Alcohol and sedative addiction: Seeking advice/support

Greetings to all you lovely lunatics—I’ve been lurking here for quite a while now... what, since I was sixteen? I'm twenty-three today. Currently, I’m navigating my way through college, dealing with a rather dysfunctional family dynamic. To be clear, there hasn't been any physical violence—thank goodness—but the core values in our household are incredibly warped. It’s essentially a domino effect—once the traditional roles within the family start to shift out of alignment, everything else follows suit.

I have always been a bit of an outlier—a bit of a misfit, if you will—and growing up, alcohol was never viewed as a true villain in my household. It was just part of the fabric of life, much like how certain habits are deeply ingrained in many traditional American families. My grandfathers were all heavy drinkers, and as for my father... well, I often wonder if he might have found more fulfillment in life had he chosen a different path.

During my teenage years, I went through an incredibly intense period of emotional turbulence—the kind of stress that feels almost impossible to process. Rather than facing it head-on, I tended to suppress everything. I found myself throwing all my energy into schoolwork and extracurricular activities just to keep my head above water, though even that couldn't quite mask the several heavy depressive episodes I endured. Eventually, I sought help from a psychologist—not a private specialist, but someone through a public clinic—who provided me with therapy. Once things finally started looking up and I felt more stable, I decided to stop the treatment sessions. 🙄

Years after that period—despite having achieved academic success and facing a promising career path ahead—I find myself back on Sertraline. A few months ago, I reached a breaking point and attempted suicide; I only reconsidered at the very last second—not necessarily for my own sake, but because I couldn't bear the thought of the immense suffering it would inflict on my mother. Following that crisis, I returned to my psychiatrist, who has since increased my dosage to 125 mg of Sertraline daily.

Because my core values and outlook on life have shifted so drastically, I find myself completely unable to maintain any kind of emotional connection. It all traces back to the first one—the relationship that truly broke me—and ever since then, there has been nothing. It has been eight years now. For some reason, I find myself instinctively pushing men away, even though I am an attractive woman with a very strong drive.

Please forgive me for such an extensive introduction—I realize it’s a bit much—but I felt it was necessary to provide more context so you all can truly grasp the nuances of the situation at hand.

The issue I am addressing here concerns an escalating dependency on both alcohol and diazepam. My history with drinking began back in high school—mostly just social drinking when going out, which felt relatively standard and wasn't particularly serious at the time. However, over the last... well, I can't say for certain, perhaps eighteen months or even two years, I have transitioned into consuming alcohol every single night. There were the occasional instances where I didn't drink—usually after an incredibly grueling shift at work where exhaustion simply knocked me out—but primarily, I rely on alcohol to help me drift off. That was my justification in the beginning—a sort of mental crutch—but the truth is simpler: I genuinely enjoy it. In fact, I enjoy it more than almost anything else in the world. As my tolerance has steadily climbed, my physician prescribed some Valium for me—and naturally, I began taking them alongside the alcohol. That sensation of being completely intoxicated—it is truly indescribable. My current objective is to sustain that state for as long as humanly possible. Just a few days ago, I consumed over half a liter of beer while simultaneously taking four 10 mg doses of Valium—spaced out by about an hour each. When I step back and look at the math, I’ve ingested 40 mg of medication plus alcohol; I cannot even begin to fathom the toll this is taking on my liver, especially considering my body weight is only about 110 pounds.

As I sit here typing this to you all—currently resting at a mere 1.0 on the Normabel scale—I’ve already polished off about 0.3 liters of beer; however, I fully intend to grab another round shortly, as the beverage is certainly doing its job of getting things moving!🙄

The core issue—and this is difficult to articulate—is that I’ve realized my cognitive functions are slipping, leaving me with absolutely no drive for anything at all. It used to be that a single midterm would send me into a complete frenzy... but now? I am nearing the end of my degree at State University, facing one final, crucial exam tomorrow that requires serious focus, yet I know nothing. To make matters worse, I’ve been lying to my family, telling them I’ve been studying for months when I haven't even started. I lack any sense of motivation; I have no idea what I want from life, no clear direction—even though I used to be so goal-oriented. If there is a silver lining to this state of being, it is that I am no longer as deeply depressed as I once was. I have reached a sort of grim acceptance regarding my own existence—a realization that I simply cannot take my own life—and nothing seems to rattle me anymore. I don't perceive risk in anything; everything feels... flat. When bad news hits, my only response is, "Well, that's just how it is," or "It will work out; it has to." Instead of spiraling, I just drift right back into the emptiness in my head. In the past, I could never achieve this kind of detachment without trying—but now, it happens effortlessly. I can just stare at a pencil for hours on end, completely unburdened by thought.

The core of my struggle—and it is quite a significant hurdle—is that I simply cannot find the willpower to focus or engage with the material. To be perfectly honest, the subject matter itself fails to capture my interest; I have serious doubts about whether I will ever pursue this field in my professional life—it just doesn't resonate with me. However, I am in a bit of a bind—I really ought to sit for this final exam at least to satisfy my parents and get it over with—but even that feels like an insurmountable task right now. I am just completely stuck.

