Chuck

@elgwyntaylor
Community Voices

I’m new here!

hi! i’m new here. i’ve fought with my brain for 16 years. i’m a mom, a cna, a plant lover, a hippie, and “crunchy”. i chose to hospitalize myself for the first time in my 29 years of life to keep myself safe. i am trying to heal. to cope. i’m hoping to find a place here. i don’t want to lose this battle, but i also feel it slipping from my hands. thanks for reading. 🖤

#MightyTogether #Anxiety #BipolarDisorder #Fibromyalgia #PTSD #ADHD

16 people are talking about this
Community Voices

#what I need right now

I need to get up out of my seat. I became too hot with the heating pad inside I’m not going to stay here. I have been sober 35 years, clean of Oxycodone two years, now at the lowest level of opeats in 10 years. I have Ankle Spodylitis and bipolar one and depression and these conditions require I take medication for pain, bipolar disorder and depression. Since I am older I have lots of meditations, I think a good doctor to help with management for me is essential. I also ask my wife her opinion, trying not to judge her. This is difficult, and finally I hold my tongue realizing my heart is not so much pain as rest so at night I can. Tomorrow is the first time I have been there I have been on my own for more than 3 hours. This since I got terribly ill 9 months ago. My best friend a retired nurse urgently told me to get to the ER and there a CT with contrast revealing a life threatening AVM. On October 29th at 9 a.m. the tumor was taken out saving my life and perhaps allowing me another 10 or 15 years with my family and friends. I am not completely sure how I am. I find out if the operation was such tomorrow at 1:00 p.m. I have another CT with contrast to see if the surgery is 100% successful. There is no half way or even one molecule of removal left behind. This tumor can come back. I won’t know until I meet with my surgeon if this dangerous surgery is successful. I have been having anxiety since before my surgery, and in the last few weeks my psychiatrist has checked me twice, and in two weeks another visit with my therapist, my primary there for me. The entire medical team watching me. I have the CT tomorrow nothing more can be done. Thank you for being there.

2 people are talking about this
Community Voices

Opiates, alcohol and disability!

<p>Opiates, alcohol and disability!</p>
Community Voices
Community Voices

I would like to listen because I find myself talking out to the people who are always listening because I feel often wrong and that people don’t under

Community Voices

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7 people are talking about this
Community Voices

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7 people are talking about this
Community Voices

Forgiveness

<p>Forgiveness</p>
55 people are talking about this
Kathy S. Molina

How My Mother's Support Helped Me Overcome Alcohol Addiction

I’d wait for my mother to fall asleep. A bit past midnight and in between the silence, I would sneak my way out of the room, shot glass in hand. We lived behind a bakery — my mother’s third attempt at a business — and in that small shop we sold various breads and pastries. Among which had a special ingredient, at least special enough for me: Rum. I’d sit at the bottom of the shelf where we’d keep stocks of bottled inventories and pour myself an almost full shot. Just enough to take some heat but not so much that the content of the bottle would be visibly seen as decreased. I didn’t do this every night. Only on occasions when my own stash of cheap gin behind my clothes in the closet had dried up. But nonetheless, there was immediate guilt. I would take the back of my palm and smudge away the taste from my mouth as if I could undo it. I’d wash my shot glass and brush my teeth and go back to bed. To this day, I wonder if my mom ever noticed or how much rum cake we missed out on baking. Amidst my battle with alcohol, among other things, I had a difficult conversation with my mother at some point in time. I told her I was lonely. Sitting on the couch, in full attention, she asked me why. “I feel alone. There is nobody.” To which she replied, “Then what are we here for? What am I here for?” I can’t say I came to my senses right then and there. There were many more demons and battles I had to overcome and it was definitely an uphill battle. I had to read a lot about addiction and alcoholism in my journey to recovery, and this was years and years of working on myself as an adolescent and into adulthood. But to this day, I believe that my journey to recovery started with that one conversation with my mother. We always say that in order to better ourselves, we must want to. Change starts from within. We must want to help ourselves. And while all this is true, one thing we should also talk about is support. Addiction in any form starts with a lack of support from the environment we are in. While seeking help and reaching out for that support starts from us, those who want to get better, those who want to recover, it is also our responsibility to check in and give the same support we are seeking to those who are unable to, for whatever reason. While I personally owe a lot of it from my mother, support can come from any which way. We can seek it and we can give it. It may not come from a mother, or a shrink. It may come from a friend, a sister, a husband, a partner, a dog, a stranger. It may come from your weekly conversations with your grocery attendant or your monthly visit to your barber. But just like my mom, don’t be afraid to have that difficult conversation. Don’t be afraid to be there for someone because your support could, believe it or not, save lives. I am now in my 30s and have been alcohol-free for more than a year and a half. I was 16 when I was crouched down in the dark drinking my cheap gin and stolen rum. I never would have made it if it weren’t for my mother.

Kathy S. Molina

How My Mother's Support Helped Me Overcome Alcohol Addiction

I’d wait for my mother to fall asleep. A bit past midnight and in between the silence, I would sneak my way out of the room, shot glass in hand. We lived behind a bakery — my mother’s third attempt at a business — and in that small shop we sold various breads and pastries. Among which had a special ingredient, at least special enough for me: Rum. I’d sit at the bottom of the shelf where we’d keep stocks of bottled inventories and pour myself an almost full shot. Just enough to take some heat but not so much that the content of the bottle would be visibly seen as decreased. I didn’t do this every night. Only on occasions when my own stash of cheap gin behind my clothes in the closet had dried up. But nonetheless, there was immediate guilt. I would take the back of my palm and smudge away the taste from my mouth as if I could undo it. I’d wash my shot glass and brush my teeth and go back to bed. To this day, I wonder if my mom ever noticed or how much rum cake we missed out on baking. Amidst my battle with alcohol, among other things, I had a difficult conversation with my mother at some point in time. I told her I was lonely. Sitting on the couch, in full attention, she asked me why. “I feel alone. There is nobody.” To which she replied, “Then what are we here for? What am I here for?” I can’t say I came to my senses right then and there. There were many more demons and battles I had to overcome and it was definitely an uphill battle. I had to read a lot about addiction and alcoholism in my journey to recovery, and this was years and years of working on myself as an adolescent and into adulthood. But to this day, I believe that my journey to recovery started with that one conversation with my mother. We always say that in order to better ourselves, we must want to. Change starts from within. We must want to help ourselves. And while all this is true, one thing we should also talk about is support. Addiction in any form starts with a lack of support from the environment we are in. While seeking help and reaching out for that support starts from us, those who want to get better, those who want to recover, it is also our responsibility to check in and give the same support we are seeking to those who are unable to, for whatever reason. While I personally owe a lot of it from my mother, support can come from any which way. We can seek it and we can give it. It may not come from a mother, or a shrink. It may come from a friend, a sister, a husband, a partner, a dog, a stranger. It may come from your weekly conversations with your grocery attendant or your monthly visit to your barber. But just like my mom, don’t be afraid to have that difficult conversation. Don’t be afraid to be there for someone because your support could, believe it or not, save lives. I am now in my 30s and have been alcohol-free for more than a year and a half. I was 16 when I was crouched down in the dark drinking my cheap gin and stolen rum. I never would have made it if it weren’t for my mother.