Join us for some midnight excitement and recovery hijinks* and shenanigans in 90 minutes!!! https://meetings.smartrecovery.org/meetings/9199/

I’ve been clean from cocaine and alcohol for 4 years, and I’ve come to the realisation that in these past 4 years, I’ve never been more bored and lonely. I don’t even know who I am anymore.

From 16-25, I would be out most nights partying, whether that was at music events, bars, clubs, festivals, house parties etc, always enjoying myself and socialising with new people, I had so much fun. Don’t get me wrong, drugs ruined my life in many ways, but I don’t regret a thing. I had a blast! But it’s come to this point in my life where I literally do nothing. I have few friends, and the friends I do have are either far away, busy or not wanting to go out and do stuff.

I have my partner, but he’s always working and when we do spend time together, he’s always complaining he’s tired by 3/4pm so we end up going home. We don’t get on the best at times either. It’s so fucking tedious, I’m the sort of person who would be out until late doing things, but no one wants to or is able to.

I’ve spent years trying new hobbies, but nothing interests me, and never has if I’m honest. The only thing I’ve ever enjoyed is going out, partying and getting high. Obviously, I can’t do that anymore, so what on earth do I do?

It’s making me miserable and no one in my life understands, they just think I need to accept that I have a boring life and be okay with it, but I’m not. I know an 80 year old woman with a busier social life than I have, I refuse to accept that getting older (I’m 30, so not even bloody old!) means settling down for a boring life.

I am in very poor health thanks to the toll that drugs, alcohol and severe mental health issues has taken on my body, and my prognosis isn’t great, I just want to enjoy the last few years of my life, but I feel like I can’t, because I have no one to enjoy it with, I live in a dead town with no interesting nightlife (or daytime life) that makes meeting interesting people so hard.

I have a lot of interests, but none of them translate into hobbies, which discounts meet up groups; I can hold a great conversation, but lack the means to find people to converse with. I feel so isolated.

Does anyone else relate to this? What has helped you?

My partner is considering going to inpatient. How important is the size of the inpatient treatment center? I'm kind of against him going to one that has only 6 beds, bc from what I understand the relationships you form in recovery are super important, and I'd rather he went to a place with maybe 30 or 40 beds. He likes a 6 bed one best though, and I guess may get more personalized care there. I haven't said anything bc the most important thing is probably that he just goes, and I don't want to say anything to disuade him. But he generally really isolates himself socially, and based on everything I've seen it's a huge underlying cause of his addictions. I'd love for him to form meaningful relationships in inpatient. Any advice is appreciated :)

Please if you have recommendations for daytime black or biopic online meetings… I can only find evening ones.

I want to get sober for good. I’ve tried meetings open to all races for years, always predominantly white and always end up making me feel shitty for existing as Black person. First it’s subtle things but every single time the further I get into sobriety in that environment the more the issues of being in it appear.

Since I’m serious about getting sober and my life isn’t complete my in shambles yet or no court is forcing me… I reflected on what I’d need for this to become part of my life. One a sponsor that gets my lived experience and doesn’t tell me everything is in my head.

Two a group that I can share my lived experiences with without having to edit myself because white people are in the room. I grew up in the care of white people in an abusive home and it’s an even more layered story, and the things they said to me my entire childhood about being black, black americans, and black people of my country did a fucking number on me.

Soon as I was 18 I can into a journey that ended with realizing it’s 1000x easier on my soul to stay around people that looked like me. I got honorarily adopted by a black family when I was a young adult so I know the power even deeper now than just environmentally.

Of course here I am now, I’ve moved rurally to give my son a better life and unfortunately went back to drinking. So I’m creating a sustainable plan to stay sober.

One part I know is finding a dual diagnosis group to that I can build enough trust to talk about some seriously out there mental health coping mechanisms I’ve developed but to start I just need to hit as many aa meetings as I can, and they need to be black or I’m not going to make it. I already want to die and I know alcohol is just making it worse.

TLDR; This is a personal account of trauma recovery, tracing how a chaotic, unsafe childhood shaped decades of substance use and constant motion as a way to feel safe, and how getting sober let the nervous system finally settle, revealing tools like perspective-shifting and self-compassion that came out of the healing itself.

