The Numbness of Shadows

Before the Addiction: Before the addiction, my life was good. I was genuinely happy and felt accomplished. Despite a troubled upbringing—separated from my siblings and left in situations that child services noted but did nothing about—I grew up differently. My beliefs and mindsets changed due to the minimal support I received as a child. I made peace with the tainted relationship I had with my mother, metaphorically killing her in my heart to give myself a healing heart that couldn’t let go while she walked the earth. My biological father walked out long ago, replacing me with a new family. From the start, I was discarded and treated like rubbish by my closest relatives, making the discovery of self-worth and inner love absent in my upbringing. Truly, I felt like I was born to hate myself.

At 18, I rushed into a safe relationship that came with emotional, financial, and mental constraints, but I wasn’t being abused, so I stayed. The lessons we learn when we make choices out of necessity. Married life in an empty home was lonely and, I fostered a 9 year old boy and raised him for 10 years until he tragically passed away in a car accident. He would have been a great man. He will forever be loved. Despite my accomplishments, much of my life felt out of control. I was working over a hundred hours a week, coming home to a pigsty of a home, a lazy husband who had no interest in me or touching me. I felt like his mother, and I was miserable, embarrassed. The day he agreed to an open marriage so I would stop asking for time together broke my soul. It was not a marriage of love, but I had not experienced enough good to know this was a miserable way to live. At 26, I left the marriage, seeking myself more than an unhappy union. I got my own home, signed up at the gym, trained every day, and became dedicated to finding myself.

The Descent: I met a man with his own demons, suffering from drug-induced psychosis. After five years of recovery he had a relapse, and one night something snapped in him. Believing we needed to go to a better place, April 6th he tried to kill us both. I left once more, choosing to love myself. Again, I got a home and got my life back on track, trained hard, perfected my strength and stamin, I refused to be someone's trash anymore.. Six months. I would be given six months of the beginning of my life, but, an arrogant man pinned my foot to the floor with a heavy-duty electric chair. I will go my entire life with the memory of the day he ruined my everything, this man that should have killed me as a kinder fate had significantly changed my life forever. Complex Regional Pain Syndrome, a relentless nerve disease, is hard to diagnose. And in the meantime, Specialists threw prescription medications at the problem and by the end of the month, my hand was full of different opioids and benzos. My lifes essence became like a pirate’s treasure, lost to the seas.

The Dark Place: Initially, the medications were great—no more pain, just nothingness. But the problem with feeling nothing is that you feel nothing. Not happy, not sad, not pain, not relief. When that registered in my brain, the aftermath of doctors’ irresponsibility, people’s arrogance, and choices not to listen, I became an empty shell, living on earth, existing in an emptiness I couldn’t escape.

The Insane Cycle: My addiction came with heaps of ups and downs. In moments of clarity, I begged for help, only to feed the addiction and not want help the next moment. The cycle was insane. The self-hate from not being able to control the call for the medication was overwhelming. The internal fight to get help, to have it denied, and then to fail at failing—it did something to my brain that professionals seemed to overlook as they deemed who had a problem and who didn’t.

The Cry for Help: Desperate for help, I reached out to a rehabilitation center, only to be turned away because I had made it 14 days without medication. The frustration and hopelessness of being refused help led me to spiral further into addiction. I felt lost, stuck, and alone, believing I wasn’t good enough or worth the effort to others.

The Turning Point: One day, in the midst of my darkest hour, something inside me snapped. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw a stranger staring back. The hollow eyes, the gaunt face, the lifeless expression—it was a wake-up call. I realized that if I didn’t take control of my life, no one else would. I had to be my own savior.

With a newfound determination, I decided to break free from my addictions. It was an excruciating battle, filled with moments of doubt and temptation. I remember one night, the cravings were so intense that I could barely breathe. I called a friend from a support group, and we talked for hours. That conversation was a lifeline, reminding me of the person I wanted to become—the person I was meant to be.

The victory was bittersweet. I had conquered my demons, but the scars remained. Lingering temptations still haunted me, and I knew the battle was far from over. Yet, I had reclaimed my life, my identity, and my self-worth. Now, I have a special fondness for a smooth pour of Patron, but the talk of a line can still make my nose twitch and smirk.

Conclusion: Reflecting on my journey, I found my self-worth and inner love. I fought for my life and happiness, stopping catering to others’ beliefs about what would and wouldn’t help. Admittedly, I don’t approve of the healthcare system or the limited resources available. This experience has shown me how much gets swept under the rug, how much corruption and abandonment happen in systems sworn to protect people. There’s an elephant in the room that isn’t being addressed—the massacres and suicides that happen, and as a society, we wonder why. But as a victim of the system, I understand a lot more now than I did before. My journey has made me stronger and more aware, and I hope sharing my story can shed light on these issues and inspire others to fight for their own happiness and self-worth.