But yeah the reason why I went back to my parents on summer, is because I was literally having like mental breakdowns from PTSD while in school and it was really shitty. And I thought that if I went home and absolved things, in a mature way. Confronted them. Made "right" our relationship, maybe I would be less tortured with it all. Like I was depressed and shit and, I thought you know if I got some sort of closure or healing. If I could get them to accept me as who I was... etc. Maybe I could make everything okay again. I wanted to mend the, relationship. I wanted to try. Because otherwise, coping with the fact I'd never have a family again the rest of my life was really depressing me at the time and I could barely cope with it.
But you complain about them all the time, what's there to miss other than their money?
But yeah the plan backfired, it didn't go well *at all* and they locked me in my room and threw away the key. Literally. And they said they were going to keep me in there for 1 year, and I was to work for my father at home- I wasn't allowed to go back to university.
What was the drug situation at the time?
I'm sure they had their reasons, what do you figure they were?
I wasn't allowed to go outside. Have friends. The plug was pulled, they took away the computer the phone everything but a fucking mattress.
Sounds like a detox routine, a fearful one. Were they trying to protect you from yourself?
What was your life at that time?
And they beat me, and forced me to do chores.
Beatings? Could you elaborate?
Because I came home and tried to, make things right. To express how I really felt. To show them who I was. And expressed a desire for change. And I kind of stood my ground. You know. They really didn't like that.
This story feels like it has a lot of missing details.
A lot a lot.
I went there to have somewhere to live. And then those friends decided to pull an intervention on me and detox me in their home, which failed because they left me with a phone and an unlocked window. I was serious when I said yes to agreeing to get cleaned up for them so I could stay there in their house.
Well that answers that, you were using, and they locked you in your room for your own good. Look at how you're trying to spin this story, you're ignoring the parts that gave them the motivation to do it.
Why hide this from us? You were being a junkie at the time, be honest with us.
But, two days later you know it's not the same person because you're in withdrawal and it's hell you'll do anything to make it stop and you're not in your right mind. Met someone online in seconds that was willing to hook up with me and give me whatever I fucking wanted so I said fuck it.
...how can you be attacking the very people trying to help you?
I was an angry depressed kid at this time, I was mixed up, I was suicidal and I was sick with addiction like, mentally sick. I didn't have my head on straight at all and the actions of that time reflect that ok. I know, they don't look good.
Yet you still demonize the people who were trying to help you. Put yourself in their shoes for a minute, is what they did really wrong?
And yeah eventually the fun ran out when the money ran out and I went for a walk on the beach on morning and a cig, the girl I was living with was asking me for money that I didn't have. I was stressed out. And my mom calls me out of the blue. I swear to god. And she just started tearing into me and it broke me up inside and I just started sobbing because I couldn't take it anymore. And I told her I don't knwo what to do anymore and I was out of money and blah blah blah crying sobbing. Typical addict. And she said, I'm not giving you any money but you can come home if you go to rehab otherwise, you stay there and stay fucked. Essentially.
So obviously I chose to go to rehab.
You chose right, for the wrong reasons.
