I am just like you

CW: Substance abuse, sexual assault

I am Just Like You

Short Story by Paula Badder

I am just like you…

I spend time with loved ones, I go to work to my full time office job where I have responsibilities and

work with Doctors, Professors, Psychiatrists, Sociologists, Social Workers, Law Enforcement Trainees

and Emergency Services Trainees, I do the weekly food shop, I cook dinner, I pack up the daily snap,

I do chores, I shower, I watch videos, I watch films, and TV, I read, I listen to music and I sleep. I lie

awake wondering what my future holds. Most people have their ducks in a row by 45. Mine, it would

seem have yet to hatch.

From reading this short personal statement, from the outside looking in, you might think things

seem normal and run of the mill; others might consider this to be a bit boring…

However, there is another side to me that is not so vanilla and mundane, and this is where things get

somewhat chaotic and dark.

I am just like you

Although….

I lurk down dark allies grasping hold of how ever much money I can afford to spend that day, ready

to come face to face with my dealer who sells me my medicine in the most dangerous suburb of

town. I don’t currently have a car so I’m not fortunate enough to have the privilege of a layer of a

metal barrier to offer a little protection.

Once sorted, I go home, make a cup of tea, change into my PJs, grab my foil and my pipe and settle

in for another night of hard drugs and oblivion.

I would never have been enlightened with the gift of consciousness had I not been given the

opportunity of attending Residential Rehab for 18 months in 2008. I stayed clean for 9 years. The

best 9 years of my life. Spent with the love of my life, my career took off, I had abilities and talents I

had no idea about, I flew through promotions and pay rises. Me and my partner went on holidays I

could only ever dream of, I was independent with my little car, a wardrobe that made me feel a

million dollars but above all that, all the financial elation and shallow nonsense, I felt like my family

had respect and love for me again for the first time in years.

I didn’t realise back then however, that their love was superficial and conditional.

I didn’t know what guilt really felt like until I relapsed.

It took a while for things to fall apart again, but when I fell, I fell harder and deeper than ever. It

started with finding myself being very creative and elaborate with the truth. I wasn’t asking for

money yet, but I could feel myself being slowly sucked into the vacuum of addiction once again and I

recognised the feeling. I was terrified. I called my Mum, I still remember the call I made, it was in

2016 and I said I didn’t want anything, all I wanted was support and that is exactly what I told her.

This was the wrong choice of words as I think this was the moment, she clicked that something had

seriously changed. The unravelling began.

You see when you are an addict, you do not realise that you whole demeaner, character, personality,

actions, speech, response times, contact frequency, social interest and reliability diminishes, along

with your self-worth, confidence, attention to personal appearance is no longer a priority.

I don’t mind admitting that I felt attractive, for the first time in years when I came out of rehab. I was

a healthy size 8, as appose to a junkie size 8. Going into rehab, I was a size 14, due to the medication

I was prescribed and the additional illicit drugs I threw down my neck to slow down my whole body.

On exit from rehab, the confidence I had inside my body shone through, and I felt bloody good.

Slowly I got back in touch with old contacts, my downfall or “gateway” was taking Valium after going

out. My double-life was starting to gain on me. I remember one morning not being able to walk on

the footpath without falling into the wall. I had taken a handful of Lorazepam… a very strong benzo

to those who are unfamiliar. I don’t know why I felt the need to take so many, but like I said, I was

unravelling.

I held a Managerial job at this time, and I had a team to manage, to be clearer, managing not only

the people but also the functionality of the team and day to day processes.

When I applied, I was not yet in the grip of the talons of addiction and I was still feeling confident

and strong however once I started my new job, the task was to interject some professional expertise

into the functional direction of the team and also manage the staff in their personal development,

meaning appraisals, one to ones, professional guidance, but how on earth can I direct and lead a

team when I myself am lost?

I had to leave. My boss caught me calling her a bitch out loud – I guess the reason was valid.

