to know that I was okay.
I didn’t wear make up for weeks.
I had the worst tooth pain.
I got some pulled. No pain meds.
Asked my dad if he had any left. Last time I had tooth problems he gave me what was left of his pain pills. I remember when he handed them to me he said he was nervous and to be careful.
I was. I sold the rest once my tooth was better.
This time he didn’t have any.
No big deal.
He wouldn’t have given me any even if he did at that point.
And I don’t blame him one bit.
I went to my grandmas and rummaged through her medicine cabinet in the kitchen.
My grandpa had just said the week before that when he got his teeth pulled they gave him pain pills and he never took them.
So of course the addict in me had to go searching.
I saw my Granni coming out of the corner of my eye.
I quickly grabbed the excedrin and asked her if it was alright that I took a few.
I remember feeling like I piece of shit for even looking.
But it really was because I was in pain.
I can't pop pain pills like candy like I use to do.
More than 1 makes me sick.
March 20th, 2018 is a day will never forget.
I may not remember a lot, but this day is pinned in my brain.
The beginning of everything changing.
Full crash.
Head first.
I remember I was at my trailer and Tommy was there.
My sister called me.
She had just moved not too long ago. An hour away.
"Are you really doing drugs again????"
My heart sank.
She knew everything that was going on with me and at this point I had been done with the adderall for a few weeks.
"Everyone is worried about you, says you look like crap, and mom is saying that you are doing coke now"
"I don’t live down the road anymore or I would have already done been at your house days ago"
"Everyone is so worried , but they are afraid to say anything to you."
Oh my fucking…you have got to be shitting me!
I remember how I felt.
Blood boiling. Shaking. My heart was already broke. Go ahead and just crush it completely guys.
So the day I moved I went to my moms. I told her and my brother I had taken adderall so I can get shit done and get moved.
Nobody said shit to me that day about drugs.
I told her that day about how one time when Tommy and I were in a hotel he had gotten some white girl. Cocaine.
I told her that I tried to snort it, but apparently I'm not suppose to put things up my nose.
I have no idea what being high off cocaine is like. And thank god for that because from the sounds of it, I probably would have loved that shit too.
I don’t know why I told her that story. I was high that day. And I still think it’s a funny story.
But she took what I said, twisted it, and told everyone I had a coke problem now.
I should have known better.
She's always done that shit to me.
What she forgets to tell people is the part about her too.
My mom has asked me for drugs plenty of times.
She has done drugs with me.
She has done a lot of shit that I am not going to get into right now.
She forgot to tell them that, I believe a few months before all this, she had told me if I was ever looking for anything that she could find it.
She even tried to help me get adderall, but I found some before she did.
Stupid bitch.
I'm sorry, but as I'm finally writing all of this, all of those feelings are coming back with it.
Anyways, my sister and I talked.
She believed me and I'm glad that she was the one to come to me or I would not have known that every one was talking about me.
How dare they.
I told them I wasn’t ok.
I sent them things to help them understand.
The only person who took the time to figure out what I was going through was my best friend.
My sister.
The only one with the balls big enough to confront me.
I was done with it all after that phone call.
My sister said she was coming to town.
Guess where I went?
You bitches are too afraid to confront me? But you are so fucking worried, right?
I smell bullshit.
Unlike everyone else, my sister and I are not afraid to show up and ask you what the fuck your problem is.
And that is what I did.
Knock knock bitches its me.
I remember I told Granni to come to the laundry room to talk.
Of course the other bitch was there too, so I got to confront the both of them.
The look on their faces…priceless.
How could they say something like that and spread it?
After I told them I wasn’t ok.
I told them that people like them are the reasons why some people kill themselves.
You kick people when they are already down.
Fucking bullies.
They were both fake as fuck.
"Oh we were just worried hunny."
"We think the worst"
I can't remember the other bullshit they threw my way.
I remember leaving there even more pissed because they couldn’t grow some balls even when I was right there in front of them.
Told Tommy I was picking up the kids once they got dropped off there right away and we were going away for the night. Away from this shit.
And I did just that.
Peace!
I was gone by time my sister got to Granni's house.
I had to leave because I knew if I didn’t I was gonna say or do things that I would regret.
My sister said that they didn’t tell her I came and confronted them.
Do you know what those ladies said?
"Corissa, looked really good today."
It was the first time I had put on some makeup in weeks and actually got myself ready. Hair and everything.
Wow.
So you mean to tell me that if I had just put on some make-up they would have never started saying that I was drugs and looked like shit???
Wow thanks bitches.
Nice to know im ugly as fuck with no make up on.