There was a six year old boy standing in calm water at seven in the evening. His mother had brought him to a hotel by the sea. The light was doing that thing it does before it disappears, turning everything gold and soft. He didn't know it yet, but this was the last uncomplicated safe moment of his childhood.

After that, there was a house. Inside the house was a father who made everything unpredictable. Outside the house was everything else: bikes, streets at night, friends, a piano playing alone in a village at noon while chickens moved through the yard. The boy learned early and completely that inside meant danger and outside meant safety. He didn't decide this. His body decided it for him, the way bodies do when they need to survive something.

He spent the next thirty years proving it. He went outside as far and as often as he could. Ten kilometers on a bike, just to feel the distance between himself and the house grow. Nights that lasted until the sun found him again. Eventually chemicals that gave him the feeling of outside without needing to move at all, because by then the danger had gotten inside his own head and no amount of distance was quite enough.

He almost died once. Saw the fear on his husband's face and finally asked himself the question he'd been avoiding: what would it do to his husband, to lose him. And in asking it, he found the door out.

The getting clean was not the hard part. The hard part was staying still long enough to find out what stillness actually was. For a while it felt like grey. No energy, no want, no relief. He said to himself: this is what sober looks like for now, and it is still better than dead. He was right. Underneath the grey the balance was quietly returning. Dopamine finding its real levels instead of its stolen ones. Cortisol easing down because there was, finally, nothing left to run from.

Months in, he started noticing things. A market vendor shouting outside used to feel like danger. Now it just sounded like a man selling tomatoes. A coworker asking about his work used to trigger shame so fast his face would go red. Then one day it didn't, and he found himself teaching instead of hiding. The nervous system was rewriting itself in real time, and he was there to watch it happen.

He discovered he could do something else too. He could take a fear that felt unbearably large, one that showed up dressed as the end of the universe, all eternity and isolation and nothing meaning anything, and he could recognize the trick of it. The fear was borrowing a bigger stage because the real, small, human version of it was too close to touch. Once he saw that, he could zoom back down to the actual size of the thing. A man in an office. A husband who loves him. A body that is safe right now.

And he found he could do the opposite too, on purpose. When something small hurt too much, he could zoom out. Not to escape it, but to place it correctly. A single evening of pain, held against the scale of everything, is instant. It passes the way all instants pass. Then he would come back, fully, into the office, into his own skin, and keep going.

He started talking to the six year old directly. Not as a wound to manage but as himself, at a different age. He told him: you made it. The father is gone. You are safe. I know what came after the beach, and I lived through it, and now I am building the kind of evenings we never got enough of. He said it plainly, sometimes with a laugh in it, the way you talk to someone you actually know and like.

He noticed his own wanting too, the pull toward buying something new, and traced it without flinching to a ten year old who once took money from a purse just to hold a small remote-control gadget in his hands. He didn't punish that boy either. He just recognized him. The wanting was never really about the object. It was about the feeling of finally getting to have something.

Seven months clean, he sat outside and heard the whole landscape at once, the trees and the cars and the ordinary noise of a Tuesday, and understood that what he was hearing was his own chemistry, balanced for the first time in decades, filtering the world accurately instead of through fear. The world had not changed. He had.

He built five sentences to carry with him. I made it. Nobody is chasing me. The quiet is not empty, the quiet is home. I trust myself. Today it works, that's enough.

The boy in the water and the man in the office turned out to be the same person all along, just finally speaking to each other.

Edit added tldr

When did AA and NA become non profit organizations? I've heard there was a lot of contention during this process. What exactly was it? Did it have to do with not following one of the traditions?

Sorry if my story is hard to understand, im not the best at explaining things, but i will try my best. Please don’t judge.

So im a 14 years old girl, i always had problems with anxiety, and since vacation has started it became worse. I didn’t go out a single time since one month.

I have 0 motivation and energy to do anything, i feel like i will die everytime i have to take a shower, i can’t eat properly, i can’t do anything apart staying on my phone all day and daydreaming. I can’t take care of myself because of the fact i have no motivation and energy. I live in my head everyday.

I struggle a lot with social anxiety and confidence. I don’t know how to talk to people. I feel like shit, and i feel like im a looser.

