Hi I'm KC and I'm an addict/alcoholic. 

I was born in California and lived there until I was 12 years old - family relocated to Wisconsin - lived there until I was 17.

First time I ever got drunk, I was 15 years old; First time I ever got high - I was 16 years old.  I was a rebel.  I’d try anything, do anything, and loved it.   I was raised in a dysfunctional upper middle class family, Dad was physically, sexually, and verbally abusive, he is an alcoholic (you don’t say

At 17 I was sent to an all girl college in Milwaukee.  I did not fit in, so I ventured.  I ran away at 18, after getting drunk with my college roommate - took a taxi to the greyhound station.  I apparently got on a bus because I wanted to see my boyfriend (Scott) who was getting out of the US Marine Corps that week.  I sobered up on the bus somewhere in Michigan and remember seeing the Kellogg's Cereal Plant when I opened my eyes - I had no idea where I was or how I got there.  I continued on the greyhound (too late to turn back), went to Scott’s hometown where his mother (who I never met) picked me up.  I stayed at their house until Scott got home (8 days later – he got drunk and arrested with marijuana before making it home)

I was so kind to call my parents 14 days later – Mama thought I was dead some where.  Missing persons had been filed.  I left for Florida soon after (1981), married (everyone at our reception dropped acid).  LSD was my drug of choice back then.  I quit LSD when I found out I was pregnant with my daughter. (Good thinking).  I remained in dry sobriety for years except for very rare I got to escape drunks).  We had two children; I got my degree in nursing (LPN).  My husband died in a motorcycle accident in 1987 after relapsing and going on a 3-day coke high and drunk. 

The kids and I moved to Louisiana for a while near my mother.  Still in “dry sobriety”.  When she passed from cancer in 1990 - I moved to Atlanta, then back to Louisiana, met a man (Bryan) and married him 3 months later 1991. Bryan; he was clean.  He moved the kids and I 7 miles in to the woods from the nearest town (where he was raised from birth) on to his family land in Mississippi.  Eight of his family members also had homes on this land. He gave promises that I didn't have to worry about anything, he would take care of everything, and I no longer had to handle raising the kids by myself, paying bills alone, worry about food, and I would never be alone again.  I was tired and welcomed this.  

OMG this city girl stuck out like a sore thumb - I knew no one within 150 miles and Bryan liked it and kept it that way.  I tried to learn the family law -  tending to the chickens, making souse from hogs (ever boil a hogs head!), rounding up goats, and the pure back woods.  It wasn't in my blood. I draw the line on ringing a roosters’ neck!  (smile) 

There was no drinking or drugs allowed.  I woke up out of a cloud in 1992 and said what the heck am I doing.  I was miserable.  I asked for a divorce and he said no.  It was never brought up in front of the kids.  He had already adopted the kids. I couldn't clear my mind enough to think rational and just leave.  In Mississippi, divorces must be agreed by both parties - unless physically abusive (prove it) or mental illness (mine!!!).  Bryan was not a bad man; he did his best with what he knew.  He provided for his family.  This is where I finished raising the kids. I was a good Mom for the most part.  Coached baseball, helped with cheerleading, went to the ball games for seven years. 

Life was good (they say) for the kids - not for me - I never told anyone how I felt inside.  I was stuck in the woods, controlling husband, no car, and no life other than cooking, cleaning, tending to "my chores" and my kids; he did not want me to work. In 1993, after asking for a divorce for the ump-teen time, taking off, being dragged back - he told me I would never leave him, I was his, and he would find me no matter where I went. 

After some time, he did agree, to letting me go back to get my RN degree with the agreement that I had to work in the very small county hospital (7 miles from our home) 3 days a week.  The kids were getting older and I felt it was all that I had left, so, I put my heart in soul in to nursing.  I was good at it.  I was stuck in a 1950's marriage – so be it.  Our entire time together, he never cooked, cleaned, or did laundry - after all, his mother never asked his father to do anything like that and she kept a spotless house. 

In March of 1998, the kids were gone with their friends, and we had yet another hidden fight - it was a big one.  I ran through the woods to the highway and found a little bar - I got drunk - saw an old patient there (Mack).  He was a patient the lock up section in the hospital trying to get off of cocaine, had an affair with him (we never used but did we drink.

That lasted until July 7, 1998 - when Mack and I went and got drunk, woke up; after passing out in the car in a bar parking lot.  I was too hung over to drive, so I asked Mack to drive my car - he came around a curve and a log truck crossed over the line and hit us.  Mack died in my arms out in the woods (all the nursing in the world and I couldn’t save him) He left a six year old, son without a mother or father (mom abandon him when he was 3 months old).  The entire community found out I was having an affair.  We were on the 5p and 6p news and front page of the local paper.  This is how Bryan found out of my affair.  I humiliated him publicly. 

With the help of a few friend nurses, from my hospital bed, I bought a house in town, where the kids and I moved.  Imagine the humiliation for the kids at school?  My son decided to go back to Bryan's "it wasn't Dad's fault and he shouldn't have to be alone".  My daughter stayed with me but spent all of her time at school, cheerleading, or with her boyfriend. Me...The death of Mack triggered also my first husband's (Scott) and my mother's death.  I sunk in to a depression that did not know how to crawl out of.  I got stuck in self-pity and the victim stage. 

When Bryan told me he wanted me and the kids back, as a family should be, I agreed.  He moved in my house (I was not welcomed on the family land anymore), and I resumed my duties as a wife but this time strictly by his rules.  Once again, I welcomed him to handle everything.  He didn't deserve that.  Despite our differences in beliefs of what marriage is, he is a good man - just not for me.  Boy did I pay. 

