Most of you may not know this, but growing up and for most my life I was an incredibly angry person. I was not loudly or outwardly angry, only occasionally when pushed to the point of exploding. I was a much more self destructive type of angry; I was quiet and implosive, hiding this seething anger behind a smile. I felt so alone, I hated myself and my life. I sought comfort and love constantly, but in all the wrong places. I had seen active addiction throughout my whole life. I saw friends and family throw everything away; their family, kids, homes, jobs. This resonated with me on a very sick level; what was so good about what they were doing that they were willing to lose EVERYTHING for it? I wanted to find what they had. I wanted to find that comfortably numb worth dying for. I had never seen anyone in my life actually appear genuinely happy, but I had seen people chasing something that had to be unexplainable. By the time I was 18 I had been in an abusive drug and alcohol fueled relationship for 2 years, we had an apartment, I had a good job where I worked from home, and I was vodka drunk 24/7, we had ounces of coke and grams of heroin at all times. By the time I was 19 we owned a mobile home, had 2 cars with car payments, I had a great job front desk selling insurance, and a full blown heroin addiction, and an abusive relationship that I thought was completely normal. Everything about my life I thought was fine, just fine. Not good, not bad, just fine. I used at about 3 grams of heroin IV daily just myself. We were drunk every night. I thought it was just a phase, everyone parties, but we’ll grow out of it. My relationship I thought was fine, normal even. We’d get drunk and we’d fight, loudly and physically. It’s normal to get drunk and beat up and have my things broken, to go without a phone because it smashed to tiny pieces every time I get a new one. It’s normal to have to buy concealer only to cover up bruises from fights and drug use. It’s normal to have to walk to work because he won’t give me my car keys. It’s normal to have my door kicked in by drug dealers and be threatened with guns. It was normal for me attempt to stab him mid argument with anything I could reach. It was normal for me to attempt to run him over if I got the chance. It was normal to not have electricity. It was normal to have a space heater plugged into the neighbors trailer. It was normal to not ask for help and pretend everything was okay. Everything that was my normal was so so fucked and I didn’t really even realize it until it wasn’t my normal anymore. I lived most my life thinking “this is fine” when in reality nothing was fine, but I didn’t know how to fix anything and I didn’t have the desire to fix anything. I thought I’d grow out of it, this phase I thought I was going through. It wasn’t a phase it was a sickness of mind, body, and soul. I was so broken as a person and this was the only life I knew, I had no idea that anything better was possible. I was trying to kill myself. Not necessarily an active suicide plan, but I was hoping my lifestyle would kill me, like it had so many people I loved. I prayed constantly to die or have some drastic change. Obviously I’m still here and this isn’t my life anymore. Something drastic did happen. It took a long time for me to figure out that there’s a better way to live. That how I was living for so long wasn’t normal. That you can find love and happiness without drugs or alcohol. That you don’t need to settle for someone that makes your life miserable. That there’s so much better out there just waiting for you to get up and work for it. No matter where you are, where you have been, or where you come from you can attain a better life, happiness, love, security. I promise, it’s out there, you just need to have hope and determination and you can have whatever you want out of life.