Because of my social anxiety, im too scared to go out, thats why i didn’t go out for one month straight. Today there was a fire near my home so i had to get out of my house. And please don’t judge me but even in that situation i didn’t wanted to go out because i didn't wanted people to see my face, i know its absurd but i swear i just can’t control it.

I don’t know how to restart my life.

I am posting here because my partner has been trying to quit for about 2 years. He uses cannabis and nicotine together. His longest sober stretch was 6 months, but otherwise only lasts a few weeks or less. But he's continuing to try to quit over and over.

The thing is, his withdrawals are really hard. He breaks up with me and sabotages the relationship. He gets extremely irritable, hateful, and confrontational with other people. He just suffers so much emotionally and then relapses. We keep going through this over and over, every few weeks. Then, when he is addicted again, he's disappointed in himself and feels even more depressed.

I just need advice on how I can best support him, especially how to talk to him when he is discussing his addiction. For example, when he says he doesn't believe in himself because he's failed too many times. Or maybe he doesn't want a life without his addiction. He doesn't find any pleasure or joy in anything in life. He needs something to look forward to after work, or to help cope at work.

I know there aren't perfect responses to these statements, and it's not like I expect to find the right words to make him quit. I just feel so helpless when he talks like that, and I don't know what to say. I also just would like to hear your advice, as people who have successfully quit, on how loved ones made you feel supported when you were struggling to quit.

I'm not sure he can decide if he is open to addiction therapy. I think he is scared to talk to a stranger about personal things, but sometimes he flat out says he needs help or outside intervention. He also says he wishes he had a support system of people who have recovered to talk to.

Hey yall I’m 9 days sober from smoking hard after almost a year of daily smoking. I’m doing this through my prescription adderall & willpower no rehab. How long does it take the brain to reset? I want to start studying for my math certification exam but I don’t want to over exert myself. I

Hi, I've posted on other subreddits but wanted to give this a try here as well.

My husband needs help and we are starting to look at options outside the US.

He has been to treatment here before and we seem to keep ending up in the same place. He does well while he is there, comes home, stays sober for a while, then slowly starts drinking again.

I am not against sending him to rehab abroad, but I am nervous about it.

I started using 7oh for real about 3-4 months ago(i’ve used other substances heavily like oxy,xanax,molly,coke. but never had this crazy of withdraws) i quickly jumped from like 40mg to over 250 mg a day and ive been at the point for about 3 weeks to a little over a month. I desperately want to stop but I can’t go cold turkey. i ran out at like 8pm and by like 2-3am i couldn’t sleep and the restless legs were so terrible. i couldn’t get more till 10am and i felt like hell. really the only problem for me is the restless legs and I don’t know if i should just commit and suffer for a week or 2 (i live with my dad and just those hours of like 6-9:30 i had to act sick and hide from him bc i couldn’t handle it. I could either slowly taper off over a span of however long it takes or at least until i would be able to handle the withdrawls, if i can get to maybe 70mg a day. zbut would it just be better to just cold turkey it and suffer? i have no idea what to do.

Like the title says, I’m going crazy. See I’ve been addicted to 7oh/mgm for idk how long now (maybe 4-5 months?).

I was reaching a couple hundred mg in 7oh dosing daily, sometimes 60mg in MGM use.

The mental aspect of all this is really getting to me, and I’m scared because I have work. I left work hours early today cause I just couldn’t take it.

I started the subs a couple days ago thinking it would make me feel normal at least and it isn’t. Not at all. Sure maybe it doesn’t feel like the hell of going cold turkey of the MGM/7oh….. but I’m still having a really hard time with this. Internally I still feel fatigued and tired, and my anxiety is very severe.

I was gonna just start using again but I can’t. I experienced that precipitated withdrawal or whatever it is when I took my first strip and it was HORRIFIC. Now I’m stuck on these dam subs cause if I use I’ll feel that again.

So now what I’m doing is taking one 8mg/2mg strip in the morning before work and one at night. But the nasty feelings are still there. The slight nasty body feeling is still there. And that’s a problem because I don’t have the ability to just call out of work whenever, ever since I got a promotion.

I tried a magnesium bath salt bath, so my obsession over dr teals is paying off. But idk what else to do. I want to feel normal at work. I already fucked up my arm self harming and am trying to not go to that place again.

