To Have Or Not: Kids?

I love my baby daughters. They are the best thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.

I’ve been blessed with easy, uneventful pregnancies and for one; a quick, natural birth with no intervention.

No drugs.

That was insane because I could’ve had Morphine legitimately and Fentynal in an Epidural but I wanted to prove to my husband (and self) that I could have a drug-free labour.

After a “Sunny Side Up” aka: backwards baby which results in painful back labour, I was able to give birth standing up and within just 3 hours of labour, one push and my 2nd daughter was born.

I was overcome by the intense burst of energy, euphoria and happiness all on my own body chemicals. The endorphins from giving birth naturally, being able to feel all that pain then absolute relief was life changing for me.

When comparing apples to oranges; an Epidural for me during my 1st birth was a painful ordeal.

I still felt everything although my legs and pelvis were frozen solid. I hated the feeling of two nurses, while my husband watched (and helped) them hoist my unusable legs into old stirrups.

A huge light beat down right in my Vagina for the Doctor to deliver the baby. I was completely confined to my bed, forced to give birth in front of 4 people (5 if you add my husband) while laying on my back.

Laying on my back reminded me of how pregnancy ends the way it began; by lying on your back! Ha-ha it was awful!

It was these two different experiences that validated a drug free life for myself for the rest of my life.

It lasted 6.5 months until I relapsed.

Even a birth like that wasn’t enough to keep me away from opiates when I began feeling overwhelmed with my new role as a Mother of 2.

Motherhood has changed me for the better but it also makes me wonder if having kids contributed to my addiction because it’s such a crutch. When I feel stressed and overwhelmed, the first thing I want to is a pill.

I fought my urges for so long because I do love my kids and being a Mom but it’s so hard. Any addict will tell you, even the love for your children is sometimes not enough to keep you sober.

I am grateful to be a mother and even more grateful that I was able to manage my addiction and urges while pregnant. There is no way I could have lived with myself had my daughters been born addicted to OxyContin.

I have read about the epidemic of Neonatal Abstinence Syndrome and how much it has increased:

I don’t judge the women who either use while pregnant or need Methadone/Suboxone. Knowing the battle they endure all too well, along with lack of support, it’s the perfect storm.

In Canada, babies are not automatically taken away from their mothers. Units within hospitals have been established so the mothers can stay with their babies as maternal bonding does help increase recovery from NAS (Neonatal Abstinence Syndrome) however the stigma from the general population must be hard.

I actually met a mother who was staying in the Baby/Mother Unit with her son last year after I had my daughter. She had been born at 36 weeks, so she had some jaundice therefore we had to stay for a few days.

She was a very nice girl and I enjoyed getting to know her. She was quite candid about her situation which I found endearing. Basically, she had been clean for almost her entire pregnancy until the last 8 weeks.

Unfortunately she had gone through a rough patch with her boyfriend, ended up leaving him, losing her job in the process.

I know these reasons sound like the stupidest excuses but really, anything can trigger a relapse and once it’s in your brain, nothing will stop it.

She used heroin once at 7 months pregnant, stopped for a bit and then started to use regularly for about 7 weeks after that. Of course her baby was born addicted and had to be weened off the heroin using morphine; every 4-6 hours depending on his symptoms.

For about two days, she didn’t admit her using so her poor baby suffered which I’m sure felt awful but she was scared he’d be taken away. Finally she admitted the truth and he was treated.

Of course Children’s Aid got involved but not to punish her, but to help her. She wasn’t charged or anything like some of the States in the USA do. Had her child been taken away or if she had been charged, I doubt the outcome would’ve been positive.

We became Facebook friends and she just celebrated a year of sobriety.

Day 3

Today I finally had enough energy to get the kids together and go to my mothers house out in “the country.”

My childhood home is like an oasis to me. When I’m there, I don’t feel nearly as anxious or depressed about my situation. There are no neighbours surrounding the property; just a creek and a forest.