If anyone happens to have some advice to share—please, don't hold back—I'd certainly appreciate it. As for me, I'm heading out for another Bud Light and a protein bar 🎉

Jack Perez3 said:Greetings to all you lovely lunatics—I’ve been lurking here for quite a while now... what, since I was sixteen? I'm twenty-three today. Currently, I’m navigating my way through college, dealing with a rather dysfunctional family dynamic. To be clear, there hasn't been any physical violence—thank goodness—but the core values in our household are incredibly warped. It’s essentially a domino effect—once the traditional roles within the family start to shift out of alignment, everything else follows suit.

I have always been a bit of an outlier—a bit of a misfit, if you will—and growing up, alcohol was never viewed as a true villain in my household. It was just part of the fabric of life, much like how certain habits are deeply ingrained in many traditional American families. My grandfathers were all heavy drinkers, and as for my father... well, I often wonder if he might have found more fulfillment in life had he chosen a different path.

During my teenage years, I went through an incredibly intense period of emotional turbulence—the kind of stress that feels almost impossible to process. Rather than facing it head-on, I tended to suppress everything. I found myself throwing all my energy into schoolwork and extracurricular activities just to keep my head above water, though even that couldn't quite mask the several heavy depressive episodes I endured. Eventually, I sought help from a psychologist—not a private specialist, but someone through a public clinic—who provided me with therapy. Once things finally started looking up and I felt more stable, I decided to stop the treatment sessions. 🙄

Years after that period—despite having achieved academic success and facing a promising career path ahead—I find myself back on Sertraline. A few months ago, I reached a breaking point and attempted suicide; I only reconsidered at the very last second—not necessarily for my own sake, but because I couldn't bear the thought of the immense suffering it would inflict on my mother. Following that crisis, I returned to my psychiatrist, who has since increased my dosage to 125 mg of Sertraline daily.

Because my core values and outlook on life have shifted so drastically, I find myself completely unable to maintain any kind of emotional connection. It all traces back to the first one—the relationship that truly broke me—and ever since then, there has been nothing. It has been eight years now. For some reason, I find myself instinctively pushing men away, even though I am an attractive woman with a very strong drive.

Please forgive me for such an extensive introduction—I realize it’s a bit much—but I felt it was necessary to provide more context so you all can truly grasp the nuances of the situation at hand.

The issue I am addressing here concerns an escalating dependency on both alcohol and diazepam. My history with drinking began back in high school—mostly just social drinking when going out, which felt relatively standard and wasn't particularly serious at the time. However, over the last... well, I can't say for certain, perhaps eighteen months or even two years, I have transitioned into consuming alcohol every single night. There were the occasional instances where I didn't drink—usually after an incredibly grueling shift at work where exhaustion simply knocked me out—but primarily, I rely on alcohol to help me drift off. That was my justification in the beginning—a sort of mental crutch—but the truth is simpler: I genuinely enjoy it. In fact, I enjoy it more than almost anything else in the world. As my tolerance has steadily climbed, my physician prescribed some Valium for me—and naturally, I began taking them alongside the alcohol. That sensation of being completely intoxicated—it is truly indescribable. My current objective is to sustain that state for as long as humanly possible. Just a few days ago, I consumed over half a liter of beer while simultaneously taking four 10 mg doses of Valium—spaced out by about an hour each. When I step back and look at the math, I’ve ingested 40 mg of medication plus alcohol; I cannot even begin to fathom the toll this is taking on my liver, especially considering my body weight is only about 110 pounds.

As I sit here typing this to you all—currently resting at a mere 1.0 on the Normabel scale—I’ve already polished off about 0.3 liters of beer; however, I fully intend to grab another round shortly, as the beverage is certainly doing its job of getting things moving!🙄

The core issue—and this is difficult to articulate—is that I’ve realized my cognitive functions are slipping, leaving me with absolutely no drive for anything at all. It used to be that a single midterm would send me into a complete frenzy... but now? I am nearing the end of my degree at State University, facing one final, crucial exam tomorrow that requires serious focus, yet I know nothing. To make matters worse, I’ve been lying to my family, telling them I’ve been studying for months when I haven't even started. I lack any sense of motivation; I have no idea what I want from life, no clear direction—even though I used to be so goal-oriented. If there is a silver lining to this state of being, it is that I am no longer as deeply depressed as I once was. I have reached a sort of grim acceptance regarding my own existence—a realization that I simply cannot take my own life—and nothing seems to rattle me anymore. I don't perceive risk in anything; everything feels... flat. When bad news hits, my only response is, "Well, that's just how it is," or "It will work out; it has to." Instead of spiraling, I just drift right back into the emptiness in my head. In the past, I could never achieve this kind of detachment without trying—but now, it happens effortlessly. I can just stare at a pencil for hours on end, completely unburdened by thought.

