I’m very grateful to be clean today through CMA and other fellowships. My story is no different from anyone else’s, in that when I first came into recovery I wasn’t ready to give up the pain. It took me seven more years to finally understand that I have a disease and the only way I can change my life is by arresting my problem through the Twelve Steps and Traditions.
I generally don’t like to talk about the past, but here it goes. I was born in Southern California in 1974. My mother had me when she was 17 and I am a child of incestual rape. I found out later in life that my father, who was an abusive alcoholic, was also my grandfather. Yes, growing up, dysfunction and addiction ran wild in my family–it still does today. So I choose to stay away from most of my family for my recovery’s sake.
I remember my mom giving me drinks when I was six or seven years old because she was high most of the time, either doing heroin or heavily drinking. There was a lot of abuse in the house: beatings, belittling, bullying–you name it.
At first, I didn’t fully understand the drug use. I knew it was happening, but turned a blind eye to it. I wanted to believe my mother was going through a bad time, and it would pass. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. In 1986 my mother was committed to a psychiatric ward for trying to murder her girlfriend. I witnessed a lot of altercations in the house, either physical or verbal. I even saw my mother’s girlfriend beating her children. I’ll never forget that!
At the time I thought that this behavior was how you expressed love because my dad would do the same thing to me. And he would also molest me. That went on from when I was six years old until I turned 13. My uncle’s wife also molested me at an early age. A 28-year-old woman kissing me like a grown adult was not okay. She wanted me to strip for her and do all sorts of other things.
I started using drugs when I was 13, when my mother asked me if I wanted to smoke some pot with her. Of course, I wanted her acceptance, so I was willing to do whatever it took. Smoking weed with her was the beginning of my downward spiral.
I did psychedelics from ages 14 to 21 and experimented with a little bit of crystal meth when I was 15. From that first taste, I thought I’d finally found what I was looking for. Little did I know that my “woman,” crystal methamphetamine, would destroy me in every way possible.
I never talked much about my alcoholic dad because of his role in my life. But in 1991, when I decided to distance myself from him and get him arrested for the abuse he did to me, he took his own life. My mom told me it was better that he killed himself because he was not good for the family.
When I got the news, I felt both free and sad at the same time. My only coping mechanism was to call the dealer and get some meth. That became an everyday thing. Because of my addiction, I destroyed friendships, jobs, romantic relationships, and bonds with my loved ones.
I continued down this spiral until 1999 when I decided I had to change or I was going to die. So, I enlisted in the military. At this point I was only drinking. It wasn’t until October 19, 2001, that I decided enough was enough. I had to make a change because if I kept doing what I was doing, I’d be right back to where I was when I was using meth.
I got married and stayed in the military for 16 years. I ended up being medically discharged and my wife and I divorced. All those demons came back and wanted me to get back out there and use again, but I decided to go to therapy and take a more serious interest in my recovery.
I found a 12-Step Program in another fellowship, but felt like a square peg in a round hole. I felt like I didn’t belong and couldn’t relate. I finally found Crystal Meth Anonymous and it clicked. I felt like I had found my people. These people had been through the things I had been through with this addiction and I didn’t feel so much shame about discussing what I had done. I even started a local CMA meeting in my community. A few other crystal meth addicts in my area came out to support it. I didn’t feel so alone.
With the help of my sponsor and other addicts I began to open up more about how my relationship with my family affected me. After completing steps 4-9, I realized I had to share some feelings with my mother. I was 17 years clean, when I finally expressed all this. Mom apologized for everything she did because she understood her contribution. Since I was the one that kept the drug use going, I took responsibility for my part. Unfortunately, my father was not around to see me clean, but he was not really important to my recovery because of what he did to me when I was a child. I came to realize that what he did was not my fault. My sponsor told me to put myself on the amends list. I had to forgive myself. They told me in the program that I can either die with the disease of addiction or from the disease of addiction. My responsibility is to break the cycle of abuse and addiction.
As I write this I am 23 years clean from meth and everything else, including cigarettes. I’ve experienced many things in recovery, both good and bad. I remarried, went to war, and was beaten up physically and emotionally. I was deployed in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom in 2004, and 2008. As a veteran, I’ve witnessed many things that people only have nightmares of. I still do today. With the help of the Twelve Steps, my psychiatrist, and medication, one thing has been true—I never used, no matter what.
I am so grateful for the fellowship of Crystal Meth Anonymous and the other fellowship I’m involved in. Without the love and support I have today, I would have been dead a long time ago. I’m grateful for everything I have and even more grateful for the things I don’t have. I’ve learned to be more teachable, lovable, and a better listener. I also learned to have a lot more empathy rather than sympathy. I want to help people, but they must want to help themselves first.
When I close a CMA meeting, before the Serenity Prayer, I always take a moment of silence for the addict picking up for the first time, not knowing what they’re getting themselves into, and the addicts who are going to pick up for the last time, not having a second chance to recover. I also take a moment of silence for the families suffering alongside the addict with this disease.
I hope this message reaches somebody and gives them some glimpse of hope that no matter what happens, we can stay clean through it all.