On May 3, 2001, after Bryan went to work, I snapped.  I called the kids and told them I was going to California to travel nurse for 6 weeks; I drove to the airport and flew to Los Angeles, CA, rented a car and went to Bakersfield.  Basically - I ran away from home. 

I filed for divorce in California - only one person has to sign there.  I was "starting my life over".  I was working hard, making money, and on a role 

It's all about me motto. 

I was drinking some and tried crystal meth a few times.  I came back to Mississippi to see the kids a few times, and I finally brought my son with me -he stayed for 6 months - his first semester of his senior year and but he went back home - he hated it there and hated my new boyfriend.  He wanted to be with his friends who he was raised with.  (How could my son leave me to go back to the school even though he was raised in a graduating class of 52 kids versus the Bakersfield graduating class of 2680 kids - was I really that selfish!! yep). 

My daughter was to transfer from Mississippi to U of Cali – “I” had it all set- two weeks before coming she called and said she wasn't leaving her boyfriend. (How could my daughter do this?  How could she forsake me by wanting to be with her boyfriend instead of me).  They all abandon me (oh brother, poor me).

That's all it took this addictive and selfish personality.  Not just with alcohol but with drugs, too.  It was on. 

I married again a man in Bakersfield after knowing him three months.  He got drunk on our honeymoon and shared his very, sick, demented dark side.  I left him at the Bed and Breakfast with all of his friends that he invited with us. 

Screw everyone! I bought an eight-ball of crystal meth at some bar - drove for two days stopping only for gas - spun out of my mind.  I got a tattoo on my back that says “FORSaken”.   (any good cover up artists out there?)

Finally, I stopped at a way side and lie there on a picnic table for hours and hours thinking of absolutely nothing.  My mind shut down.  Crystal Meth - I found my soul mate. 

I went back to Bakersfield, found an apartment, and started over.  I was living now.  TOP OF THE WORLD.

I spun in to a whirlwind of addiction.  First, meth in the coffee (the ladies way), snorting it (proper like), smoking it (big haze), then slamming it my goodness I wasn't like those needle junkies - I used proper nursing technique!!! Geez).

I did love my nursing.  Remember, “I was good at it”.  I rationalized using Meth by saying I never used while working, I was a (you know) social meth user, I changed needles every time, never shared them, I never hurt anyone.  (So I thought).  I was a Nurse Manager of a Level 1 Trauma Center for goodness sakes and people respected me (my arrogance). 

One day my entire life changed.  I got beat up by an OD patient and seriously injured.  I was out of work - full of Vicodin, Soma, any painkiller I wanted.  I liked money and workman's comp was not cutting it.   I sold and used Meth daily. I wasn't (you know) one of those scandalous corner drug dealers (not proper lady like me) - I sold only bulk to truck drivers - I was classy. TOP OF THE WORLD. 

Eventually, life started to blur all together - I've lost a lot of my memories-but this one I doubt I will ever forget - I got arrested and convicted, did time, lost my nursing career, went to a court appointed group home that had no 12 step program, was on probation - jumped probation and the group home after six months.  Precious me did not belong in a group home with 18 hardcore convicts. 

Jan 7, 2004.  I found NA.  I stayed in California. I did not want to come back to MS reliant on anyone. I wanted my kids to be proud.  I got a sponsor. I did my steps.  I worked the program.  I felt great.  I went to a meeting most every day, two and three times some days, volunteered in a H & I group, and went to functions. 

I moved back to Mississippi in July 2005.  I stopped going to NA.  I moved to a larger town - re-established my relationships with my kids, can't get my nursing license back due to my charges.  It hurts - I miss it - but life goes on. I've worked as a sober bartender (smart move, huh, but I was hungry) - picked up garbage after Mardi Gras Parades (which just so happened to be after the nursing float - humility at its finest) - construction clean up - painting houses - mudding and taping drywall - passed out fliers - cleaned roadway gutters –waitress (serving the nurses I used to supervise - suck it up soldier)& to drawing and photography.

Life, clean, has brought me happiness and a self-respect I never knew.  My children and granddaughters love me, and visit me often. 

Two years, two months, eleven days clean.  In that time, I have been able to re-establish my relationships with my daughter and son.  I am a NANA to three beautiful granddaughters which I baby sit every week, I own my own little mobile home (that I love), my own 1988 Monte Carlo Super Sport T-top - racing package car (my pride and my joy), I'm in a healthy relationship with a man, Richie - recovering addict clean date January 7, 2004 (his, too).  I made it.  TOP OF THE WORLD. 

I backslid March 18, 2006 and used three more times.  I now have eleven days clean.  THE FIGHT WAS NOT OVER!

Today, I don't have the urge to use; but, I am having difficulty shaking the disgust that I backslid. That's the hardest part. I am sickened by the reality of my addiction, my weakness and my arrogance.  I will be an addict until I die.   It does not go away. 

What I can do is learn how to stay a recovering addict.  And remember that what works, don't change.  I left NA when I moved back to Mississippi in July, 2005. Complacency???  TOP OF THE WORLD (kind of like I was the higher power??) 

Remember the definition of insanity - doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.

I am back, I am alive, I am not in prison, and I am clean today.

Richie, remained clean - he's being supportive.  But, I see the fear in his eyes.  I know that fear. 

So now begin again, this time, with much more knowledge, strength, and humility.

I went to the NA meeting in town at 8pm Tuesday (it’s the only one – once a week).  I spend a lot of time surfing the web searching for meetings online and nearby.

I pray.  I can't do this alone.

GOD bless all of you on your road to a clean life.  Don't give up, I'm not.  NA works.  I’m just scared.  This too shall pass.

Your NA friend,

KC James