The house itself is quite old, built in 1869. The man who built it was like a Donald Trump-like narcissist who believed everyone was out to get him and he was just the best goddamn house builder ever.

He drove a community apart with his behaviour including his brother, so he eventually left and settled down towards the Lake which is a good 30 km away.

Quite a distance to go in the 1800’s.

My house is the last standing home in a small hamlet. It used to be a post office/General Store. When the mill burnt down, the residents left for new opportunities and eventually the hamlet became part of the City.

Anyway that’s enough of a history lesson for today.

The kids and I stayed all day just playing outside together. My daughters and I sat on the trampoline while my oldest and I talked about everything.

I’ve been starting to emotionally prepare her for my absence soon by telling her “Mommy needs to go away for a little while but she will be back soon.”

My mother doesn’t think this is a good idea. She thinks I should just leave it alone and I don’t know, ambush her I guess the week I’m supposed to leave?

A four year old is smarter than we think and she knows something is coming up because I’ve told her.

She needs to know her mommy is coming back but she isn’t going on some fun filled vacation without her.

She has asked me in the past unfortunately if I’m sick or sad. She knows something isn’t right not from necessarily my drug use itself but the fallout from it.

For example when my husband is short with me and I don’t say much; she thinks I’m sad.

I’ve never passed out or been physically ill around her from using opiates but maybe I give off more than I know? Maybe she can sense something is wrong that I can’t? Just like they say kids can see ghosts?

My girls mean the world to me and they deserve the best mother possible.

I’d love to be able to say I’ve never chosen drugs over them but truth is, I have many times just to avoid withdrawal. I can honestly say I have not chosen opiates over them to get high. That’s easy for me to say because I really don’t get high anymore.

Day 3 on Suboxone and I am getting a bit stronger.

I actually missed the people who work at the clinic from before, I realized. They have hearts of gold and even tho they aren’t addicts themselves (or so I guess) they are extremely supportive and non-judgemental.

One of the rehabs I am waiting on (one of four), called today to do a pre intake assessment.

My daughter was having a bit of a meltdown which clearly the woman who called could hear because she asked when would be a good time to call back?

My husband works from home and he was standing right there listening to this woman and our kid going nuts. Instead of taking our daughter, he let the woman get off the phone when he should’ve said he had control of our kid.

The woman didn’t end up calling back so I hope this doesn’t affect my potential of going there. I’m sure she is super busy calling the dozens of other addicts who want help.

This annoyed me. For all the times he has said I don’t take help seriously enough, he doesn’t realize how much easier it’s been to stay sick so I can be here for my kids.

I don’t feel like I’ve chosen drugs over them because I am physically dependant on opiates so I cannot “Just Stop” without painful withdrawal so in a way, I kept going so I don’t have to be a useless puddle who lays in bed for days.

I wish he understood the denial I was in, thinking I could stop on my own and fix this myself.

Any way, big changes are coming soon I can feel it. I’ll be going away soon and I am starting to look forward to it.

For now, I will spend as much time as I can with my babies.

Enabler, Co-Dependant, or Love of My Life?

Right now I am sitting in the parking lot of my husbands bank while he goes in to clean up my mess.

Last week I mentioned how I stole $3500 from his account. I did this by taking his wallet and having a person who looks like him go with me into the bank.

As I know his PIN and information, it wasn’t hard to pull off this crime although when it came time for this person to sign as my husband, he signed his own signature because he refused to sign my husbands.

This triggered suspicion and even though they gave me the money, the bank ended up calling him to confirm his identity after we left. That’s how he found out I stole money from him. I don’t know why I thought this would ever work out the way I intended.

The bank froze all of his accounts until he went in to deal with it. I’m sure he is embarrassed and I know he is pissed off. Now he has to tell the Bank his wife is a drug addict who stole money from him with the help of an accomplice.

My husband has gone above and beyond to help me through my addiction.

He has cleaned up my mess more than once by endlessly paying off my debts. I know deep down he is enabling me but I also know he loves me and doesn’t want to lose the mother of his children to addiction.