To this day I will not leave my house without make up on.
Because of this stupid ass shit.
Later my son told me he had to tell me something.
"Mom, I can't take it anymore. They keep asking me questions and I'm tired of everyone talking about my mom and saying stuff that isn't true. And I don’t want them to ask me questions anymore. I can't handle the noise."
His expression and everything just broke me.
My 11 year old son felt like that.
No kid should ever feel like that.
Come to find out that what he was talking about had been going on for years.
Ever since I moved back to this shit hole.
The only reason I moved back is because my family is here.
So all these past few years I thought they were all proud of me and the whole time they were doing this shit behind my back.
Who are these people?
I remember I looked at Tommy and said I want to get fucking high. Go get the shit. I'm ready to try it. Fuck it, they think I'm on drugs so I might as well be."
Dumbest shit I could have ever said.
March 20, 2018 is when the meth came into my life.
I always said I would go to my grave never touching that shit or heroin.
My fiance and I slowly lost ourselves in such a short time.
Sure it was really good the first couple times I did it.
Then it got bad.
Real fucking fast.
I was an angry person right before it started and meth just made that anger fucking bulletproof.
Everything was ten fold.
I even wrote a book.
It was glorious.
It was brutal and honest.
And I wish I wouldn’t have thrown it away when I got out of rehab.
I wouldn’t have to be writing this right now.
Well, half of this anyway.
A month straight.
And it all feels like a glimpse, but so much happened in that short time.
I woke up one day and was just tired of it all.
I didn’t want to live anymore.
Tommy was on his bullshit, accusing me of shit like always.
I've been nothing but more than loyal to him so what is so wrong with me that he does this?
Why is nothing I ever do good enough for anybody?
I also woke up to a message from my Granni.
Toxic bullshit that just threw me over the edge.
I walked around looked at the kids said I'm so sorry in my head, grabbed a sheet, and locked myself in the bathroom.
I remember waking up to my fiance yelling at me, carrying me to our room.
I was so mad at him.
Mad at myself.
I have kids that need me.
I just tried to take my life.
If it wasn’t for Tommy, I would not be here today.
My kids would not have a mother.
The following week was it.
Last straw.
End of the road.
Fun while it lasted.
I feel like I talked about my family and all the bullshit from all of my life every minute of that month.
It was all I could think about.
I remember the last day we smoked.
We went to Peoria that day.
I was tripping on the way there.
All the lights were turning into transfomers, scary ass clowns formed from the lights.
I remember sitting there in silence.
Scared.
Is anybody else seeing this shit????
When we got back home that night it was around midnight.
We thought someone was in our house.
We chased nothing for 4 hours. Inside and out. I wonder if anyone saw us or heard us?
Destroyed our house. I remember hearing voices and laughter.
It wasn’t really there though.
I called the fucking cops on myself.
"Someone is in my house fucking with me and I can’t find them"
Its no wonder people make fun of drug addicts.
Don’t worry I laugh about it all now.
I was GONE.
Corissa was not home anymore.
I'm not sure who was in that body anymore.
He came and looked at me like I was crazy.
I was crazy though.
He came in looked around and was like "ma'am you mean to tell me you have been doing this for four hours?"
He knew what we were on.
The shit we got was bad.
You don’t trip like that a couple hours later.
It was also easter weekend.
I ditched my family.
My brother and sisters came over.
I vaguely remember.
I was just laying down to finally get some sleep.
I could barely walk.
At one point I freaked out thinking Alex was near the window scared he would fall out and he wasn’t even in there!
They knew.
My sister knows me better than anyone.
I didn’t listen.
Went to one easter dinner Sunday night.
My dad's.
Far as I was concerned that was the only family I had left.
My dad, his girlfriend, and all my siblings.
Only I ruined it all with them too that night.
Refused to take a drug test after I already told them I would. Never have I ever seen my brother so upset. I let them all down big time that day.
And man do I feel so stupid looking back now.
Looking back at all of it.
I never thought I had a problem.
But addicts never do.
Next day, kids came home from school and told me dcfs was there to talk to them.
5 mins later they are knocking on my door.
I was coming down hard.
I looked like shit.
Thank god I had just cleaned the front rooms.
The rest of our house was a fucking disaster.
The cop had called on us.
I found out later that my sister had made a report as well.
I've never been mad at her for it either.
At least someone was looking out for my kids when I clearly wasn’t.
I told the caseworker that my family was just mad because I wasn’t talking to them.
That I have just been depressed for a couple months. Really really depressed.
They did a walk around and took pictures of every part of the house.
