I’m not qualified to write this article. I’m not a recovering addict or an addiction specialist. I’ve witnessed the demons of addiction but I’ve never experienced them myself. I’ve never smoked a single cigarette or felt the high of an illegal drug in my body.
What I am is an anti-addiction success story. Not because I am a good suburban white girl who “just said no,” but because drugs and alcohol were the catalysts that led to my most painful childhood and adult memories. The single greatest deterrent to the road to addiction is hearing, seeing, or experiencing the negative effects of drugs and alcohol.
I was a zealous little crusader in elementary school. I grew up during the war on drugs and had a “just say no” pin on my jean jacket. My teachers likely thought my intensity was fueled by my perfectionism and desire for praise. They didn’t know that by fifth grade I already had flashbacks and mental battle wounds. I only needed to recall the time I thought my dad was going to kill my mom to be disgusted by the way people smell, talk, and act when they are intoxicated.
I found out later, during my dad’s testimony at church, that when I was young he sold cocaine, among other drugs, out of our tiny house. As early as four years old, I remember not wanting my dad’s friends to come over and fill our house with smoke. To me, they were yucky. I didn’t like it when they talked to me or tried to play with me. Even then, I knew something about them was not right… read more.
This article was published by adoption.com.