The core of my struggle—and it is quite a significant hurdle—is that I simply cannot find the willpower to focus or engage with the material. To be perfectly honest, the subject matter itself fails to capture my interest; I have serious doubts about whether I will ever pursue this field in my professional life—it just doesn't resonate with me. However, I am in a bit of a bind—I really ought to sit for this final exam at least to satisfy my parents and get it over with—but even that feels like an insurmountable task right now. I am just completely stuck.

If anyone happens to have some advice to share—please, don't hold back—I'd certainly appreciate it. As for me, I'm heading out for another Bud Light and a protein bar 🎉

Just try heroin.
It'll be your first, last, and only true love at first sight. [honestly+satire alert]
Until everything snaps..........

The silver lining is that I'm not feeling as depressed anymore. I've basically made peace with the fact that I can't kill myself, and nothing really gets under my skin anymore. Nothing shakes me. I don't see any risk in anything; everything just feels... flat. When I hear bad news, I'm just like, whatever, it is what it is... it'll work out, it has to. I don't even think about it anymore; I just go back to the emptiness in my head.

Try looking at it as just a phase of being "numb."
How is it that all this wasted time, these missed opportunities and decisions... within this "numbness"... all these fake, accumulated problems... could actually be the trigger for those feelings to come rushing back? And not the good kind. Especially if, during that turning point, you're stuck without an immediate way out... that "numbness" and "lack of thought" could turn into pure hysteria, filled with all those suppressed, obsessive, dark thoughts. A state where that thing you couldn't do yesterday—like wanting to end it—feels distant and foreign, like it never existed. A moment where a razor blade [or maybe... pills, before... 😬] might stop being a best friend... and become a reality you can't control, or even want to control within your "normal boundaries"... A "moment" where you aren't thinking... you're just acting?

My biggest issue is that I have zero willpower to focus or study. I'm not even interested in my major and I doubt I'll ever work in this field, but I need to pass this one final exam just for my parents' sake and then I'm done. But I can't even manage that...

Living for anyone else or doing things just to please someone... making sacrifices against your own will... or just letting life roll in whatever direction it wants... that's a surefire way to lose yourself. And once you're gone, it's incredibly hard, if not impossible, to find that person again. To even find a starting point; to find where that "self"—the one with drive, desire, or interest—could even exist. If that version of you that was capable of caring, that lived by its own rules, vanishes... you might just freeze it out forever. You get caught in a vicious cycle where you can't even realize you didn't just leave, but were pushed away, erased, or denied....... completely lost.

If anyone’s got some advice, just throw it out there. I'm heading out to grab another beer and a protein bar 🎉

Try hanging out with yourself for once. Actually talk to yourself. Stop fighting everything or running away, hiding behind some distorted lens to see what you want to see. When you mix flirting with beers and booze... your liver might end up being the least of your problems. Through all that mental fog... you could drift way, way off course... toward the end... instead of where you actually need to be... back at the start.......

Maybe not. Maybe you're exactly where you're supposed to be [grinding, working, pushing..].
Not a thought worth tossing out just yet... I guess..

I stumbled upon this thread through the active topics list, so please bear with me if my vocabulary isn't quite up to par with the technicality of this PDF.
As I read through these sections regarding "distorted values," a thought occurs to me—aha, just your typical average American family. A household where parents struggle through much harder times, only to reserve a better life for their children. Children who don't possess even a fraction of the experiences their parents endured, yet they hold the privilege of measuring everything by their own standards from a safe distance. They have this luxury because their parents sacrificed what little they had during their youth just to provide it.
But then again, that isn't really your problem; it’s just an explanation for why there is such a disconnect.
It is also an escape from responsibility.
When you actually attempt to do something, there is a massive chance you will fail.
And you will find that you are the one to blame.
In today's hyper-individualistic society, taking ownership is considered a duty, an obligation, a privilege, and an ideal.
However, not everyone is operating at that level.
Generally speaking, people find it much easier not to think too deeply. So, even though people living two hundred years ago survived without automatic doors, escalators, life insurance, or central heating... the vast majority lived relatively regulated lives. They knew from the start what they were going to do, they knew relatively early on who they would marry, and they had as many children as God saw fit.
Your current situation isn't the result of "distorted values" within your family. Every single family is distorted. Even those perfect families having Sunday dinner in the suburbs. Every single one.
Your situation is simply the result of loneliness, freedom, and an unwillingness to deal with them.
Everything seems fine as long as you are doing what is expected of you—passing exams, showing up to school—but once it is time to show your true face, to reveal what *you* actually want and transition into adulthood... that is when that one single exam remains unpassed.
You have lived for a very long time inside your own bubble, and inside that bubble, there is no one left to challenge the child within you (though we all need to maintain that inner child). You have silenced the voices that used to push back against you with alcohol and Xanax.
You have to learn how to hear them again.
And that requires making a decision.
Which is exactly what you are so, so afraid of.
If you decide to truly live, you will have to jump into the deep end without a life jacket.
If you don't, well, the liver has its limits, and its lifespan is inversely proportional to how much you overtax its capacity.
You need support, whether it's over the phone or any other kind—just like anyone else struggling with addiction.
Within the family, well, I don't know... it feels to me like your mother is already reaching her breaking point, and you can't really expect anything from your father. In that case, try doing it on your own (and if you can't, then do it with both of them—distribute the burden between them, regardless of what you expect from either one).
And finally—it all comes down to you. To your decision. Truly.
An unconscious or dead person is much harder to carry than someone who is awake and aware. Everyone else can play a bigger or smaller role in helping you recover, but you alone hold the deciding vote.