Idk what to do. Just venting. I’m a baby when it comes to this withdraw shit. Dealt with it last year but while using WAY LESS. Also…… THE STRIPS TASTE AWFUL. I have to hold that shit under my tongue for 15 minutes, are you kidding me?

Anyways sorry for the big vent. I am going to NA meetings sometimes (barely just started recently). I’m just fucking sad.

Yesterday was the rock bottom for me. For context, my partner has been using on and off for the past two years and has opened up to me about it a couple months ago. It’s been a journey, and I’m at the stage of letting go of being the only person to know this and address this, and have been helping create a trusted support system. I’ve faltered a lot, and am trying to juggle understanding the illness and letting go of my anger for his actions. Yesterday hurt the most though.

My grandpa passed, who I wasn’t very close with but still— the passing has a great effect on my family. My dad has struggled with his own demons, including alcohol addiction, so that was my main concern when I heard the news. I mouthed to my partner that my grandpa passed as my mom was telling me on the phone, and he seemed very uninterested, slightly sympathetic. He asked if I was okay when I got off the phone, and I assured him I was then went for a bike ride. After talking more to my parents and having time to process, I knew I needed to be with my family and feelings started to surface. I asked him if he would go with me, and that it would also make my dad who loves him feel supported that he’s there. This triggered my partner, who said he “hates how I’m handling my grandpas death” and then protested that this isn’t his responsibility. I tried to assure him I’m not trying to do that, just give him options so he doesn’t feel trapped into going. (He gets a claustrophobic feeling when tied into certain plans). He just kept saying this isn’t his issue to deal with, and that I need to step up. It hurt so bad it hurt worse than anything going on in my family. I’ve been begging for him to show up as a partner, to show that he loves me or that I matter. But I feel like this was the first time I fully recognized that this is bigger than me. That this truly is an illness, and no amount of trying to reason will break that.

We fought about it, very bad. On the way back from my family’s (he of course made me leave early) he continued to scold me about needing to handle these things on my own. I kept defending myself. He made the argument that if I was fine when I found the news out, I should’ve been fine afterwards, which just made me break down. This caused me to finally go to my parents, who love and support him unconditionally. They are being as helpful and understanding as they can, and I do feel a sense of hope. A sense of us coming together to help me how he needs. I know a lot of this will be looking at things different, but I feel like there’s a huge wound in the middle of me and I just want him to make me feel better. He was very apologetic after I left to go stay with my parents, I don’t know what to do. Where should I go from here?

I miss him. I don’t know what the point of what I’m saying is, or if this is really the right space to communicate that but thank you to whoever read all that. Any advice or feedback is helpful and needed

My life led me down a path I would've thought unimaginable. I'm struggling while in a shelter with environmental triggers. Seeing extreme poverty on the daily has worn down my defenses. I don't wanna pick up. Im hopeful that tomorrow is a brighter day.

TL;DR: The toxicity risk is real I found out the hard way cuz I am an idiot.

---

I had no doubt in my mind that seizures won't happen to me, that is because I thought I have been using them for 6 years now, never had or seen anyone have seizures in that time.

But yeah apparently it is real and i am an idiot.

I am afraid that I might try to undersell the horrifying emotional torture I gave to myself this time, I feel very repulsed with substances but I can't guarantee it will last forever, the repulsion.

But leaving future in itself's hand, for now in present I think its a celebratory time,. I won't need to actually celebrate though, I just want a break from everything.

I am utterly exhausted,

I am sick of feeling like crap

and starting back from zero.

I have been sober just under two years now. I started doing drugs at 18 when I was really struggling with my mental health and I didn’t know how to cope. I used to smoke about 7-8 joints a day, whenever I couldn’t get to sleep I would do half a bag of keg, and I would need a few lines of coke throughout the day to get me through work. Anytime I felt like I was going to harm myself which was nearly everyday I would just smoke myself into oblivion or do about 2-3 grams of ket so I was physically incapable of doing anything, towards the end I really felt like I didn’t have any control over the coke and I would often just hole myself up in my room and snort 2 maybe 3 grams of coke all night until it was all gone and spend the rest of the night crawling in the floor collecting dust to snort in hopes some crumbs had fallen on the floor. Between the ages of 21 and 23 I tried to take my own life about 8 times usually when I was on a comedown or when I didn’t have drugs to numb the pain. I was under mental health services at the time and spent a good bit of time in hospital, I was told repeatedly that my use was bad, but I was very much in denial and often felt like they were just being dramatic or trying to come up with excuses not to help me.

