I'm about to relapse, please help!

Look, let's be real here—hardly anyone gets a perfect childhood. That's just how life works. You aren't going to escape various traumas that eat away at you and shake your confidence. Life is a struggle. Because of that, you have to cut out everything that drains your strength. First and foremost, that means drugs—whether they're hard stuff or just milder substances. We start pretending we're strong enough to handle them, but that's exactly when our actual strength deserts us. Real strength comes from discipline and giving things up. Generally speaking. It’s easy to sit around and theorize about this, I get it... but it’s the plain truth. It’s a waste of a life to blow it all on artificial highs. Why not just live more freely and naturally? For the sake of your mental health—it’s the best way, proven. Staying healthy is the prerequisite for actually being happy.🙂Mental hygiene up—drugs down!🧐

If I had to choose between my terminally ill child living a lifetime of misery—where "winning" just means dulling the constant pain rather than finding any actual joy—or opting for an artificially induced relief, I’d take the latter. I couldn't bear to watch someone I love suffer like that. My upbringing was all about grit, sacrifice, and fighting through the dirt. Maybe I'm making the mistake of assuming others shouldn't have to live the way I did, but hey, I'm only human. I'm here to make mistakes.

Addiction doesn't destroy mental health; it's the consequence of a mind that's already been destroyed. People just refuse to grasp that.

The problem is that when I write like this, people immediately assume I'm defending or even promoting drug use. That isn't true. I just want people to be happy—if it's even possible without substances—through simple things like music, dancing, and the small joys life occasionally offers.

But you can't find happiness without stable families, love, and understanding. Love is what fills that final void.

Sandra Walker4 said:If I had to choose between my terminally ill child living a lifetime of misery—where "winning" just means dulling the constant pain rather than finding any actual joy—or opting for an artificially induced relief, I’d take the latter. I couldn't bear to watch someone I love suffer like that. My upbringing was all about grit, sacrifice, and fighting through the dirt. Maybe I'm making the mistake of assuming others shouldn't have to live the way I did, but hey, I'm only human. I'm here to make mistakes.

Addiction doesn't destroy mental health; it's the consequence of a mind that's already been destroyed. People just refuse to grasp that.

The problem is that when I write like this, people immediately assume I'm defending or even promoting drug use. That isn't true. I just want people to be happy—if it's even possible without substances—through simple things like music, dancing, and the small joys life occasionally offers.

But you can't find happiness without stable families, love, and understanding. Love is what fills that final void.

I find myself nodding along here; just a few thoughts from my side regarding 👍 👍

The issue—and it truly is an issue—is that whenever I write like this, people immediately assume I’m defending, or heaven forbid, promoting addiction, which couldn't be further from the truth. My only aim is for people to find happiness—assuming, of course, that such a thing is possible without substances—through a little music, dance, and the simple joys that the small things in life can offer....

But true fulfillment requires stable family dynamics, love, and mutual understanding , because love is what finally fills that ultimate void....

I agree with this point as well 😍 😍 though I should probably add that even love can be deeply unsettling or even destructive when it stems from disappointment or being wounded—heartbreak can be quite tragic... hm, hm, ah 🤣 🤣 and, naturally, accompanied by that inevitable laughter....

It’s debatable what this stuff does to a broken society... I’ve been there myself, and honestly, nothing but pure curiosity led me to try it. Luckily, I realized pretty quickly it doesn't help my constant sensitivity—it just sharpens everything too much and gives you this fake sense of insight, like you suddenly "get it all." Please. People... I left it at that one experience because my gut told me it was only going to do more harm than good.
Some people get high on that stuff and they're fine, whatever, it's their choice. I'm not judging. But I think getting hooked is inevitable. It’s almost pathetic watching people in their 30s whose entire purpose in life is just making it to the end of the workday and then passing out. They drown in their own little feelings, acting like nothing else works. I used to think like that when I was 16, maybe... but everyone's needs and priorities are different. If you want to party, fine. But if you're aiming for a goal?

hiddentrucker16 said:I find myself nodding along here; just a few thoughts from my side regarding 👍 👍

The issue—and it truly is an issue—is that whenever I write like this, people immediately assume I’m defending, or heaven forbid, promoting addiction, which couldn't be further from the truth. My only aim is for people to find happiness—assuming, of course, that such a thing is possible without substances—through a little music, dance, and the simple joys that the small things in life can offer....