You have no idea how many times I’ve contemplated suicide just so my family wouldn’t have to deal with this shit any more. Not to mention a nice life insurance payout so he can reimburse himself for all of the financial damage I’ve caused.

Addiction and debt go hand in hand along with lying, manipulating and stealing. I never imagined, ten years ago when we met, it would be this way.

To quote my dear husband: “What have I gotten myself into?”

If it weren’t for him, where would I be right now?

On the streets? In rehab? On heroin, a much cheaper alternative?

Ironically my husband and I met at the Bank in 2008.

His sister was working there with me as a teller while I was a Financial Advisor.

She and I had become good friends and she would often tell me about her “amazing” brother who has a heart of gold but is trapped in a miserable relationship with a psycho girl.

She would always talk about how good looking he was, how nice and smart but he was easily taken advantage of by her. They would have epic fights and he would try to leave but every time, she would threaten suicide.

Now to be clear I have never threatened suicide. I have just simply expressed my feelings about how I was feeling because I truly was feeling that way as a burden.

Anyway, he came into the branch one day and I didn’t know it was her brother as he stood at her wicket chatting away. I was right behind him watching, making silly gestures about the hot guy she was helping.

She kept shaking her head. I thought maybe he didn’t have a good financial profile or something so she was telling me “No” because I wouldn’t go for him (I was single) but she was shaking her head “No” because it was her brother and he was still taken.

After he left, she came to tell me who he was and I told her he was so hot, I wanted him and I would be her sister in law one day. Yes, I actually said that and it was an epic part of our wedding speech 6 years later.

My only obstacle was the fact he had a girlfriend but their relationship sucked.

Finally, January 2008 they broke up “for good” I was told and he was going to come to her going away party at a bar. She was leaving our branch for a new job so this was my only opportunity to meet him within a natural setting.

So my two girlfriends and I got all dressed up in our finest bar clothes and went out for the night. We got there, we were waiting with my now sister in law for her cousin to show up as he was our VIP entry.

We were also waiting on her brother who finally walks up with….the girlfriend.

They had reconciled earlier on in the day and she insisted on coming out with him that night. Mission aborted.

So I did what any single girl with a crush would do; I had fun. I danced with his cousin while looking over at him, I acted happy and carefree. I didn’t get sloppy drunk (my friend did that for me) and by the end of the night, I finally caught up with him as he was walking up to the bar alone.

We had made eye contact several times before to the point where his girlfriend got mad.

She finally let him out of her sight and I used this opportunity to tell him exactly how I felt about him; straightforwardly saying: “I want to fuck the shit out of you one day.”

And you know what he said?

“I’m sorry, I’d love to but I have a girlfriend.”

Now this could be interpreted in two ways:

I was just rejected or he is such a good guy, he wouldn’t even cheat although miserable.

My one friend had to go home she was so drunk and he actually carried her out to the cab. My other friend was impressed and said; “That’s the kind of guy you need. He is so nice.”

As the months went on, I had to forget about him as he stayed with the girlfriend.

I got a puppy, kept working hard at the Bank, went on horrible dates. Then one day, I got a message over Facebook from him asking me to hang out soon. This was about 5 months after the bar night and I wasn’t sure what to say.

Finally I called his sister who told me they had broken up two weeks ago but he was so relieved and happy about it. The final nail in the coffin was her hitting him during a fight which he then packed up his shit and left, never looking back.

I agreed to go out with him on the May 24 long weekend. We decided to go see the fireworks with his sister and cousins.

Italians love doing things together with family so it looked like I was about to meet everyone including his mother, which I did on our first “date.”

We had a great time at the fireworks but it was just a friendly date.

We didn’t have our first real date together until later in the week when we took my dog for a walk, spending hours together just talking about everything. I felt like I told him my life story, including the nasty breakup I had just had 8 months prior and what I expected in a relationship.