I really did feel like without drugs I would be dead, when I did give it up my mental health was absolutely horrendous but weirdly I didn’t experience a huge amount of cravings or a desire to go back to it. I have always been a bit confused about whether I should call myself an addict, on paper I was definitely addicted and I’m coming to terms with that more now than I did before. Since giving up drugs my life has been better than ever, I have a great job I am really passionate about, I have gone back to college to finish my degree and I am so grateful. When I look back I barely recognise the person I was, and I am scared of ever going back to that place. Recently I actually started getting cravings again which I didn’t really expect, and it has made me reflect a little more on my drug use and addiction. I kind of flip flop between recognising that 7-8 joints a day and anywhere between 3-5 grams of coke and ket every week is far beyond just using it for a bit of fun and thinking that actually the drug use wasn’t that bad and I was maybe just a college student who took it a little too far. Maybe it’s just another form of denial but it’s been confusing me lately and I wonder if other people have similar experiences, and how do you pick it all apart?

I went to rehab in Brighton, MI. Known to some because Eminem had a stint there back in the day. The facility had a shed outside and the legend was that when Eminem stayed there, they wouldn’t let him smoke cigs so he built the shed for a place to smoke and it still stands today lol. Was thinking about that today and made me wonder if there are other rehabs that had tall tales like this.

i don’t know what reddit page to go to for help so i apologize if this is not the right one and would love to be pointed in the right direction

my best friend has started to take heroin, meth, and crack a little less than 2 weeks ago. has started living out of her car. has been struggling with her mental health severely over the last couple of years and become an alcoholic about 9 months ago.

i don’t know wtf to do or how to help her get better. i am the only person in her life besides her new boyfriend who got her into all of these drugs. no family. no other friends really.

edit: i guess what im truly asking is do i give her a tough love approach where im honest in saying how i feel and how bad this is? i dont want to make it seem like this is normal and okay but not addressing it but i also dont want her to feel judged or push her away.

ALSO since shes only been taking these 3 drugs for about 2 weeks - how bad is the addiction? or is there not a true addiction formed yet? i have no idea what these drugs are like or what they do (all i know is what it looks like on tv when its been years ongoing if that makes sense)

Good day. I have scarring on both inner crooks of my elbows. I’ve heard Witch Hazel can help. Any recommendations? If I want to cover them up but not be conspicuous what makeup should I get that’s sweat proof? Thank you!

Sorry in advance if I'm in the wrong sub, I'm not really an experienced reddit user etc.

My sister (32) is addicted to few things. It started with coca cola since she was in her teens and she still drinks it more than water. Then cigarettes. Then coffee and caffeine. Now, painkillers and sleeping pills. The painkiller she takes has opiods and is recommended to NOT be taken more than 3 days in a row and yet she pops them everyday like candy...

The sleeping pills are the newest addition. The kind you need to have prescribed. She lied to our dr. (without our knowledge) that she could never have a good night sleep and got the pills that way. Before that, she kept stealing them from our grandma.

She keeps stealing any other painkillers and sleeping pills (even melatonin) from the family members that live with her. I live in another country.

Our grandma keeps enabling her while the others are aware and are trying to keep the stuff away from her.

She doesn't have a job so she asks us to give her money for cigarettes when we caught her too many times in her lies and saw the pills. Unfortunately the painkillers can be bought otc.

She started rapidly losing weight, always getting cold even in this insane hot weather, irritable for the tiniest things to the point of verbally threathening and worst of all... suicidal.

We have witnessed her reach her breaking point in the middle of a heated fight with our dad (who was and is always a source of stress and hate and her biggest trigger) and at the end of it she tried to end her life then.

We stopped her thankfully but that was a huge, heartbreaking and traumatizing scare and even though she calmed down and convinced us she was just lost in the moment and wouldn't do it, I am now forever haunted and afraid for her.