But true fulfillment requires stable family dynamics, love, and mutual understanding , because love is what finally fills that ultimate void....

I agree with this point as well 😍 😍 though I should probably add that even love can be deeply unsettling or even destructive when it stems from disappointment or being wounded—heartbreak can be quite tragic... hm, hm, ah 🤣 🤣 and, naturally, accompanied by that inevitable laughter....

It’s obvious it happens, and often. But family is everything at the start. So many broken hearts and much of this suffering stem from unstable homes. Someone who fears showing emotion, someone who handles it poorly and hurts others, or someone who clings desperately to one person until it turns into mania because they were starved for affection—they always end up looking like the villain. Family lays the foundation for how we act later. Emotional instability in childhood leads directly to unstable relationships and marriages down the road.

A lot of people fear emotion. They suppress it and act cold toward everyone, even their own kids. There's this ruthless coolness everywhere, but usually, that indifference is why people go looking for happiness elsewhere. In reality, they've been stifled and repressed by their upbringing, so they turn to whiskey, cocaine, or a syringe to cope.

I know I might be talking about myself too much, even though nobody asked. I also realize I might be exhausting with how I present my views, but hey, nobody's perfect.

Because of those cold family ties, I find myself needing to hug a pillow if I'm not with a girl. If I don't feel someone or something is there for me, it becomes unbearable. I feel alone, unloved, abandoned. In those moments of crushing loneliness, I quietly absorb the smiles and happiness of others just to make living in this world feel a little more bearable.

Basically, those who have gone through what I have can grow in two different directions. One group thinks feelings mean nothing; they see emotion as a weakness and would slap someone for crying tears of joy. The other group, like me, are typical beggars searching for a shred of love and understanding, often trampling our own egos just to get it.

I hope parents are reading this. I want to scare them a little by showing how much responsibility they actually carry. Questioning your own parenting is never a bad thing.

Sandra Walker4 said:It’s obvious it happens, and often. But family is everything at the start. So many broken hearts and much of this suffering stem from unstable homes. Someone who fears showing emotion, someone who handles it poorly and hurts others, or someone who clings desperately to one person until it turns into mania because they were starved for affection—they always end up looking like the villain. Family lays the foundation for how we act later. Emotional instability in childhood leads directly to unstable relationships and marriages down the road.

A lot of people fear emotion. They suppress it and act cold toward everyone, even their own kids. There's this ruthless coolness everywhere, but usually, that indifference is why people go looking for happiness elsewhere. In reality, they've been stifled and repressed by their upbringing, so they turn to whiskey, cocaine, or a syringe to cope.

I know I might be talking about myself too much, even though nobody asked. I also realize I might be exhausting with how I present my views, but hey, nobody's perfect.

Because of those cold family ties, I find myself needing to hug a pillow if I'm not with a girl. If I don't feel someone or something is there for me, it becomes unbearable. I feel alone, unloved, abandoned. In those moments of crushing loneliness, I quietly absorb the smiles and happiness of others just to make living in this world feel a little more bearable.

Basically, those who have gone through what I have can grow in two different directions. One group thinks feelings mean nothing; they see emotion as a weakness and would slap someone for crying tears of joy. The other group, like me, are typical beggars searching for a shred of love and understanding, often trampling our own egos just to get it.

I hope parents are reading this. I want to scare them a little by showing how much responsibility they actually carry. Questioning your own parenting is never a bad thing.

