Living Collections bring together Hidden South Stories, Road Notes, and Observations about specific subjects r groups of people. Living Collections continue to evolve over time as more content is added and more truths are revealed.
They kept telling me how great it could be in recovery. I thought that it was bullshit. My whole life I'd always heard, once an addict, always an addict. In my mind I was never gonna get any better. Never... I wanted things to get better, but I never knew I could live life without using dope, because I'm an addict.
I was driving through Rainsville, Alabama and I saw a sign that said Addicts 4 Christ. I had heard that there was a bad meth problem in the area and was interested in talking to someone who could tell me about their experience. I called the number on the sign and connected with Tina.
I'm scared, you know? I don't want to be Tory. Honestly Brent, I'm afraid to say that I'll never do it again. When you do that, you're putting yourself above what you've been through. I'm human and I have a problem. A real problem. That's the beginning of it when you can say, I got this issue and I'm not like everybody else.
This story contains graphic descriptions of molestation. I fight everyday of my life, but here's the messed up part, Brent [crying hard] when you get sober all these feelings are coming back that I'm used to medicating... what do you do? What do you do when you have to deal with this shit...
For a long time I tried to keep everything as clean and perfect as possible, so that nobody would get angry. After a while I realized that it wasn’t working, so I started doing other things. I self injured [cut] for a while. I wanted a way to control the kind of abuse that was directed towards me. If I abused myself, at least it was me choosing it.
It can be tough to stay positive when I’m faced with so much sadness and seemingly hopeless situations. Last week was particularly tough because I learned of Ela’s death. The day after I made the post about Ela, I received this message from Megan.
People know that I really care. I talk to them, hug them. I don’t care what they been doing or what they smell like or what drugs they been doing. I hug everybody and they know when I hug them that it’s a hug of love. I don’t judge them. It’s unconditional. I’ll love them whether they get clean or not.
you’re backed into a corner and you know that you’re about to take all hell. When I pulled the trigger that first time, boom, he was gone. He walked around the bed and dropped on the floor.
There weren’t any real good ways to make a living or anything up here in the mountains. We was selling drugs and moonshine and stuff. It was always a dangerous game.
A lady adopted them. I have a boy and a girl. One and two. It hurts that I lost them but I know *tears* that they’re in better hands right now. They’re more taken care of than I could have done right now. So… I’ve got to look at it the best way I can.
They sent my dad back to prison for something he did 4 years prior. He was clean with me. We went to a meeting every morning together and I went to my little night time younger people meeting and hung out with my friends. It had become a way of life for me. Then… it tore me up, I mean it TORE me up.
I battled with addiction. My son also taught me that when you love someone, you want what’s best for them. I feel I did the most unselfish act I could do by letting him go
The voice told me I could fly so I jumped from the 5th floor. I fell to the 2nd floor. Didn’t make it to the 1st. This was God because the direction I was going in, I didn’t go that way, It was like something caught my right foot.
I’ve been sober for 2 years now, but these last 6 months have been hell. I quit going to meetings when I got involved with somebody. Last Sunday I threw him out. I always fall back into drinking when I stop going to meetings. I isolate myself really, really bad.
I went home for the funeral and there was a letter that my daughter had never mailed to me. She had written it 3 days before she died. It said, “Mom, if something happens to me, know that I still love you. I just want you to change your life. Don’t do no more prostitution or drugs."
Camp Jesus is for the rejects. The ones who aren’t loved. The ones that people talk about and don’t want at Christmas dinner. If that’s you, come on down to Camp Jesus. See, Christianity’s all about loving your neighbor, not casting stones.
I used it on my own free will *tears*, but how could you possibly put someone that you care about on that shit? It’s very selfish, if someone does. You know? I wouldn’t do that to anyone.
My husband died on me 2 months ago. He had a heart attack in our home. Two weeks later my brother killed himself. Since then, I’ve just been out there. I’m lost. I’m just lost right now… my life is drug addiction.
This collection will continue to grow as more stories are released. Check back often for more stories that deal with recovery from addiction.