That night we kissed under the street light and the rest is history.

We were inseparable from that point forward, just assumed serious relationship status.

We bought a new house together 8 months later which was slated to be built within 2 years.

In 2010, we moved into that house together and got married in 2013.

Everything moved so quickly and I just wanted everything to be different from what it was before in both my previous relationship and his.

It was obvious when we moved in together that dating long distance (50 min distance between us) was very different versus living together. I became stifled by his OCD ways and the expectations of what an Italian’s wife should look like.

Between the stress of that and work, my drinking and bulimia took on a life of its own until I discovered Percocet in 2011.

Suddenly I could deal with everything. Nothing bothered me and I had endless amounts of energy which he loved.

It was as if I just accepted his way of doing things and he loved it.

I love him I really do but I’ve been living a lie for so long in this double life.

A double life which has made me do things I never dreamed possible just to keep my addiction to myself and going.

In our marriage vows; “In sickness and health until death do us part” was included although what does it really mean?

Do those vows include a selfish, conniving wife in the throes of an opiate addiction?

Or does “sickness” include addiction and all that comes with it, as long as that person wants to get better and is working towards that?

Both my husband and I know we cannot make a decision about our marriage for awhile.

I love him more than anything and I hate what I’ve done to him but if I could tell him anything, I did what I did to survive.

The soul crushing depression and anxiety I’ve felt my whole life felt bearable with enough distraction but eventually adding kids, a stressful career, mortgage and bills into the mix, it became too much to handle.

Once the sweet embrace of an opiate took over, it was literally a game changer.

The desire to change and the will to change are very different.


Ugh withdrawal – what a bitch.

Luckily the Suboxone has eased the physical symptoms like sweating, goosebumps, nausea and generally feeling like my blood is boiling but fuck, the anxiety is overwhelming.

Add two kids under 4 into the mix, I am just a puddle right now.

My husband knows right now is difficult for me and I’m trying to be as productive as possible while I’m home. Today he went out to the driving range for an hour so he could blow off some steam. I’ve always been the type of wife who lets him do just about anything he wants. In return, I expect the same but it doesn’t always happen that way.

When it comes to taking care of kids, men are just not the same. They cannot multi-task the way we do, organize and plan play dates as an example or have enough patience to deal with the mighty attitude of a 4 year old who thinks she’s 12.

The other issue is that my kids at least, just want their Mommy. When I leave, the world ends. When he leaves; “Bye Daddy! Have fun!”

When he came home, I decided to go have a bath as it eases some of the aches associated with withdrawal.

Even that was a burden; “Why didn’t you do that when the baby napped?”

I went into the bath anyway when my 4 year old comes up and demands I let her join me. I’m a sucker for her saying “Pleaseeee” a hundred times so I tell her she can come in but Mommy is having her quiet time so she needs to be quiet.

First thing she does; dump all the bath toys into the tub. Then she grabs my shampoo so she can “wash” her toys. I tell her no but she throws a fit, demanding that I give her the shampoo. I tell her no, you better stop or go back downstairs to see Daddy. She tells me “you’re rude Mommy! Im going to tell Daddy what you did!” Then she screamed in my face; this wretched “Ahhhhh” only a 4 year old can produce.

Out of frustration, I begin to cry. My husband comes up to get her and I said; “Get her out of here!” because I was so upset, I didn’t want to scream at her.

So that was the end of her world. I know I hurt her feelings but she was being ridiculous and she’s old enough to understand quiet time. I’m with her every single day, spending quality time doing whatever she wants. Mommies need alone time too. This was explained very well to her and she understands that.

She finally finished her tantrum and fell asleep for a nap. Once she went down, I had a nap as well. When I woke up, everything was fine and she was in a much better mood but I was feeling awful.

The pharmacist at my clinic; he sees all types of situations and addicts. He gets it even though he isn’t an addict himself. He gracefully explained that although Suboxone is effective, for the type of addict I am, it may not work as well.