Frank Thomas92 said:I stumbled upon this thread through the active topics list, so please bear with me if my vocabulary isn't quite up to par with the technicality of this PDF.
As I read through these sections regarding "distorted values," a thought occurs to me—aha, just your typical average American family. A household where parents struggle through much harder times, only to reserve a better life for their children. Children who don't possess even a fraction of the experiences their parents endured, yet they hold the privilege of measuring everything by their own standards from a safe distance. They have this luxury because their parents sacrificed what little they had during their youth just to provide it.
But then again, that isn't really your problem; it’s just an explanation for why there is such a disconnect.
It is also an escape from responsibility.
When you actually attempt to do something, there is a massive chance you will fail.
And you will find that you are the one to blame.
In today's hyper-individualistic society, taking ownership is considered a duty, an obligation, a privilege, and an ideal.
However, not everyone is operating at that level.
Generally speaking, people find it much easier not to think too deeply. So, even though people living two hundred years ago survived without automatic doors, escalators, life insurance, or central heating... the vast majority lived relatively regulated lives. They knew from the start what they were going to do, they knew relatively early on who they would marry, and they had as many children as God saw fit.
Your current situation isn't the result of "distorted values" within your family. Every single family is distorted. Even those perfect families having Sunday dinner in the suburbs. Every single one.
Your situation is simply the result of loneliness, freedom, and an unwillingness to deal with them.
Everything seems fine as long as you are doing what is expected of you—passing exams, showing up to school—but once it is time to show your true face, to reveal what *you* actually want and transition into adulthood... that is when that one single exam remains unpassed.
You have lived for a very long time inside your own bubble, and inside that bubble, there is no one left to challenge the child within you (though we all need to maintain that inner child). You have silenced the voices that used to push back against you with alcohol and Xanax.
You have to learn how to hear them again.
And that requires making a decision.
Which is exactly what you are so, so afraid of.
If you decide to truly live, you will have to jump into the deep end without a life jacket.
If you don't, well, the liver has its limits, and its lifespan is inversely proportional to how much you overtax its capacity.
You need support, whether it's over the phone or any other kind—just like anyone else struggling with addiction.
Within the family, well, I don't know... it feels to me like your mother is already reaching her breaking point, and you can't really expect anything from your father. In that case, try doing it on your own (and if you can't, then do it with both of them—distribute the burden between them, regardless of what you expect from either one).
And finally—it all comes down to you. To your decision. Truly.
An unconscious or dead person is much harder to carry than someone who is awake and aware. Everyone else can play a bigger or smaller role in helping you recover, but you alone hold the deciding vote.

I’d sign off on pretty much anything... except I can't decide which one.
Since it's basically just choosing how to numb the brain and soul.
Sometimes you feel like you've got perfect vision, but you're actually totally blind. You don't want anyone—literally anybody—to turn you around or point you toward some XYZ destination. In the middle of all this buzzing noise, where everyone is just going through the motions... sometimes it feels like nobody sees you. Not even really. It's more like following some gut instinct toward the light... quietly screaming for someone in the swarm to just point the way to where things make sense. Where things actually belong. No matter how much of a contradiction that sounds; it's just an excuse to run, to forget, to get away. The cost doesn't even matter then. Delaying the bill just makes the service feel realer.
The end goal is obvious. Everyone pays the toll, depending on how far they choose to go... while the trip is still a rush. Bouncing around some backroad, hitting a flat tire in the middle of nowhere without a spare... maybe a glass of plain, cold water finally tastes like something for the first time. There’s nothing crazier than trying too hard to "be someone" or "stay grounded"... in something "rational" or "normal." While waiting for that "better version of myself" to show up at some imaginary finish line, you completely miss the fact that you aren't even there right now.