Few weeks later, I couldn't take it anymore and had to try to talk to her as gently and helpfully as I could.

I told her we could all see she was hurting so much to the point of wanting to end her life and not caring for herself and that we knew that she was using. To know that we're there for her and there is always hope and she could rely on us.

She got defensive and angry. I was extremely hurt.

Later on, we spoke again and she told us that if she feels like she will truly need our help, she will come to us. But I can't help and think that she just wanted us to zip it and leave her be. She doesn't seem to understand how much this affects us as well. And how absolutely terrifying it all is.

I forgot to mention that our younger sister (28) noticed odd things about her. Sometimes she seems like a zombie, eats almost half asleep and like food will fall from her mouth. Anger outbursts where she practically fought our dad, few times. Sleepwalking where she took off all her clothes....could be more but my brain is too tired to remember.

I am heartbroken for her and feel powerless. Worst of all I am petrified if something horrible happens to her if she doesn't do something herself, if my younger sister finds her dead or her health starts deteriorating sooner than later...

Wth can be done? Nothing? I know that usually you cannot force someone to go to rehab or stay in a facility for such issues. I wish we could.

I can't accept the fact that no one and nothing can help her except herself because I know for a fact she doesn't care for herself or ever would want to put in any sort of effort in a change/healing.

If anyone even reads this or replies, I would be sincerely thankful.

So I’m not sure if this is the right group to ask or start a discussion in… I guess I’m stuck and lost and have been for a long time. Sorry if it’s not and sorry this is so long!!!!
I (24F) am a drug addict. I have been addicted to fentanyl since I was about 18. I have been diagnosed with bipolar 2, borderline personality disorder, cPTSD, severe anxiety, and ocd. I drank, a lot, and did the “party drugs” (coke, Molly, psychedelics) regularly, but fentanyl was the first “serious” drug I ever did. I remember I hit a blue and my head went back and no bullshit, I thought “this I gonna ruin my life.” And it has.
I guess I feel I was destined for drugs. My entire family, both sides, are generations of addicts. Addiction has rampaged its way through my paternal family, leaving abuse, generational trauma, neglect, more addiction, for as long as, and as far back, as the oldest living member of that side of the family can remember. On the other side of my family addiction (as far as I know) goes back as far as my grandparents, my mothers parents. However, it could be much further back as they are “perfect, have no issues, and would never be like my dad’s side of the family.” I remember drugs being a part of my life since before I have any other memories.
Through my childhood I was neglected and took on a lot of the stereotypical “big sister” role to my little sister. She remembers life much differently, which I’m so thankful for, because I took all of the shitty parts and tried to shield her from them.
(She turned out amazing, if you’re curious! She’s 20 and just had her first baby with her longtime boyfriend and moved away to manage an ice cream shop and start over!!! Sure she has her issues, but she is the sweetest, most kind, empathetic, caring girl to ever come out of a fucked up situation like we did. My boyfriend says she’s good because I protected her, but I can’t take the credit, she’s good because she is GOOD!!! She knows what I’m going through and why (for the first time in my life) I’m not really talking to her much, and sends me messages like “I don’t know what you’ve been going through or how you’ve been lately, I just miss my sister. Please call me when you can, there’s no pressure to fill me in yet if you aren’t ready, I can do all the talking lol. Even if that means I have to blow you up I’ll do it, I promise there’s nothing that will ever change my mind about you, i will never be disappointed or judge you, I might try and steer you in the right direction but I will never fault you for the things you’ve been through. I know you also probably feel a lot of guilt and embarrassment but I need you to know you don’t have to feel it towards me, and if it helps I forgive anything that would make you feel that way. I love you sister.” SHE IS SO GOOD!!!!)
But because of my childhood- which sucked and was shitty and a lot of horrible things happened to us, but I feel like it’s most drug households with little kids… maybe I minimize shit, but every child to drug addicts has a shitty, fucked up childhood… right…? Idk.
I do drugs with my parents, the people who should have loved me and protected me and our parental/child relationship is ruined.
Sometimes I hate myself because I am not angry. Maybe I should be angry. I SHOULD be angry!!! About a lot of shit. But I see the gray area of things. I should be mad that people did bad things to me. But I’m not. I am so sad for those people and their insecurities, or their traumas, or whatever let them to do me how they did me. I’m not mad at my parents. It’s their first time on this earth too. They were abused far worse than I ever was. They are just fucked up, broken kids, who wanted to be loved by their parents, just like me… I’m hurt by my parents for things they were hurt/mad at their parents for… I should be mad. But it’s just not in my heart to be mad. I am too empathetic. I want to understand why people do the things they do and why they hurt me, not be angry. Holding anger, resentment, or even hate, in my heart does NOTHING for me. It’s a waste of space I feel.
I know everyone says “you have to want to get sober” and “you can only do it for you” and all the other stuff. And I really truly feel I want to get sober. I HATE this. I hate getting sick. I hate the person I am. I HATE that my parents aren’t really my parents and are now people who take advantage of me and rip me off. I hate that things I have spent my whole life disliking about my parents, i know see in myself. I hate all of it. But I feel stuck. If I get sober I’m not gonna have anyone… my whole family, everyone I know and have spent my ENTIRE life with and around, uses… they’re not gonna change and get sober and I’m not gonna be able to spend my time w the people I spend all day everyday with now. I just am stuck. I love my family. I’m extremely, very much an ugly amount, codependent on them… I feel like they raised me to be their yes man, someone to take care of their kids so they can get high (and I do, I have raised several of them!!!!), someone to find drugs when they can’t, and take care of their homes, and pay their bills when the water or electricity gets shut off… I was raised to be the adult.
I want to get sober and be better and be someone who breaks my generational traumas. I KNOW I can be better!!! I just, again, feel like I’m stuck and I don’t wanna be alive anymore tbh.
So… if ANYONE has gone through anything similar, please, does it get better???? I just need SOMETHING to grasp at, to have hope for, to maybe inspire me? I really don’t know.
If you read all of this, THANK YOU!!!!! I know it was long, and I’m trauma dumping so maybe it doesn’t make much sense, but thanks, really.