In his opinion, I should be on methadone because it’s a direct replacement. Methadone gives addicts “the feeling they are missing” meaning it gives a slight feeling of euphoria.

The withdrawal process from Methadone, from what I’ve read, is much worse in comparison.

My brother, is also an opiate addict and took methadone for 2 years. He actually went to rehab to get off of it in fact and it was hell. However, he is now sober and off of all replacement drugs like methadone and Suboxone.

I will definitely need to increase my dose within the week if I continue feeling this way. I am taking 8 mg which isn’t that much but the medication requires a period of induction where you take small amounts to get used to it.

I don’t want to go on methadone but I also do not want to take pills. I’m going to give it a week, then decide.

Going back to today and feeling the way I do; I made a point of telling my husband this is why I have been unable to stay sober for any length of time since my relapse began in August, 2017.

I cannot feel this way around the kids. I need my space to go through withdrawal and to get better. It has been easier (in my opinion) to remain on the pills because it’s much harder to change. It is a long process.

Unfortunately it doesn’t work that way when you are a mother.

After having my 2nd baby in March 2017, I was in a honeymoon period of having a new baby (drug free birth!) and breastfeeding for 6 months.

Once I stopped breastfeeding, I started to feel depressed but didn’t tell anyone because I believed it would go away.

Then I started smoking weed again. This helped for a few weeks until I began cleaning out my maternity clothing and other junk; I found a pill. I took it and had an amazing high after a year of sobriety.

It was on – again.

I contacted my old dealer and went from nothing to snorting an 80mg OxyContin once a day.

One escalated to two, then three, four, sometimes five….sometimes 6.

Next thing you know I’m blowing (literally) through $400 a day in drugs.

Part of me feels like I deserve to feel like shit, to go through this pain because of what’s happened.

The other half feels like this has festered into what it is now because I’ve been trying to get better by myself in order to avoid disrupting my family.

I don’t know what is true or what I deserve but I do know more than ever, I need to go to rehab to get through this. Going to an all day, intensive rehab where I can simultaneously detox and receive help is the only way.

Every time I relapse, it is worse than the last. It lasts longer, it’s more destructive and it chips away at my moral compass to the point of having hardly any morals when it comes to drug seeking and use.

Thank you so much for all of the amazing, supportive comments.


Today I made a decision to go back on Suboxone; to control my addiction until I can get to rehab.

Many people consider this to be trading one addiction for another; myself included but I can’t be in active withdrawal for any length of time. I have responsibilities at home which require me to be present, not laying in bed feeling like death.

Believe it or not, even at the high levels I was taking, opiates do not affect me the same way they would affect someone not used to talking them. If you have ever watched a documentary about drug users, they often say they abuse their drug of choice “to get well” or “not sick.”

This is true. After awhile, the sedating effects of opiates go away or for someone like myself, they provide an enormous uptick of energy to the user. Opiates allowed me to get things done. If only I had an endless supply of pills or money, I wouldn’t be distracted by the full-time job of drug seeking and financing. That is what makes drug addiction so debilitating, at least in my situation.

I learned my limits long ago and I never injected them. I found a balance in an amount I could take which allows me to function and no one even knew I was on them. In fact, I was often complimented on how much energy I had or how I could seemingly manage it all.

That’s what makes my addiction unique; I am an extreme high functioning addict who for years held down a stressful career, motherhood and running a household.

It is very hard to accept sobriety when these pills make me feel so good and allow me to be productive.

The drug seeking behaviour and cost are the horrible consequences of my addiction along with the intense gratification of finding and taking the pills. It’s like a fucking gift on Christmas morning, I swear.

I know this all sounds like I am in serious denial about the depths of my addiction and I probably am but this is how I feel. When you live in active addiction for so long and no one notices or they compliment you, it’s very hard to rationalize the very thing that’s helping you is actually destroying you.

Things are very tense at home right now for obvious reasons.

My husband is beyond mad at me, which he has every right to be. He can’t believe his own wife would steal money from him and I can’t either.