Frank Thomas92 said:I stumbled upon this thread through the active topics list, so please bear with me if my vocabulary isn't quite up to par with the technicality of this PDF.
As I read through these sections regarding "distorted values," a thought occurs to me—aha, just your typical average American family. A household where parents struggle through much harder times, only to reserve a better life for their children. Children who don't possess even a fraction of the experiences their parents endured, yet they hold the privilege of measuring everything by their own standards from a safe distance. They have this luxury because their parents sacrificed what little they had during their youth just to provide it.
But then again, that isn't really your problem; it’s just an explanation for why there is such a disconnect.
It is also an escape from responsibility.
When you actually attempt to do something, there is a massive chance you will fail.
And you will find that you are the one to blame.
In today's hyper-individualistic society, taking ownership is considered a duty, an obligation, a privilege, and an ideal.
However, not everyone is operating at that level.
Generally speaking, people find it much easier not to think too deeply. So, even though people living two hundred years ago survived without automatic doors, escalators, life insurance, or central heating... the vast majority lived relatively regulated lives. They knew from the start what they were going to do, they knew relatively early on who they would marry, and they had as many children as God saw fit.
Your current situation isn't the result of "distorted values" within your family. Every single family is distorted. Even those perfect families having Sunday dinner in the suburbs. Every single one.
Your situation is simply the result of loneliness, freedom, and an unwillingness to deal with them.
Everything seems fine as long as you are doing what is expected of you—passing exams, showing up to school—but once it is time to show your true face, to reveal what *you* actually want and transition into adulthood... that is when that one single exam remains unpassed.
You have lived for a very long time inside your own bubble, and inside that bubble, there is no one left to challenge the child within you (though we all need to maintain that inner child). You have silenced the voices that used to push back against you with alcohol and Xanax.
You have to learn how to hear them again.
And that requires making a decision.
Which is exactly what you are so, so afraid of.
If you decide to truly live, you will have to jump into the deep end without a life jacket.
If you don't, well, the liver has its limits, and its lifespan is inversely proportional to how much you overtax its capacity.
You need support, whether it's over the phone or any other kind—just like anyone else struggling with addiction.
Within the family, well, I don't know... it feels to me like your mother is already reaching her breaking point, and you can't really expect anything from your father. In that case, try doing it on your own (and if you can't, then do it with both of them—distribute the burden between them, regardless of what you expect from either one).
And finally—it all comes down to you. To your decision. Truly.
An unconscious or dead person is much harder to carry than someone who is awake and aware. Everyone else can play a bigger or smaller role in helping you recover, but you alone hold the deciding vote.

That bolded part is totally wrong...
There's a massive difference between functional and dysfunctional families, just like there's a huge gap between kids who grew up with healthy self-esteem and those who didn't.
Growing up in a home with alcoholism is traumatic, period. Kids don't have the capacity to handle a dysfunctional parent, let alone step up and take over their role in the house. If they try to do that, it leaves deep scars on their psyche. Kids can't be held responsible for not knowing how to deal with domestic violence, addiction, or being belittled, nor can they be blamed for picking up the toxic patterns from their home. They just learn from what's available to them—that was their entire world...

To the author...
It honestly breaks my heart reading your post. Mostly because I know how much crap you had to deal with as a kid—stuff you never should have faced—and now, as a young woman who should be starting her own life after such a rough childhood, it feels like you haven't learned anything... you've just absorbed those bad habits without questioning them. Actually, it goes deeper than that—you seem so vulnerable and dependent that you turned to booze and pills just to escape a reality that hurts too much to face.
It's way easier to run through the exit door than to admit you're struggling and feel inadequate, unable to handle life. You have to grit your teeth and spend years working on yourself, relentlessly, to fix those dark patterns and the way you view yourself...

You're really hurting yourself here, and I hope you realize that—which is probably why you're even posting this.
Do whatever it takes to get clean and stay away from alcohol for the rest of your life if you have to. Grit your teeth and admit what's actually bothering you, what you're afraid of, and what parts of your life are for YOU versus what's just for OTHER PEOPLE.
Once you have that realization—which takes a lot of willpower and time—you'll finally be ready to do the work. As an addict, as someone disconnected from themselves and running from the truth, you aren't moving an inch... you've been spinning your wheels for years, and if I'm being honest, you're sinking deeper into the mud.
You're on your own, which makes things harder, but you've gotta pull together whatever strength you have left and start fixing this. No one is going to do it for you, and if things end badly—if you end up homeless, a junkie, or worse—nobody's really going to care, first or last...
I'm being a bit blunt, but I think you need to hear it... you're letting too much happen to you...

ironrider11 said:I’d sign off on pretty much anything... except I can't decide which one.
Since it's basically just choosing how to numb the brain and soul.
Sometimes you feel like you've got perfect vision, but you're actually totally blind. You don't want anyone—literally anybody—to turn you around or point you toward some XYZ destination. In the middle of all this buzzing noise, where everyone is just going through the motions... sometimes it feels like nobody sees you. Not even really. It's more like following some gut instinct toward the light... quietly screaming for someone in the swarm to just point the way to where things make sense. Where things actually belong. No matter how much of a contradiction that sounds; it's just an excuse to run, to forget, to get away. The cost doesn't even matter then. Delaying the bill just makes the service feel realer.
The end goal is obvious. Everyone pays the toll, depending on how far they choose to go... while the trip is still a rush. Bouncing around some backroad, hitting a flat tire in the middle of nowhere without a spare... maybe a glass of plain, cold water finally tastes like something for the first time. There’s nothing crazier than trying too hard to "be someone" or "stay grounded"... in something "rational" or "normal." While waiting for that "better version of myself" to show up at some imaginary finish line, you completely miss the fact that you aren't even there right now.

