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iamunriven · 3 months

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Balance.

Life is a balance. It requires both darkness and light.It isn’t always going to be positive.It isn’t supposed to be. And the sooner we begin to accept that- the sooner we can look our darkness in the face and embrace it.Tame it.When it gets dark- focus on the light. And if it isn’t there- remember who you can call.Today, I’m thankful for kind friends who show up ❤️Create the light. #positivity

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#alcoholic recovery #americanindian #anxiety #cherokee #depression #emt #end22 #family #fightthewarwithin #goldstarfamily #healing #heritage #mentalhealth #self-discovery #strength #suicide armyrangers #grief #ptsd

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neuroticboyfriend · 6 months

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get in bitches, we're surviving rock bottom no matter how much further we dig. one day we'll put down the shovel and climb out of this for good. we have to. as long as we're still alive there is hope.

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chronicallycouchbound · 9 months

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People who use drugs deserve love and kindness.

Abstinence is not the only form of recovery. AA/NA doesn’t work for everyone. Sometimes people choose to use instead of meeting other needs, which is valid. Some people use for recreational purposes. Some people use for medicinal purposes. Some people who use have substance abuse disorder. Treatment looks different for everyone. Not everyone needs or wants treatment, for various reasons. The only thing Naloxone enables is breathing. Active use is not shameful. People who use drugs often also deal drugs. People in recovery should not shame active users. Active users deserve love. Active users deserve someone to check in on them, get them safer use supplies, and get them pizza. Active users deserve to be listened to. They deserve better than to have that be the first time anyone ever treated them as human since they began using.

Let’s care for each other.

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thedomesticanthropologist · 16 days

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this is it yall I DID IT!! today's the 100TH DAY of my sobriety

Thank you so, so much to everyone here who has commented, replied, sent asks, private messaged me throughout this journey sending me support and love - it means more than you know 💕

In the last 100 days I have been able to write and draw more, I have been gradually less anxious and my dark brain thoughts have spiraled much less than when using. I got my dreams back, literally- it had been years since u recalled draming at night and now I remember every couple nights dreams.

I learned that for an addict, getting sober doesn't mean not wanting to drink/smoke. I may always have the desire to. But now I know I am strong enough to fight back and win.

100 days!!!!

#clean and sober #sobriety #cannabis addiction #addiction recovery #addiction #alcohol addiction #100 days sober

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moonlit-positivity · 4 months

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Somebody might need to hear this: hey. That was a really scary thing you had to go through. What an awful feeling to be carrying around. So deep inside where no one can hurt you like that ever again. If no one else has ever told you this before then I'm glad you're here. I'm glad you made it. And I'm so fucking sorry you had to see it to begin with. You absolutely did not need to see that. Not ever.

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quote-a-day-2022 · 2 years

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slivincptsd · 10 months

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whumpshaped · 3 months

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tw addiction whump, alcohol, past trauma, pet whump, rocky recovery, flashbacks, emeto, paranoia, self-blame, self-deprecation, dehumanisation

Once Whumpee had gotten out and was allowed to make their own decisions again, they decided it would be prudent to make as many bad ones in as short a time frame as humanly possible. Their first trip out of the hospital had brought them straight to the liquor store, and they bought as much alcohol as their court settlement could pay for. They wanted nothing but to forget. Forget the trial, forget their captivity, forget…

Sit pretty for me. There you go, good boy. Aren’t you a good little pet?

They swallowed and threw the money on the counter, then grabbed their beverages and left without a word. They didn’t give the cashier enough time to recognise them from the news.

The bottles kept clinking together quite obnoxiously as Whumpee struggled to bring all of them up the stairs to their apartment. They clinked even more as they tried to put them down one by one without breaking any so they could fish their key out of their pocket. They groaned when they realised they would have to repeat the whole thing again; pick up the bottles one by one, bring them inside, push the door closed with their hip, put them down one by one, lock the door.

They stared at the collection of all the different beverages they had laid out in front of them. Vodka, gin, whiskey, whatever they could find on the shelves, they’d bought. They had no idea what they liked. They doubted they liked any of it.

Whumpee glanced towards the window, shame immediately rising in their chest. What if someone saw them? Would the people judge them? Would the knowledge of their trauma make it worse in their mind or better? Would they accept them as just another failure of society, someone who had been too weak to handle the hand life had dealt them? Or would they scream and shout about the unfairness, the fact that someone as useless as them had been given such a large sum of money, only so they could blow it on substances?

They stepped up to the window and hastily closed the blinds. Nobody would see them like this. Not now, not ever.