He realizes my addiction makes me do things out of desperation but it doesn’t make it any easier to accept.

He is asleep on the couch right now and I want to just hug him. I want to tell him I’m sorry, please forgive me, this isn’t me, I’ll get better I promise but he has heard all of that before. I always let him down.

My poor family has been through so much becauuse of my actions and I wish I could take it all back.

A few years ago; before my 2nd baby so 2 years, my husband and I took a trip to Florida with our oldest daughter.

It was our first family vacation and we went with my Mom and Step-Dad to their house in Florida.

I made sure to take enough pills for the week. I was terrified of taking them on the plane but I didn’t have any other choice aside from withdrawal while on vacation.

The first few days I did alright; rationing them out day by day. Then I went into binge mode and did too many so I wasn’t going to have enough for the rest of the week.

We were staying until Saturday but I ran out by Wednesday. Intense withdrawal set in by Thursday and I couldn’t handle anything. The very sight of my family made me so annoyed, including my own daughter. I couldn’t be around anyone.

I begged my husband to go home. He had no idea what the real issue was but I told him I was having horrible anxiety, it was too hot, I want to go home to our dog who was going to be on it’s own for two days because my cousin who was house sitting needed to leave early.

Every excuse in the book and everyone was pissed at me for being a total asshole on the trip.

Finally, I booked my own flight home and said I was going. I had never spent a night away from my daughter, never had a real break in all of her two years alive. I rationalized that I deserved to go home early and have a two day break to myself. I had everything planned out.

My mother was PISSED. She saw right through me but couldn’t quite figure out exactly what was going on. She asked if I was having an affair. We got into a huge fight and I left on bad terms.

I needed a ride to the airport, which was two hours away. For $150, I managed to find a ride with an obvious heroin addict (track marks all over his swollen hands) but he was a nice guy. His van smelled like vomit but we talked the whole way. He too saw right through me. Takes one to know one I guess but he knew I was running home to get drugs.

I should’ve just asked him for something but I didn’t want to waste all the money I had spent on a plane ticket plus I had left on a sour note. There was no going back.

What’s fucked about this was as I sat in this van, knowing I was going home and would be out of withdrawal within a few hours, my withdrawal went away. That’s how insane it is. The mere fact of knowing I was about to get my pills, a placebo effect took away my pain.

The plane ride was a different story. I couldn’t sit still. My back really hurt and I felt achy, chilly and then hot. All I wanted was to get off this plane and get the fuck home.

Finally we land, 3 hours later. I get through customs, get our car out of airport parking (another $160!) and boot it home, driving 140 km an hour.

The sweet relief that followed felt worth it now that I wasn’t sick but I couldn’t shake my guilt. The thoughts of saying goodbye to my baby girl and her crying for me, my mom being so angry and my husband looking confused and hurt.

That was one of many selfish moves I have made to get my drugs. My family had no idea what was going on until a year later.

When they found out, everything added up and made sense. At the time, I thought my behaviour and desire to go home early made perfect sense. Looking back, I see how fucked up and selfish I was.

We haven’t been on a family trip since.

Anyway that is just one of many fucked up stories I can tell regarding my addiction.

Thank you for your support.

“Can I Take My Dog To Rehab?”

Every night after the kids go to bed, I lay beside my 11 year old Pitbull Mix. It’s really the only time we spend together by ourselves now that I’ve introduced two crazy people into our lives.

11 years ago, my boy was in a sorry looking state. He had been left to die in a basement apartment with his 7 siblings. They had been left to starve and who knows how long they had been on their own. A rescue group stepped in and rescued them all because in Quebec, most of the shelters are kill ones.

If the puppies brought there aren’t adopted within a time frame, they are gassed. It didn’t help he was already 5 months old when they found these guys so he was past the “puppy” stage.