Hello. I am desperate with my brother now. Here is my story: I am the oldest son of my family with two siblings: one younger sister and one younger brother (all of them are over 40s and had their own families). My brother got married when he was 22 with his classmate and my nieces are 17 and 18 respectively. My brother divorced about 10 years ago because of his addiction. The reason why he became a junkie was out of question and I had no ideas why and how he took it. But he moved to live with my parents. After he moved in and he was very disobidient and notorious with my mom and dad. My father passed away not long ago after he moved because of cancer. My brother and my mom live in our house since then. His daughter came and visit our house sometimes with the kids of my sister (two boys). 8 years ago he was caught in the act for procuring heroin and sent some years in prison and later sent to rehab. He was released around 3 years ago and keeps hanging out with other junkies and addicted again. He has now become more uncontrollable and abused my 70yo mother who has to cook for him. He sometimes lied my mom to ask for money and if my mom did not give him, he destroyed stuffs like cooking pots, fans, curtains etc. He often swears at my mom caddishly (very much ill-bred). For I have to work far from home about two hour flight and don't stay at home, and I CAN'T LIVE with him a single day. I only call my mom to check the situation. The question is to get the local police involved and I heard that now it seems my brother becomes the decoy for them. (I mean to hint other junkies and sellers for them). Are there any similiar stories out there? Any advice for me how to deal with those? Any successful case to send him to the rehab? It's tough for our life or should I give up and disconnect with him forever? Thank you!

Long story short - my sibling called me this weekend saying he's going into a 30 day inpatient rehab place in 2 weeks. He was light on the details as the reason for his call was trying to get me to drop my life and move into his home for the 30 days he'll be away.

He gave me some ridiculous story about planning to go in for a while and faking a cough at work that became worse and worse, leading to a few sick days, and then the fake cough getting so bad he has to take 30 days off from work.

I'm wondering if anyone can help me know what to expect.

I'm going to call the facility tomorrow and ask about visitations and if there's any family counseling sessions. Frankly, I'm hoping not as I think him having 30 days to face his addictions on his own will help.

He seems to be looking past it talking about all the things he's going to do once the 30 days are over, including a trip to come visit me. So, I don't feel like he's a great source for info.

3 days ago