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THE LIFE OF A RECOVERING ADDICT
By Melinda Ramos, Alert Magazine

 

I grew up in what most people would call a dysfunctional environment. I was a very troubled child due to being raised in a physically and mentally abusive home, which led me to have lots of hate towards the world. My dad was an alcoholic and would come home drunk and abuse my mother regularly.
I remember one specific time; one that I will never forget. When I was about 8 or 9 years old, my dad had gone out drinking and all of the children were at home with my mother, night came and we all went to bed. I was in a deep sleep when I thought I heard a voice call out for help. I thought I was just dreaming, so I opened my eyes but laid in bed. Again I heard the voice call out for help, but this time it was very low and weak. The third time I heard the voice, I recognized it. It was my mother! At this point I jumped out of my bed and went into the room next to mine. When I walked in, I saw my mother lying on the bed with my dad was straddled over her; both of his hands were at her throat. He was choking her! He saw me as I realized what he was doing and he jumped off her. I ran over and shoved him, but before I knew it, he came back with a punch to the side of my face, sending me flying into the wall. From that time on I harbored a lot of hate towards my dad.
Life went on and I became the type of child that others would refer to as ‘troubled’. I was always fighting, incarcerated, skipping school, not going home for days, even weeks at a time, lying to my parents about where I was at, what I was doing, and who I was with. When I reached the age of 10, I started smoking cigarettes. By the time I reached age 13, I had started drinking alcohol, smoking marijuana, and using meth. One day I got into an argument with my dad. He told me that he hated me and that I wasn’t his child, then he told me to not go in the house to get any of my belongings because he had bought everything that I had. Those words hurt me so bad, I felt as though they had killed me inside. I thought to myself that there was really no reason for me to be around, so I did what I knew best; I left home and never came back. I have basically raised myself since then. Don’t get me wrong, I would call my mother from time to time to let her know that I was alive and okay. She would always tell me to come home but I would tell her that I couldn‘t until she left my dad. For years she prayed and sat by the front window hoping to see me walk to the front door, but it never happened.
My life went on and my using got worse as the years went by. I tried mushrooms, acid, cocaine, free basing, but nothing made me feel as good as when I used meth. By the time that I was 16, I was so far into drugs & alcohol that I really didn’t care about anything but getting high. I dropped out of school when I was a sophomore.
Soon after, a really good friend of the family raped me. The hate that I had stuffed inside me grew larger. Before this happened, my mother had told me to be very careful, especially being around guys. My reply was, “I’m too of a violent person and the guys that I know would never do that.” After I was raped, I had such serious issues that my mother had me admitted to Intermountain Hospital. I hated being there and I wanted to get out, not to go home but to get back to my using. I jumped through hoops, agreed with them, and before I knew it I was out.
Close to the age of 18, I made a decision to move to Blackfoot, Idaho with one of my older brothers. Living with him and his family didn’t stop me from using or drinking; it gave me more of a chance to run wild. I met this guy that was selling dope and started dating him. After we were together awhile, he asked me to go to Watts, California and I went. It was another bad decision that I had made, and the things that I thought would never happen to me again happened. My boyfriend’s uncle molested me. I told my boyfriend just moments after it happened and all he said was, “Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?” I didn’t know what to do about it this time; I wanted to tell someone so bad but I didn’t want to be thrown into another hospital. So, I kept my mouth shut about the whole thing and covered it up with more dope.
After I got back from California, I got into some trouble that caused me to be incarcerated for 120 days. Luckily, I only did two months and appealed to the court; I got out on a 2-year max probation. I successfully finished my probation and I was at a turning point in my life. I wanted to change, so I got back into school.
No surprise, I met this guy that would beat me up. He would tell me that he loved me and that he would never hurt me but he would still beat me. I was so confused, yet I stayed with him. He seemed to be the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with and I knew that he needed help. I had only been with him for 7 months when he asked me to marry him and I accepted. New Years of 2000, the guy that I loved so much and that I was going to be with for the rest of my life was slamming my head into the walls. That was it, I was done, and I left him. I was so hurt by this guy for what he put me through. I knew that I wasn’t going to be a victim anymore. I loved him but I made the decision to move back to Boise, Idaho.