Anyway, when I found him I too was in a precarious place. I had just ended a 3 year long relationship in which my ex and I shared a 1 year old puppy. Just to get rid of him, I let him take the dog we had shared since she was 8 weeks old. I was devastated but excited for my new life.

It’s amazing to me that during that time of heartache and pain, I was still incredibly happy because of a dog I had adopted myself. I waited 8 months after the breakup before adopting him; travelled a bit, obtained a promotion, lost 30lbs, had a friend with benefits.

After awhile, I yearned for something more and since a committed relationship wasn’t one of them (at least not with a human), I decided getting a dog would be a good idea.

At first I thought I wanted a brand new, $2500 pure-bred German Pointer. It had to be a female, just like my old dog.

Then I decided I wanted to do something good for animal kind and adopt a dog. I began looking online and found a few I liked but things never seemed to work out. Either they were adopted already or had issues; wasn’t the right breed or mix. I wanted a large dog; preferably a Rottweiler Boxer mix like my old dog.

Finally, I found a rescue group called Pawsitive Praise in the Niagara Falls area. They had a long post about these puppies plight and I just knew I needed to get out there to meet them. Of course there was a few female ones and they looked just like my other dog.

My mother was against the idea because she knew eventually I’d meet someone and would probably feel burdened by a dog but I was set on getting a female dog that looked exactly like my old one and nothing less.

The lady who owned the place, who I had spoken to earlier on in the week, came out with the cutest puppy I had ever seen. But he was a he….wtf?

“After talking to you and getting to hear your story, I thought maybe I’d introduce you to this guy first. He is my favourite.” She said.

He hid behind her until she brought out some treats for him. He was incredibly super cute and my mom loved him. Around the other dogs, he didn’t jump up or play with them, he did his own thing off in a corner which I actually liked. He was independent like me.

That was my boy. This lady who had only spoken with me for ten minutes knew exactly what I needed before I did.

Adopting a rescue dog, especially one that has been abused and starved, can be a difficult task. You need an amazing level of patience, love and respect in order to make it through.

After the initial honeymoon period where this dog behaved like an angel, we went through the real puppy phase of destroyed shoes, ripped up couches and pillows, a hole in my mattress because he was digging for my scent.

He had insane separation anxiety. He also hated my new boyfriend (soon to be husband) to the point of trying to bite him when he sat next to me.

I loved him though. When it was just he and I, we would snuggle and he’d look up at me with those sad eyes and I just knew we needed each other. He made me stronger, more independent in many ways even though a dog ties you down like no other.

Even though he was a total prick sometimes, he loved me back unconditionally and still does.

He’s been by my side through everything; two babies, this god awful addiction and the fights it’s caused, all of my happy or sad years. He loves our kids and our two cats more than anything. He follows me everywhere and won’t even go outside without me. If anyone tries to even take him for a pee, he won’t go.

I’ve never been away from him (or my kids) longer than a week. I don’t know how he will handle my absence and I know I can’t bring my kids to rehab, but I should be able to bring my dog. It won’t happen but still, animals can heal you and help you get by.

Ultimately I’ll be heading to rehab alone but it’s amazing what unconditional love can do for someone.

I hope, even though I’ve caused so much anger and pain for the ones I love, they find it in themselves to forgive me and see the good in me just like I saw the good in my puppy.

I knew his behaviour was from a world of hurt inside and with time, he could overcome his challenges.

When I am gone, I am worried my husband will have an opportunity to realize he doesn’t miss me or something because of all the shit I’ve caused. I know I can’t worry about that right now but I do.

Anyway enjoy some pictures of my sweet boy……He sleeps a lot.

Today Was Awful

Today was a horrible, good for nothing day – and it’s all my fault.

When I said in my first blog post that any redeeming qualities I once had are now lost to this addiction, I wasn’t over exaggerating. I did something so awful today and I don’t know if my marriage will recover even if I do.

I stole money from my husband. I didn’t take $100 or even $500. I took $3500 to pay off a massive drug debt incurred over the last two weeks.

