Dear Friends and Family,
I used you, manipulated you, lied to you, and broke your heart. While you cried a thousand tears for me, I was getting high. I make no excuses. A pathological urge with no conscience, integrity, or morals drove me. I put you through hell, and I regret that. Going forward, I will stop making promises and start making amends.

In other words, I won’t tell you I’m sorry. I’ll show you.

I said I’m sorry every time I screwed up and then repeatedly screwed up over and over again. My words were lies, and I believed them. When I felt guilty, I lied. When I was afraid, I lied. When I was angry, or I felt cornered, I lied. If I was having a good day, I lied. I lied about other people, especially if they confronted me about my addiction. I lied about how much I used, when I used, what I used, who I used with, and what I spent.

My friends and family were concerned. They saw my decline and tried to address it. But I wasn’t open to that conversation. If you were worried about me, you were the problem. I accused you of being a control freak. If you told me I was on fire, I said you started it. I blamed you for everything I did. Unless you were cooperating with my addiction, I despised you. If you tried to get in the way of my use, I would feel angry and betrayed by you. Incredibly, I was self-righteous about my usage. After all, it was your fault.

There were moments of shame and clarity, usually the morning after, but they were fleeting, and soon, the need would build again. The build-up to another relapse was feelings of irritability and dissatisfaction. I soaked up negativity and was blind to all that was beautiful in my life. I’m not sure why this happens. Maybe addiction needs a reason to exist. I fabricated excuses to get high. Excuses like: my kids were brats, my husband was a jerk, my parents weren’t supportive, and my boss wasn’t treating me fairly. I was stressed out and depressed and deserved a little pick me up.

I didn’t know it then, but that restless, irritable, discontent, toxic swirl building in me is how this disease plays out. I never guessed the build-up was my addiction. Drugs and alcohol are symptoms of dishonest thinking, emotional immaturity, and impulsive behavior for people struggling with low self-esteem, mental health issues, and an urgent desire to escape themselves.

It didn’t stop there, either.

Addiction is a family illness. The people who stayed in my life didn’t make me healthy. Instead, they got sick. In a relationship with someone who abuses substances, you must put your needs last, lower your moral standards, and give up a lot. I used to think it was me who was suffering. And it was, to a point. But I didn’t hurt nearly to the extent my poor family did. After all, I was high. They were not. I was emotionally unavailable to all who loved me. I put my wants before everyone else, including my children. I was verbally abusive, financially irresponsible, and completely unreliable. In all honesty, I was toxic to anyone who crossed my path.

Addicts bully their families into maintaining their habits. If your loved one struggles with addiction, you will need support. I wouldn’t be writing this post if my family continued to put up with my manipulative behavior. I wouldn’t be clean and sober; honestly, I don’t think I’d be alive today.

But I am alive and exceedingly grateful for that.

My family backed away from me with love. They reached out for help and learned how to set boundaries, allowing me to experience the consequences of my actions. These consequences forced me to get sober. Many years have passed since then, and I’ve learned that letting go is the ultimate act of love.

Today’s greatest gift of sobriety is spending time with the people I love. Like any family, we have our struggles, but the upside is that we’re learning how to live in peace and harmony.

Mine is not an unusual story. Millions of similar stories have one thing in common–someone reached out for help.