Confessions of an AddictPosted: October 26, 2013
Today, while my husband was at home carving pumpkins with my kids, I was out–shopping for a new bikini to wear on a hot tub date I have planned for tonight.
I felt terrible about myself, but I did not stay home.
I don’t want to blame my actions on addiction–as though I am not at fault. As though I am not the one making these choices. But I know–this is what addiction is. What it does.
It turns loving, devoted mothers into selfish, self-centered absentees.
It turns committed, self-sacrificing wives into cold-hearted bitches.
It turns formerly modest and appropriate women into shameless flirts.
It turns someone who used to be friendly and respectful, into someone who sees all attractive men and women as nothing more than prey.
It turns a woman who used to want to change the world, into one applying for a job at a body rub parlour.
I hate myself, but I am not going to stop–not yet.
I thought I hit rock bottom once. Then again, and then once more. But it has become clear to me that I have no idea what rock bottom is. I obviously have farther to fall before I will admit that this cannot go on any longer. I don’t know what it will take, and it scares me.
My only hope is that it only ruins me, and not my husband. Not my children. Not my family.