First, here is a little history:
I have had anxiety since I was little. Some of my first memories are of panic attacks at the age of 3. My anxiety stemmed from my abusive home life and genetics. See, growing up my father was an alcoholic who had anger issues. He was abusive in every aspect of the word (minus sexually). This impacted the way I thought and felt. I was always in fight or flight mode when my father was around. This caused severe anxiety that is still present today. Now, I have been properly diagnosed with PTSD from the abuse. I have tools and medications to help cope, and a job that helps me understand my own family dynamic a little better (later on this topic).
I have had migraines since I was in elementary school. When I was in 5th grade I was put on Zoloft. After being on zoloft for a while my doctors thought that the medication could be the cause and switched me to a different medication (of which I can not remember the name). Anywho, flash forward to High School (2011). It was my senior year and my dentist and doctors diagnosed me with TMJ . A retainer was made for me to wear at night & I was prescribed muscle relaxers. None of this helped, the migraines continued to ravage my life. My doctor finally referred me to a specialist at the University of Michigan. I underwent x-rays and tests and my pain was finally justified. I have arthritis in both sides of my jaw and my migraines were finally given a treatment plan. I had an occipital nerve block performed, and was put on several migraine medications. The nerve block offered little to no relief and the side-effects from the medications were horrible. In 2011 I was prescribed Vicodin for my migraines and jaw pain. The drug worked wonderfully, maybe too well. I slowly became addicted and things went downhill fast from there.
I was going through my 30 day script in a week. While I was in withdrawal from the vicodin I would steal my dad's vicodin to get me through 'till the next refill. After awhile the vicodins weren't doing enough for me, so I started stealing my dad's oxy's. This went on for awhile until it escalated to the point where I was a full blown addict, stealing almost full prescriptions from my dad. I ended up in rehab 2x. The first time I left treatment ama (against medical advice). I went to NA meetings, back at home, but never stuck with it. I did keep sober for a few months, but I then discovered how to pick locks. My dad had locked away all his medication in his office. I would break in and steal pills for my next fix. Things escalated and I hit rock bottom. I hit rock bottom hard (I will go into this story more, in the future). In late November of 2015 I finally had enough. I knew I needed help & I actually wanted help, this time. I went back to rehab and spent about a month there and another 2 months in 2 different sober living houses. I have been sober from opiates since December 2, 2015. I don't go to NA meetings, anymore, but I'm doing so much better than before thanks to therapy and my support system.
In July of 2014 I was raped by my (at the time) boyfriend. I'm not going to get into much detail with this topic right now, but I will in the future. The rape contributed to my downfall with addiction.
My little sister was incarcerated in May of 2015. I will not go into the reasons why (that is her story to tell, not mine). She will be getting out in the next year or so, hopefully.
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So, there we have the downfall of Courtney. In my next post I will write about how my life has improved so drastically in less than a year.
--Courtney
P.S. Remember you are not alone.