To live, to taste the consequences, to mess up, to send things the wrong way, to never finish college, to finish it... to just be yourself.

Donna White50 said:That bolded part is totally wrong...
There's a massive difference between functional and dysfunctional families, just like there's a huge gap between kids who grew up with healthy self-esteem and those who didn't.
Growing up in a home with alcoholism is traumatic, period. Kids don't have the capacity to handle a dysfunctional parent, let alone step up and take over their role in the house. If they try to do that, it leaves deep scars on their psyche. Kids can't be held responsible for not knowing how to deal with domestic violence, addiction, or being belittled, nor can they be blamed for picking up the toxic patterns from their home. They just learn from what's available to them—that was their entire world...

To the author...
It honestly breaks my heart reading your post. Mostly because I know how much crap you had to deal with as a kid—stuff you never should have faced—and now, as a young woman who should be starting her own life after such a rough childhood, it feels like you haven't learned anything... you've just absorbed those bad habits without questioning them. Actually, it goes deeper than that—you seem so vulnerable and dependent that you turned to booze and pills just to escape a reality that hurts too much to face.
It's way easier to run through the exit door than to admit you're struggling and feel inadequate, unable to handle life. You have to grit your teeth and spend years working on yourself, relentlessly, to fix those dark patterns and the way you view yourself...

You're really hurting yourself here, and I hope you realize that—which is probably why you're even posting this.
Do whatever it takes to get clean and stay away from alcohol for the rest of your life if you have to. Grit your teeth and admit what's actually bothering you, what you're afraid of, and what parts of your life are for YOU versus what's just for OTHER PEOPLE.
Once you have that realization—which takes a lot of willpower and time—you'll finally be ready to do the work. As an addict, as someone disconnected from themselves and running from the truth, you aren't moving an inch... you've been spinning your wheels for years, and if I'm being honest, you're sinking deeper into the mud.
You're on your own, which makes things harder, but you've gotta pull together whatever strength you have left and start fixing this. No one is going to do it for you, and if things end badly—if you end up homeless, a junkie, or worse—nobody's really going to care, first or last...
I'm being a bit blunt, but I think you need to hear it... you're letting too much happen to you...