-

Whumpee’s resolution to avoid others whenever they were wasted had crumbled in the first few days, because they’d thought it appropriate to go out and try to make friends. They had been so desperately lonely.

They’d woken up one day on a public bench, being watched over by a stranger. They had excused themself and rushed home, drowning out the memory with more alcohol right after having thrown up the last of the previous day’s shots.

But it seemed like their drunk mind wanted nothing but the tentative familiarity of that chance meeting to be repeated over and over again, because they found themself back on the bench every other day. Caretaker — as the stranger had introduced themself — was always kind to them, and always made sure no one else bothered them on their leisurely strolls. They were… different, odd, but a safe kind of odd, the kind of odd Whumpee felt comfortable inviting into their depressing little apartment after just a week of knowing them.

One week? Two weeks? Whumpee couldn’t remember. It hadn’t been a long time, probably, because their first supply of alcohol was still going strong.

“I don’t think I should,” Caretaker said awkwardly. “I mean… Are you sure you want me there?”

“Yeah… yeah, I… I don’t have anyone else, really…” they slurred, blissfully unaware of how much of a target they were putting on their back. It was nothing but luck that Caretaker didn’t jump on the opportunity to burgle the victim of one of the most famous legal cases, who, as everyone seemed to be aware of, was sitting on a pile of cash.

“Don’t say that,” they said quietly, and Whumpee instinctively assumed it was out of pity.

“Why? It’s true. Everyone knows, ‘cuz I walk around here every single fucking day, and I’m always fucking alone.” They gave Caretaker a lazy grin. “Not right now, I guess, but it’s not like you’re constantly with me, huh? And eeeeveryone hates me for it, they want me fucking gone, they want me off the public property, and away from their children, and they look at me like I’m no different than the pile of fucking trash they leave out every Tuesday!”

“Alright, alright, but don’t fucking tell everyone that you’re constantly alone. At least lie about it.”

That made Whumpee stop in their tracks, their dumb smile faltering a little. “Huh?”

“There are bad people in this world, Whumpee. You should know that better than anyone. Just lie and say you’re going to a friend’s place, or going back home to your family. No need to make it known that you’re easy pickings.”

Whumpee stared at them blankly, trying to process the words. “Huh…?” Was Caretaker… not saying it as a means to comfort them?

“I’ll explain one more time once we get to your place, if you still wanna bring me back.”

Of course they did. They wanted it more now than ever.

-

“Pet me?” Whumpee asked abruptly.

“What? Like a dog?”

Whumpee tensed. Even in their drunken haze, the comparison sent them back to the place they’d so painstakingly escaped. “I… guess so.”

Caretaker seemed to notice the change in atmosphere too, and they put two and two together. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I was just surprised—”

“It doesn’t matter.” They pushed their head against Caretaker’s thigh. Admittedly, the alcohol made it easier to forget, even if not to forgive. “Pet me?”

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

“I’m asking you.”

Caretaker hesitantly lifted a hand and placed it on top of Whumpee’s head. They carefully carded their fingers through the soft hair, gently scratching their scalp as they went. Whumpee had the feeling Caretaker was being overly cautious, so they nuzzled against their hand as a way of encouragement.

“It’s okay if you think of me as a dog,” Whumpee said before they could stop themself. It wasn’t okay, but they didn’t want Caretaker to hold back on the headpats just because they thought it might trigger something in them. Even if it might.

“It’s not,” they said anyway. “I’d never think of you as a dog.”

Whumpee huffed. “Maybe it’d make everything easier, honestly. You wouldn’t fault a dog for being useless. You’d just coo at it endlessly, everyone would. ‘Aww, look at that adorable, useless dog. Who cares what it can do for me? All it has to do is lie there and be adorable.’”

“Do you think of yourself as a dog?” Caretaker asked softly.

“I sank lower than a dog ages ago, I think. I’d have to work really hard to get back up there. I’m more like… a roly poly.”

Caretaker petted them mutely for a while, repeating the pleasant motions and slowly lulling Whumpee to sleep. “I like roly polies,” they murmured before Whumpee could’ve fully drifted off. “And I like dogs too. But…” Their petting stopped, and they let out a heavy sigh. “I like you so much more and so differently than any animal.”

-

“You’re gonna die of alcohol poisoning one day, you know.”

“I’m gonna die of withdrawal…” Whumpee made a half-hearted attempt to get the bottle from Caretaker, but they held it up and out of their reach. “You know you can’t keep it from me if you want me alive…”

“Oh, I can. We’re gonna work on it, bit by bit. And right now, you’re not getting any.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“Nope.”

“You’re gonna kill me.”