Perhaps that’s true—my own psychiatrists suggest I’ve become cynical, bitter, and deeply disillusioned because my parents divorced. They argue that it was my first encounter with betrayal—that since my parents' love wasn't meant to last, why should I believe anyone else's will? Am I somehow at fault simply because they didn't love each other? Am I to blame for being born out of a moment of passion and intensity that—evidently—wasn't enough to overcome... well, whatever it is people usually manage to conquer quite successfully and happily? I have always felt like some sort of fundamental error—insecure, sensitive, a pessimist through and through. And despite my youth, I am profoundly distrustful; honestly, when someone tries to tell me that being young is inherently wonderful, bright, and vibrant, I feel a sudden, visceral urge to just shut them down entirely. Though, I suppose it is a bit foolish to pin every misfortune I face on my family dynamic—parents are only one part of our lives, important as they may be. We don't choose our gender, our looks, or even where we live, so why should we have any say in who our parents are? In many ways, we are simply born without autonomy. Still, I love my parents. I love my mom and my dad. I try my best to respect their various partners, even if the whole situation grates on my nerves—moving between Mom’s place for lunch and then over to Dad’s, only to deal with the inevitable friction. If I mention that Mom is more progressive than Dad, he gets defensive; if I suggest that Dad is actually a decent man despite his flaws, Mom takes offense. It’s all rather exhausting.

Quincy:

I am acutely aware that I might be dwelling on my own experiences a bit too much—even though, strictly speaking, no one actually asked for my input—and I realize I can be somewhat exhausting when I begin laying out my various positions. But then again, if we are looking for perfection, I suppose we should all just hold our breath and wait for someone else to chime in.

Oh, please—don't trouble yourself with unnecessary concern; just keep writing. 👍

Quincy:

Because of certain... let's call them chilly family dynamics—it’s a bit of a cold front at home lately—I find myself needing to hug a pillow whenever I'm not with my girlfriend. It sounds trivial, perhaps, but if I don't feel someone—or something—standing right there beside me, it becomes unbearable. There is this overwhelming sensation of being utterly alone, unloved, and just... left behind. In those moments of intense isolation, I find myself quietly, almost imperceptibly, absorbing the smiles and the happiness of others passing by. It isn't much, I know, but it makes living in this world feel just a little more tolerable—perhaps even a little more meaningful.

I find myself in a similar predicament regarding my own romantic history—it’s honestly quite a mess of unnecessary drama and sheer melodrama, if I’m being perfectly honest with myself. I really am quite terrible at this. First, I’ll settle for someone I don't even particularly like, telling myself—with a certain level of misplaced confidence—that it doesn't matter because I don't actually believe in love anyway. It feels like a safe bet, doesn't it? If I don't care, they can't hurt me; there's no risk of disappointment if there was never any investment to begin with. And yet—despite all that mental posturing—I inevitably spiral into these intense, codependent cycles where I suddenly can't function for a single day without them, enduring every slight and lack of respect just to keep the connection alive. And for what? Then, by some cruel twist of fate, I actually meet someone I truly respect—someone with whom the connection is so effortless and profound that I find myself questioning if such a thing even exists in reality. And what do I do? Instead of leaning into that beauty, I let my own neuroses, my irrational anger, and this pervasive, inexplicable distrust take the wheel. I sabotage the entire thing with my own suspicious behavior and erratic moods before it even has a chance to bloom. Because, heaven forbid, things should actually go well for me. I suppose I just wasn't raised with enough happy endings to trust them when they finally arrive—it leaves me perpetually, frustratingly skeptical.

It seems I’ve gone off on a bit of a tangent myself—it appears I’ve managed to pivot quite seamlessly from discussing narcotics to the complexities of romance...

Go ahead, keep it coming, just keep typing because there are plenty of us here who can totally relate to this. And hey, Sandra Walker4, just so you know, our parents are reading this too. Thanks for being real!

Sandra Walker4 said:Why are you surprised? People lack empathy because they’re too busy convinced they’ve endured the worst, judging everyone else as pathetic, stupid, or ungrateful just for being different.

