I met Alan. He was 26. I was attracted to his passion. He had such fire. He was a fighter. When he talked about cars, I was like 'do me'.
But he had a past.
He had become a stoner, and had gotten lost.
He suffered childhood sexual abuse and it left it's mark.
He was deeply paranoid and had major trust issues. He was angry and insecure.
We had a very messy too years.
My alcoholism progressed.
At 20
I fell pregnant. And sobered up (For obvious reasons).
My world became less painful and I had hope.
Alan couldn't come with me. He hit me when I was pregnant.
I had our baby and I lef him behind. I wanted so much for him to come too, but I had to think of my son now. I had to give him a good start and a good life.
I was a proud mummy, was grateful for where I was, was happy being sober and having my little one, and making a happy life for the two of us,
albeit hard on my own as a single parent.
But I was lonely. I hadn't found sobriety through myself, off my own back as it were.
I still had many demons to confront and damage to fix.
I was grieving the love I had for my first love. But didn't realise.
I had moved on but had been hurt. Again I did not confront the hurt but it was there.
How could someone I loved, who I thought loved me do what he did?
What was wrong with me?
I knew he had acted and behaved badly,
but did not realise his choices and actions were because of his own experiences.
I felt the hurt as a reflection on me.
At 22
I met someone, who I began an affair with. It was safe for me.
I did not think of the woman he was cheating on.
I only thought of me. How I felt.
All the attention, and gratification without any of the risk of the pain and hurt.
Or so I thought, for a while.
Reality hit me again, I was doing something, very wrong.
My girlfriend, that had gone overseas to uni, I was hurting.
I was causing the pain.
And the shame I felt for my actions overwhelmed me like no other emotional pain I had ever felt before.
I again felt so wrong. My choices could not be undone. I had no eraser.
I ended the affair, I told my friend the truth, I hurt her so badly.
I felt destroyed.
And I started to drink again.
I held on, and did not fall, quite so rapidly or hopelessly.
I had my son to think of.
I had to give him a sober mummy,
so he would not learn this destructive behaviour.
But I was struggling and floundering,
I felt so much guilt for my actions
so much guilt that I was letting my son down by drinking again
and guilt that I'd found myself back here again.
After being free for 2 and a half years,
Although with a level of control and determination,
That I didn't want to stay here,
That I could be free again.
So I'm holding on, trying not to slip deeper into my addiction,
as I've so much to gain and so much to lose.
And scared that I wont make it.
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