Caretaker rolled their eyes. “I know what I’m doing.”

Whumpee rolled over onto their back, trying to ignore the nausea. The ceiling was swirling and morphing, and they had no desire to ever see it come to a stop again. “I’d rather get alcohol poisoning than die of withdrawal, I think. I don’t know how either of them are, but I know I don’t want to be sober.”

“Hopefully, you won’t ever know how either of them are.”

Whumpee scoffed. “I didn’t want to know what being a human pet was like, and here we are. Not only do I know, but thanks to the fucking trials, everyone else knows too.”

“That doesn’t mean everything you don’t want happening to you will suddenly happen. You don’t have to run head first into a wall just because you feel like it’s coming at you and you want to strike first. Walls don’t usually move. Not when you’re sober.”

“Huh?”

Caretaker sat down on the sofa next to them, gently rubbing their arm. “I think you deserve a better life, Whumpee. Even if you don’t want any.”

“I don’t—” The nausea suddenly became unbearable, and they pushed themself off the couch to stumble into the bathroom. They didn’t reach the toilet.

They had no idea what they’d meant to say before the accident. No one would ever know.

#whump #whump drabble #addiction whump #alcohol #past trauma #pet whump #recovery fic #flashbacks #emeto #paranoia #self-blame #self-deprecation #dehumanisation #comfort

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ed-recovery-affirmations · 5 months

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Sending love to everyone whose family members are going to trigger them tomorrow.

Sending love to everyone who has a dual diagnosis of ED and severe mental illness trying to make it through the holiday season. These months can be rough.

Sending love to everyone who has a dual diagnosis of ED and alcoholism/substance use disorder. Tomorrow you may find yourself pressured with an excess of food and an excess of alcohol consumption, in a high-pressure environment to boot.

You're not alone in finding this tough. It's okay to feel what you're feeling. We'll make it through.

#ed recovery #thanksgiving #ed cw #alcoholism #mental illness #dual diagnosis #mental health

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pumpkster · 10 months

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#art tag #rick and morty #role swap #dont you hate when you go visit your daughter and you are trying to bond with the family but then you get yoinked to another dimension #by your grandson because hes grounded and he can use you as an excuse + he needs helps with some alien artifact or something #also you are an alcoholic in recovery BUT YOUR GRANDSON HAS A FLASK LIKE NOTHING #also yes i used the 3 main colours of that ice cream that has 3 #I WASNT GOING TO POST THIS TODAY BUT #edit: i posted this twice on my alt acc by accident

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longreads · 8 months

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Unknown Costs

“Addicts and alcoholics cannot prove their need for treatment by requesting it. They’ve gotta bleed and pee for it. And even that might not be enough.”

A powerful new Longreads essay on addiction recovery is out today. Take some time to read it here.

#drugs #alcohol #dopesick #oxy pills #oxycontin 80mg #addiction #recovery #healthcare #health insurance #writing #nonfiction #longreads #painkiller #substance abuse treatment #substance use

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iamunriven · 3 months

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The night before she was born

What an incredibly powerful quote to force a pause on a night that has brought me waves of mixed emotions over the years. 6 years ago, we were laying in bed, excited beyond words to become parents the next morning. Our bags were packed. Her room was ready.It was finally time. In all of our relationship, we had never been so happy and excited for the future. I had no clue that 16 days later, I…

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#alcoholic recovery #anxiety #depression #end22 #fightthewarwithin #goldstarfamily #healing #mentalhealth #parenting #self-discovery #strength #suicide armyrangers #firefighter #grief #loss #ptsd

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neuroticboyfriend · 1 month

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if you're a recovering addict, i want you to know you're doing good.

you didn't use today? you're doing good. you used recently and you're still recovering? you're doing good. you sought support today? you're doing good. you practiced harm reduction? you're doing good. you want to relapse and haven't? you're doing good. you're getting involved, even if others are doing more? you're doing good. you're resting today? you're doing good. you're alive? you're doing good.

this shit takes time. you have spent a considerable amount of time doing harmful things to yourself, or others. you're not going to change overnight. all you can reasonably do is get through the day, adding as much good to your life/the lives of others as you can. it doesn't matter what happened yesterday, or what's going to happen tomorrow.

all you have is this moment, and if you're on the path of recovery... you're doing good. this is your story. not someone else's. not some idealized version of yourself. it's yours, just as you exist, right now. that's all you have, and all you need.

keep going. you got this. i'm glad you're here (and so is everyone else who interacted with this post).