Do you know why I don't think it was a mistake?
I truly believe she finally understands what real values look like now. It’s a complete departure from her parents, who honestly never quite grasped them. Don't you agree?
And now, she—the one who really ought to know better than anyone else—where on earth could she be?
If she were to have a baby right now—nine months from today—what would that child eventually say about her? It’s a heavy question, isn't it? I can't help but sit here and wonder what kind of legacy one builds in such a short span of time. When you look at the profound impact a parent has on a developing soul, you realize that a child doesn't just see who you are today; they inherit the essence of everything you've worked for. If this happened today, that child would grow up looking back at her life and describing someone who was perhaps still finding her footing, yet deeply committed to the journey ahead. It makes me think of how we all strive to leave something meaningful behind, even when the timeline feels incredibly compressed.
She knows deep down that things aren't right. She can feel that something is fundamentally broken, and frankly, she wants better. It’s about more than just her own life, too—she wants to build a future that actually means something for her child.
I honestly believe people are far too judgmental when it comes to evaluating parents. If you ask me, there are significantly fewer functional families out there than there are functional individuals. I’d go as far as to say that a "factory error" in the form of a parent is almost a statistical certainty within the entire production cycle of society—it's practically baked into the process. As for those who grow up without any family structure at all? Well, that’s an entirely different category altogether.
I’ve been following your posts, and I have to say, you strike me as someone who holds everyone—including your own parents—to an incredibly punishing standard. You seem so intensely uncompromising that I suspect you wouldn't even be able to stomach the messy, imperfect reality of raising a child. If I’m reading you correctly, it feels like you've made the choice to stay childless simply because you couldn't bear to deal with the lack of perfection.
Rigidity is a trap, plain and simple. Life is far too unpredictable and chaotic to be governed by such stubbornness, and if we’re being honest with ourselves, most of us aren't nearly as resilient as we like to pretend. We're all a bit more fragile than we care to admit.
Honestly, you just have to learn how to live with that kind of weakness. It’s one of those things you can't just wish away; you just have to adapt and find a way to manage around it.
Look, if I have to completely blow off my entire degree—toss aside a profession I have absolutely zero interest in pursuing—just to stay behind and retake a single exam... then so be it. Honestly, I wouldn't be the first person to do it, and I certainly won't be the last.
We all know someone who’s stuck in that perpetual state of "almost." You know the type—they’ve got one final exam left to pass, or maybe they just need to turn in that last thesis paper, yet somehow, years go by and they never actually cross the finish line. It’s a common phenomenon in our academic circles. But honestly, if you look closely, the way people handle that limbo varies wildly. Some of them seem perfectly content, living their lives without ever needing that piece of paper, almost as if they’ve found a strange kind of freedom in it. Others, however, carry it like a heavy weight, haunted by the thought of what they never finished. It really is a fascinating divide in how we perceive unfinished business.
There is simply no such thing as a perfect human being among us. We all walk this earth carrying our own set of flaws, whether they are minor slip-ups or significant mistakes, but honestly? That is exactly what defines us. It’s those imperfections that make us who we are.
First, you have to find a way to accept yourself—truly accept who you are. Once that foundation is set, then, and only then, can you begin to look at the people around you for what they actually are, without any distortion. Only after those two things are settled can you start to figure out what needs to be done, where to go, and how to navigate the path ahead. It’s all about that initial internal clarity.
That’s essentially how I see things. From my perspective—looking at both the family I was raised in and the one I’ve built myself—it all feels a bit surreal. Sometimes it borders on the grotesque, and other times it looks like something pulled straight out of a sugary cereal commercial. It’s especially jarring to see how parents are portrayed: these massive, towering figures reduced to helpless little ants, rendered completely insignificant to everyone else in the world, except, of course, to themselves.
You eventually come to realize that they’re all just clawing for survival, trying their absolute best not to trip over their own feet. They know they’re walking on eggshells, fully aware that at some point, someone is inevitably going to slip up. It’s this exhausting, endless cycle: one generation of people who were crushed by the system goes on to become parents, only to end up raising a generation of self-absorbed individuals. Then, those selfish kids grow up to produce another generation of the downtrodden, who will just turn around and raise more narcissists... it just keeps spinning in circles.
I once had this elderly aunt of mine who was just consumed by jealousy toward us kids. It didn't stop there, either—as we grew up, she became just as resentful of our own children. Every single time our parents would show us even a shred of affection or concern, she would immediately launch into this tragic monologue about her own miserable existence. She’d go on and on about how they had nothing, how nobody ever checked in on them, and how they were nothing more than a burden to everyone around them. It was such a pattern. I remember when it finally became our turn to be the ones in charge, making sure everything was perfect with our organic snacks and high-end car seats, while she... well, her upbringing was a different story entirely. When she was little, they used to just toss her in the back of a pickup truck filled with corn, making her spend the whole day picking crops under the sun. She wouldn't even get fed until she was told she could eat. She’d sit there crying, wailing about her aching joints and how hard life had been. Her brothers and sisters went through similar struggles, though they certainly found different ways to navigate their hardships. But honestly, if you look closely enough at anyone, you can find a flaw. There comes a point in life where you aren't just a child anymore; you become an opportunity for others to project their own narratives onto.