Fall down, and they’ll stomp on you. Hesitate, and they’ll spit on you. There’s zero support, zero understanding; it’s far easier to judge, attack, and harass. Exceptions exist, sure, but most people are just like this. My grandfather, my father, relatives, professors, even old classmates—so many of them hunt for a wound or a weakness just to soothe their own complexes and frustrations. In a world built this way, where can anyone find happiness, confidence, or a shred of love through art? Excuses are everywhere. Whether it’s physical abuse or verbal insults, people will always find a justification, whether they're a parent, a neighbor, or a stranger. Show any emotion to the mob and you're finished; they'll write off your mental health and tell you your self-esteem is dead.

I don't want to play the saint, but I feel like we're all part of one frayed fabric. That's how I approach others—trying to see the good in them, because understanding someone else helps me understand myself. It isn't hard to be cynical; there’s enough injustice and contempt in this world to fuel a lifetime of hate. But even in the eyes of an addict, you can find something decent, something beautiful and human, rather than just the selfishness and misery people expect.

If we accept the social definition that addicts are sick and need treatment, then why the double standards? Why blame them for being "selfish" or for making others unhappy? Do we blame people dying from cancer or other terminal illnesses? Do we blame those who leave behind grieving families? Do we blame people killed in car accidents for being bad drivers or driving too fast in a storm? Are they to blame for a genetic defect, or for a desperate rebellion against an unjust system—thinking they were better drivers than they actually were?

Do they act this way on purpose just to cause grief, or are they simply sick because they are different? Because they couldn't handle reality, or because they sought something higher through methods society rejects? An intelligent person is a questioning being; they search for something greater. Drugs are just a vehicle used to chase new dimensions of perception. There are safer ways to travel and better roads to take, but at the start, drugs act like a protective mother, caring for you until they suddenly reveal their darkest side. They are the guardians of happiness and the providers of meaning, before turning into ruthless slave drivers over a weak body and an even weaker will. Who can blame someone for being weak, or for seeking shelter from a predatory world that’s waiting to tear them down? Who can judge someone for daring to be different or for choosing to feel instead of being ashamed? The cold, disciplined types do fine, but not everyone is a robot. We can't all follow blindly. If someone uses, it is their right and their choice, provided they aren't stealing or killing. If they realize they've messed up and want to change, they have my full support. No judgment here; none of us are perfect.

Tina, you decided to quit for your child and for yourself. You want a fresh start. It’s worth succeeding for that helpless little life you need to lead onto the right path. Let that be your first commandment, a purpose as central as the addiction used to be. If I had the power, I’d toss every pill and every bit of paraphernalia out of your house, then tie you to the bed if I had to, just to get you through the temptation—even if you hated me for it. I’d do it because you chose this for yourself. If I were your brother, I wouldn't hesitate to stop you until this worst crisis passes. The cravings will hit hard at first, but I think you can rediscover that other dimension of happiness—the kind where a child’s smile is enough to send you to seventh heaven. Watching sunsets, listening to the ocean, hearing the birds—once you start finding sufficiency in those things, you'll wake up without that one nagging craving haunting your every thought. It might sound like empty clichés, but those simple realities are what make life worth living.

Once again, you have my full support. Stay strong and good luck. I’m rooting for you. I want to see the day when your child can say with absolute pride, "That's my mother." Because once you finally break free from addiction, those small-minded people—from the petty HOA presidents down to every other corrupt, lowlife soul out there—won't be able to project their anger or contempt onto you anymore. They won't have any way to justify their own malice and evil if you aren't there to take the fall.

I was just swinging by to see if anyone was still hanging out here despite me. I sort of knew what I’d find, but I’m not complaining, because I stumbled onto this!
THANK YOU, THANK YOU, AND A HUNDRED MORE THANKS!!!
You actually brought me to tears, and honestly, that was exactly what I needed.
Just to clear something up for a few people here. It’s true—when I was high the first, second, or third time, I wasn't thinking about my family or the consequences. But that doesn't mean I didn't care about their pain. Not at all. There were days when the only reason I wanted to get clean was because I couldn't stand watching the people around me suffer because of me. For God's sake, just because I was high doesn't mean my emotions vanished or that I stopped being a human being.