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thedomesticanthropologist · 4 months

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"No green leaves, no bubbly brew – proud of you! No more funny smells, no dizzy bubbles – you strong friend! "

I'm 5 days sober today, so I made this to celebrate

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #owlbear #owlbear cub #my edits #my screenshots #bg3 sobriety #sobriety #addiction recovery #alcohol and cannabis

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moonlit-positivity · 2 months

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Lesser known effects of trauma that don't ever get acknowledged

Cw: mentions of csa, sa, despair, depression, & generally dark content that some may find hard to read. Please interact & read with care.

"bed rotting" (which I hear is gaining attention on TikTok these days) ie the process of becoming bedridden due to your body being stuck in freeze response (paralyzed w fear, too scared to move)

Needing to cut your hair bc it keeps getting matted down, because you can't shower or wash it or keep up with it anymore

Gaining weight (i gained over 200lbs in a year), losing all the clothes you once fit in, and feeling guilty when all you see everywhere all the time is fat shaming

Losing weight (and subsequently all your clothes start falling off 😭) eating disorders and struggling with body image

Existing off of God knows what at this point. Is that milk spoiled? Yeah but how many days is it spoiled? Mmm, nah, nevermind, I'll just eat air.

Losing track of time. Losing months to years of time because of extreme dissociation, fatigue, stress, and the inability to move

Brain & body "shut down" or go into sleep mode for long periods of time

Self hygiene becomes non existent. Showering? Brushing teeth? Changing clothes? Don't know her.

House cleaning becomes non existent. "If It's Not In The Vacinity, It's Not Getting Done."

Lying to everyone about what's going on because it's easier than telling the truth

Not being comfortable with having your pictures taken, go through a phase where you destroy any evidence you ever existed anywhere at all

Isolating & ghosting all ur friends periodically to make sure they're not gonna leave you (lol makes perfect sense, if you know you know)

Animal upkeep goes to shit. Litter box goes neglected for long periods of time.

Noise & light sensitivity goes haywire. Noise & light triggers get amplified especially once you start to feel any sense of "safety" and start decompressing. An alarm goes off, the stove beeps, the cat meows, anything that makes even the slightest noise in the foreground and you have a whole ass panic attack and find yourself in bed for the rest of the day

Agoraphobia. You never go outside ever again. Too much paranoia, too many eyes staring at you, too many reasons to panic and stay in bed

Life becomes so non existent that the only thing that matters is whatever you're currently doing to cope & survive. If you're addicted to something, well, it's a fucking miracle you even wake up anymore

Couch surfing and inevitable homelessness when people get tired of housing you. Having to confront the way society frames government assistance as "the lazy man's income" & hope disability goes through. Which it won't. Wait-lists out the ass, section 8 takes 5 years or more to kick in. Disability doesn't even go through bc they always deny the first time you apply. The process is littered with appeals and court dates and what the fuck, I can't even get out of bed. What the fuck. What the fuck.

Leaning into your despair because, despite what everyone on social media will shout at you about resilience and "not allowing yourself to fall into despair," they will never understand that concept that despair is there for a reason too. Youre looking at someone who was raped at 5 years old and youre telling them to "stay positive." Yeah okay.

The anger, the bitterness, the resentment at the world & everyone in it. The cold blooded urge for revenge & justice. Especially when there's nothing you can do about the fact that your abusers are still free to live and roam this world as they please.

Not being able to "talk about it." Not being able to "trust a safe space." That's bullshit. I was beat and abused my whole life, what the fuck you mean "safe space?" The absolute mind fuckery that you have to sit with and undo and learn the fact that they fucking lied to you. It is enough to kill you.

Everything you learn in therapy just pisses you off even more because why the fuck wasn't there someone there as a kid to teach you this shit???? Why the fuck do I have to learn this as an adult???? Where was this when I actually fucking needed it????

Nothing helps. Nothing soothes, because there is no soothing. There is only pain. It's like ripping your skin off.

Losing everything. Losing all your friends. Losing all your "cool status" points. Losing your reputation. Losing all the things that once brought you great joy and passion. There is nothing anymore. Pain and isolation and desolation and despair.

Learning that no one can relate. Except that's not entirely true at all. People can relate. It's just such a stigmatized topic that no one talks about it out loud, because no one else in society really gets it.

#recovery #ptsd #trauma #mental health #boundaries #healing #abuse #effects of abuse #childhood trauma #abusive parenting #abusive relationships #addictions #alcoholism #acoa #codependency #substance use

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my-journey-to-recovery · 9 months

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#addiction recovery #addiction #healing #alcoholism #sobriety #drug abuse #addiction treatment #life quotes #motivational quotes #sober

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