Frank Thomas92 said:Do you know why I don't think it was a mistake?
I truly believe she finally understands what real values look like now. It’s a complete departure from her parents, who honestly never quite grasped them. Don't you agree?
And now, she—the one who really ought to know better than anyone else—where on earth could she be?
If she were to have a baby right now—nine months from today—what would that child eventually say about her? It’s a heavy question, isn't it? I can't help but sit here and wonder what kind of legacy one builds in such a short span of time. When you look at the profound impact a parent has on a developing soul, you realize that a child doesn't just see who you are today; they inherit the essence of everything you've worked for. If this happened today, that child would grow up looking back at her life and describing someone who was perhaps still finding her footing, yet deeply committed to the journey ahead. It makes me think of how we all strive to leave something meaningful behind, even when the timeline feels incredibly compressed.
She knows deep down that things aren't right. She can feel that something is fundamentally broken, and frankly, she wants better. It’s about more than just her own life, too—she wants to build a future that actually means something for her child.
I honestly believe people are far too judgmental when it comes to evaluating parents. If you ask me, there are significantly fewer functional families out there than there are functional individuals. I’d go as far as to say that a "factory error" in the form of a parent is almost a statistical certainty within the entire production cycle of society—it's practically baked into the process. As for those who grow up without any family structure at all? Well, that’s an entirely different category altogether.
I’ve been following your posts, and I have to say, you strike me as someone who holds everyone—including your own parents—to an incredibly punishing standard. You seem so intensely uncompromising that I suspect you wouldn't even be able to stomach the messy, imperfect reality of raising a child. If I’m reading you correctly, it feels like you've made the choice to stay childless simply because you couldn't bear to deal with the lack of perfection.
Rigidity is a trap, plain and simple. Life is far too unpredictable and chaotic to be governed by such stubbornness, and if we’re being honest with ourselves, most of us aren't nearly as resilient as we like to pretend. We're all a bit more fragile than we care to admit.
Honestly, you just have to learn how to live with that kind of weakness. It’s one of those things you can't just wish away; you just have to adapt and find a way to manage around it.
Look, if I have to completely blow off my entire degree—toss aside a profession I have absolutely zero interest in pursuing—just to stay behind and retake a single exam... then so be it. Honestly, I wouldn't be the first person to do it, and I certainly won't be the last.
We all know someone who’s stuck in that perpetual state of "almost." You know the type—they’ve got one final exam left to pass, or maybe they just need to turn in that last thesis paper, yet somehow, years go by and they never actually cross the finish line. It’s a common phenomenon in our academic circles. But honestly, if you look closely, the way people handle that limbo varies wildly. Some of them seem perfectly content, living their lives without ever needing that piece of paper, almost as if they’ve found a strange kind of freedom in it. Others, however, carry it like a heavy weight, haunted by the thought of what they never finished. It really is a fascinating divide in how we perceive unfinished business.
There is simply no such thing as a perfect human being among us. We all walk this earth carrying our own set of flaws, whether they are minor slip-ups or significant mistakes, but honestly? That is exactly what defines us. It’s those imperfections that make us who we are.
First, you have to find a way to accept yourself—truly accept who you are. Once that foundation is set, then, and only then, can you begin to look at the people around you for what they actually are, without any distortion. Only after those two things are settled can you start to figure out what needs to be done, where to go, and how to navigate the path ahead. It’s all about that initial internal clarity.
That’s essentially how I see things. From my perspective—looking at both the family I was raised in and the one I’ve built myself—it all feels a bit surreal. Sometimes it borders on the grotesque, and other times it looks like something pulled straight out of a sugary cereal commercial. It’s especially jarring to see how parents are portrayed: these massive, towering figures reduced to helpless little ants, rendered completely insignificant to everyone else in the world, except, of course, to themselves.
You eventually come to realize that they’re all just clawing for survival, trying their absolute best not to trip over their own feet. They know they’re walking on eggshells, fully aware that at some point, someone is inevitably going to slip up. It’s this exhausting, endless cycle: one generation of people who were crushed by the system goes on to become parents, only to end up raising a generation of self-absorbed individuals. Then, those selfish kids grow up to produce another generation of the downtrodden, who will just turn around and raise more narcissists... it just keeps spinning in circles.
I once had this elderly aunt of mine who was just consumed by jealousy toward us kids. It didn't stop there, either—as we grew up, she became just as resentful of our own children. Every single time our parents would show us even a shred of affection or concern, she would immediately launch into this tragic monologue about her own miserable existence. She’d go on and on about how they had nothing, how nobody ever checked in on them, and how they were nothing more than a burden to everyone around them. It was such a pattern. I remember when it finally became our turn to be the ones in charge, making sure everything was perfect with our organic snacks and high-end car seats, while she... well, her upbringing was a different story entirely. When she was little, they used to just toss her in the back of a pickup truck filled with corn, making her spend the whole day picking crops under the sun. She wouldn't even get fed until she was told she could eat. She’d sit there crying, wailing about her aching joints and how hard life had been. Her brothers and sisters went through similar struggles, though they certainly found different ways to navigate their hardships. But honestly, if you look closely enough at anyone, you can find a flaw. There comes a point in life where you aren't just a child anymore; you become an opportunity for others to project their own narratives onto.

Basically, I can agree with you on the second half of your post, but I totally disagree with the first part...
Take my example: I have a sister, we grew up in the same house, but I turned out to be a completely different person. You could say we're polar opposites. As my therapist would put it, in dysfunctional families—which are super common, let's face it—kids usually take one of two paths: either they become extremely "good," people-pleasers who focus entirely on others (though that's easily corrected later)... or they become aggressive, spoiled, and purely self-centered, lacking the flexibility needed to actually change and work on themselves..
Speaking from experience, you really need some time to pass—I’d even say you have to let go of that parental influence on a kid—just to be absolutely sure there isn't something fundamentally broken within the family dynamic. Then, you need enough life experience under your belt to compare your situation to others, which helps you figure out what's actually off. Trust me, that’s a super hard thing for an adolescent to wrap their head around... After that comes the most vital part: changing who you are and discovering your true self. It takes years of work because you aren't starting from scratch; you've got all this internal junk acting like weights pulling you back...

So, bottom line—unfortunately, not everyone is aware of their own flaws, and even fewer people actually know what "good" or "better" looks like, let alone how to actually get there...
That’s why you run into people who just can't make the leap. The author seems to be struggling here, kind of thrashing around without seeing a way out. I'd call that a level of spiritual enlightenment that one just has to reach...

As for my take on parenting, look, I carry a lot of negativity regarding this stuff from my own family. Plus, there’s the personality trait my wife and I share—we never truly craved having kids or being "parental," and then you've got the weight of responsibility, the lack of free time, housing issues, and all that... There are so many variables at play. I always say that if I had wanted kids badly enough, I would've had them—it just turns out I don't actually want them...