I'm gonna be brutally honest.
They should have taken my kids that day.
All she said was clean your house, we will be back in a week to recheck. Just make sure you clean your house.
I'll get ahold of you for your drug test.
Sigh of relief when they left.
Ok, all I have to do is stay clean until my drug test and clean the house.
Get it together really fast Corissa.
You cannot lose these kids again!
I got a phone call from a friend that night.
I didn’t know I was in a 3 way call with my sister.
I don’t remember what was said, but I know my sister does.
I know I said something that really hurt her.
This friend talked to me.
She said she would come give me a drug test.
I told her to do it. Something wasn’t right. The way I was feeling just wasn’t right and I knew it.
The next morning I went and seen my therapist.
He told me I could go to the clinic and get a drug test if I wanted.
I was gonna go home, nap, and come back and do that.
I felt like death.
Well, just as I was getting ready to lay down.
Knock knock.
Here comes Diane and my sister.
They tell me I look like shit.
They pull out a test.
Let's do this.
I'm ready this time.
Save me.
My sisters face haunts me.
Every line lit up like a fucking christmas tree.
I HAD EVERYTHING IN MY SYSTEM EXCEPT FOR FUCKING HEROIN.
How the fuck?????
I pleaded and begged for my sister to believe me.
I had only done meth a few days ago and smoked weed and maybe some adderall too.
I hadn't had any kind of benzos in a long time. You know the story with cocaine. No crack, no pcp, no mdma, and no barbituates.
My sister was crying. She said if I didn’t get help she was taking my kids and that I would never see my niece and nephew.
I told her "get me out of here. I am ready to go."
Of course everyone thought and maybe they still do, that Tommy was drugging me and I didn’t know it.
I never once thought he would do that.
And I know that he didn’t.
He was just as bad as me.
He was worse actually.
He just didn’t have anyone to come save him or help him find a way out.
He also didn’t think he had a problem.
But that’s for another story because this one is already way fucking longer than I thought it would be.
And his story is worth telling because I come back and save him.
I didn’t say goodbye to the kids I just packed us all our stuff and left.
My sister had everything planned before she came.
My sister is the reason I am able to tell my story today.
They say you can only save yourself because you have to want it, but she helped me.
Rehab was the best decision I could have ever made.
I learned so much.
I came out of there a brand new person.
A new purpose to life.
READY TO FUCKING LIVE!!!!!
Because all these years I had just been surviving.
It took me 28 years to get a clear head.
28 years to grow the fuck up.
2019 was the best and worst year of my life.
I did not intend to go so deep into it when I started writing this.
I'm glad I did though.
I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my chest.
I don’t have to carry it all anymore.
Your secrets will keep you sick.
Well I no longer have secrets.
I needed to let them out.
One last thing I'd like to say.
When all this happened this recent time I kept saying I didn’t have anyone.
I love messages.
I love that I never delete anything.
Everything that is said and happened is so easy to find.
I've had to go back to all my stuff from then to remember everything that happened.
Some of it still gets my blood boiling but I cringe when I read my sisters.
I had someone the whole time.
She was the only person I talked to in that month.
We had some deep ass conversations.
Mostly about us and our lives and our family and why some of them are the way they are.
Our hurt. Our pain. Our paths. All the shit that we have had to face. All the toxic shit that we never noticed or didn’t realize just how toxic it really was.
I had someone the whole time who felt the same fucking way I did.
I don’t regret it.
I wouldn't change anything that’s happened.
I consider it a blessing.
True colors were shown.
And I'm either the one to blame or the one to thank.
We can all finally move on with some peace in our lives.
Sadly addiction didn’t just change my life.
It changed everyone's life around me.
That’s what happens.
Addicts don’t see that until they are clean.
The destruction, madness, hurt, tears, the despair, the worry, and the doubts.
The complete heartache that you cause everyone.
I consider myself lucky because not everyone has family or a support to help them get clean and stay clean.
And if you're one of them that’s reading this….HOLD MY HAND. I KNOW THE WAY OUT. YOU ARE NOT ALONE. YOU HAVE ME NOW.
Now that I've laid it all out, I am ready to serve my purpose.
God didn't put me here to save others.
He put me here to teach others how to save themselves.
To share my story and lend my hand out in a world so cold anymore.
All my life I've been trying to save others so it only makes sense.
I just had to save me first.
I never been excited for the future.
I have big plans to see through.
I'll get there.
One day at a time.
My name is Corissa and I'm a drug addict.
And with that said, I'll keep coming back.
****Huge thank you if you took the time to read my story. You rock!!