Of course I knew he would find out eventually but I had hoped by the time he got his bank statement, I would be safe in a rehab facility.

Within an hour I was busted. The bank called him to confirm the withdrawal and he was so upset with me, he cried.

Miraculously I didn’t grab more pills today because I really can’t pay for any more and because I felt so guilty. Now I am feeling some symptoms of withdrawal; just achy, sneezing and irritable but I deserve worse.

First off, I can’t believe I did what I did. I know I did it out of desperation because let’s be honest; a $3500 drug debt won’t just go away.

But I also did it because if I didn’t pay, I wouldn’t be able to get any more pills as this person is the only one who sells my drug of choice. $60 per fucking pill. Swallowing or snorting money. It’s so fucked up.

Unfortunately I will do anything to avoid withdrawal but after today, I don’t have a choice. My plan is to wait it out for another day and go back on Suboxone until I get into rehab. The facility I plan on going to dispenses it so that way I won’t get cut off.

My mother has been involved in my addiction every step of the way and I swear if it wasn’t for her, my husband and I would’ve killed each other by now.

He needs support too and since I’m the 2nd child of hers to go through opiate addiction, she is a seasoned pro. He goes to her for just about anything which doesn’t bother me.

What does bother me is when he tells his family because they do not understand any of this and basically think I’m one big loser.

Don’t get me wrong; right now I am a loser but I’m still his wife and the mother of their grandkids.

Around Christmastime, my husband found out about the true depths of my addiction because he went through my phone. He saw all of my messages back and forth to dealers.

It was 6 am, Christmas morning when he woke me up to tell me he knew everything and how could I? How could I still be using after everything we had been through? He had just paid off $14,000 in debt for me which I had racked up in only 3 months.

We tried to keep Christmas Day as normal as possible for our children and the next day, I checked myself into a Detox Facility. You can only stay for 3 days so really when I left, I was in the throes of withdrawal. The first two days were actually bearable but when I left, all I could think about was calling someone to make it stop.

After all of that, I only lasted two weeks before using again. I went on a huge binge until he caught me again. This time, I went on Suboxone.

I have a demon inside of me and it controls my every move. Nothing will stop me from getting what I need including theft.

We had gone to counseling together in February and the woman was into the tough love approach. She basically told us we were in denial and that I needed to go to rehab NOW. My husband didn’t think it was that bad. I agreed even though I knew it was.

Going away to rehab isn’t an easy decision. I love my daughters more than anything and they are extremely attached to me. Not to mention I am their primary caretaker during the day as my husband works from home so he can’t watch them, he has to work.

The counsellor actually ended up dropping us as clients because of our denial; I wasn’t going to the 4 weekly Narcotics Anonymous meetings she had asked me to do. I think I went to one meeting.

One thing she did say however which resonated with me was my husband needed to know his part in all of this and he shouldn’t be telling his family all about my problems because they are protective of him, so they will obviously take his side and hate me.

I don’t blame him for telling them today about what I’ve done but it doesn’t help me now knowing they know I’ve relapsed AGAIN. Plus I stole money from him so I am sure they are planning some sort of intervention for him to talk some sense into him and leave my sorry ass.

If he did leave, I wouldn’t blame him, really. Even though I treat him really good and love him, I let him do whatever he wants to do and I take care of the house, kids, him, etc. It’s not enough when you stack it up against my addiction.

However that being said, big changes need to be made in order for me to get better and our relationship hasn’t always been healthy.

He has a massive anger issue and yells a lot. Our entire relationship, he has always been extremely critical and controlling. We don’t connect on many levels and sometimes I feel like we are just together for the sake of not being alone.

I often feel like I can’t stand up for myself or say how I feel because I’m the one who is addicted to opiates but a lot of this shit has been going on forever.

A lot of marriages do not survive addiction. I have prepared myself for that and have already accepted it. Maybe that’s what needs to happen anyway because often, addiction is a symptom of a bigger problem.

We shall see. For now I am still at home vs a jail cell.