When I got back, I was living with my mother and all that I could think of was going back to this guy that I loved and missed so badly. Instead of going back to him, I chose to relapse. I was back on the wild chase again. My mother knew and would ask me if I was using but I would lie and tell her no. In April 2002, I learned that my grandma was very ill and in the hospital. This was the first time in a while that I had to deal with a lot of emotional feelings. I didn’t know how to deal with it, all I knew was to cover it up by using and drinking.
On June 1st of 2002, my grandma passed away. I didn’t understand why God had taken her. She was a person that would do the right thing all the time and I was the one that didn’t. I would always think to myself, “I was supposed to be the one to go, not her.” On the 13th of June, I unknowingly committed a felony by selling dope to an undercover officer. I thought I was “da bomb” because I was selling dope but then again, which addict wouldn’t? My mind was set on was making money to get more dope. About a week later, I was in a really bad accident.
I was coming down from a high and I talked a friend of mine into going with me to Marsing to get some dope. I also had my 2 year old nephew with me. When I was at the location waiting to get my dope, I had smoked some marijuana and drank about 3/4 of a beer. On my way back to Boise, I was driving on Cherry Lane. I wanted to smoke some dope so bad that I had my friend get into my purse to get some foil out. I dropped my lighter and when I was reaching for it, I heard my friend say that my car had gone too far to the side of the road. When I looked up all I saw was a huge tree in front of me and a house to the right of it. I tried to get around it by pulling the steering wheel to the left, but before I knew it, I slammed right into the tree going 50 mph. The only person that had a seatbelt on was my nephew. It happened so fast; I really didn’t know what to do or what to expect. I was turning around to see if my nephew was okay and I realized that my friend was bleeding, just lying there helpless. I thought I had killed him. I really didn’t know what to do! I was hoping that someone would stop and help us but cars would just drive by. It had to walk out in the middle of the road limping, my nephew in my arms and stop the next vehicle that came. All I remember is a brown colored vehicle and it was a lady. To make a long story short, my friend was in a coma. I thank God he came out of it and is still alive. My nephew was okay, all he got was a burn on the side of his stomach from the seat belt. I just got some scrapes, bruises, and a sprained ankle. That was when I should have ‘woken up’ and opened my eyes, but I didn’t.
I went on using because I couldn’t live with myself anymore, especially knowing that I had almost killed two people. It seemed strange to me that I would smoke a lot of meth but it wouldn’t make me feel like it did before. I was still feeling all the hurt and pain inside. I remember clearly asking God to help me after all that had happened; I knew I had a problem and I wanted to quit but didn’t know how.
On October 24, 2002, my prayers were answered. I was arrested on a warrant for trafficking methamphetamine resulting from the sale of dope to the undercover officer. I was very lucky because I was supposed to have sold the person 2 1/2 pounds of dope but I had only sold 1 ounce and it was short. The Idaho law for trafficking methamphetamine is 28 grams or more but less than 200 grams, such person shall be sentenced to a mandatory minimum fixed term of imprisonment of 3 years. The ounce I had sold the undercover officer weighed 25.6 grams. That alone is a miracle in itself. I ended up doing 5 months county time plus a 6 month rider; I got out on an 8 year probation.
I have always said that, “I’m not afraid of anything or anyone but going to prison”. Now that I have been there I don’t want to go back. I’m coming up on 3 years clean and sober and I feel like I have never felt before. I’m very happy and blessed for what and who God has given me in my life today. I have a really good relationship with my family and friends. God has given me the strength to overcome my addiction. I know I will always have this disease and it’s not curable but I can fight it one day at a time by staying clean & sober. It is with pride and honor that I can say, “I’m a grateful recovering addict!!”
I am currently working at Alert Magazine and I am very honored to have been given the chance to share my story. So, please heed my words, if you’re an addict or currently using/drinking and you know you have a problem, I would like to recommend that you attend a meeting (NA, CA, or AA), get a sponsor, work the 12 steps, and ask for help. I will guarantee that your life will be better than you could ever imagine.