Things went from bad to worse really until I ended up in full blown relapse, selling all my

possessions, including my car, but not before being sexually assaulted by a big black man in my own

car for a good hour, but hey, it comes with the territory, right? tapping up money in the streets

(ironically the streets I used to name in my job), down the food bank and getting as many snowballs

in my veins as I possibly could. Putting myself in dangerous situations for as little as a tenner.

Things got rough and so something had to give. Cutting a long story short, we ended up moving back

to our hometown, in with my partners sister as a short-term solution, although this lasted 18

months! We did pay our way though whilst there. Our intention was to move home, both get good

jobs at the universities and get our flat. All this we accomplished. We are strong and determined

when we need to be.

Although, with this comes an issue, with work comes a salary, a monthly lump sum and if you are not

controlled and do not have boundaries, things go to shit very quickly.

Luckily, our priority is and has always been to pay our rent before anything and this is what we have

stuck to as we needed a roof to keep stable jobs.

Now, this is where the improvement could slowly start to make an appearance and we can turn

things around, however when you are an addict, things are often not that easy and straight forward.

Firstly, there is the trigger “the reward” – this is something that you feel you deserve after

completing another day doing the thing that you should be doing and being normal (i.e going to

work) to normal people, this would be a drink, a spliff, sex anything addictive. If you manage to get

through the day without “the reward” then I promise you, this will be twice as hard tomorrow

because now you have got through 2 days.

People advise to spend your money on other things, which I did when I got clean for 9 years and I

became so addicted to buying clothes, I had to declare myself bankrupt as I had spent £27,000 on

clothes.

Currently, this is my routine, I get paid, I fill the cupboards with food. I pay all the bills and anything

else that needs to be paid so we don’t have anything hanging over us. What we have left is what we

can play with. I say this with a heavy heart as I would love nothing more than to save money, move,

buy a car and have a dog. These things are not difficult to achieve, but to people like us they seem

like a mountain.

Work is very difficult as I must seem normal no matter how I am feeling. A script of methadone is a

life saver so I don’t often withdraw, but I also have an erratic addiction to benzodiazepines, these

are not from the doctor, I get these elsewhere, but I am one of these people where I can just take

one tablet and you are able to see it all over my face that I am high. My work quality also suffers, I

am slower, and my any sense will often escape my sentences.

I try not to take these at work, but they do make the day go a lot faster, they make it far more

enjoyable, and my social anxiety seems to lay dormant for a few hours which is absolute bliss,

especially when you have to attend meetings and be “involved”. Always, at the back of my mind

though I have the words that I have carried with me since rehab – to see myself how others see me,

and this terrifies me.

I do have an amazing manager who gives me more chances that I deserve. She knows I have issues; I

don’t believe she is aware to what level – I mean let’s be honest, most class A committed drug users

do not have full time careers.

However, the reason I am writing this is because I believe that there are a lot of people out there

doing what I am doing or very similar. I think that there are a lot of sufferers who are trying to hold

down a full-time job, maybe even have children and trying to trick the world from the outside

looking in that all is well when in fact this could not be further from the truth.

I try everyday to be so normal and on top of my game, I am a friendly person (as I have been told)

and I put this down to life experience. I am the least judgmental person you will come across as it is

true what they say, you just do not know what people are going through so be kind.

I want to give back one day, help people like me like those who have been so selfless to help me

over the years, only for me to relapse, take advantage, manipulate, lie and generally be a horrible

person. Not me. This is not me.

I want to be just like you… again, I know I can do it, I have done it before. Only this time is different

as I want to help others, I am sure there are thousands out there living double lives, trying to be

normal and act all as though all is well, going to work, dropping kids at school only to get home and

get on it, whether its once the kids are in bed or the first thing they do when they get home, I have

lived it 1000 times over, only to wake up and pretend all over again wondering how on earth I am

going to get out of this situation this time. All those chances I blew and now I finally really want it, it

seems harder than ever.

But I will be just like you again, and I will be advising you how I did it so you can too. That’s a promise.