I started this yesterday and suddenly my page refreshed and I lost all I'd written. So, I'll try to recall where I was with it.
When I was 27, I was diagnosed with Stage III ovarian cancer. It was quite a shock itself, but then was told I had to have a complete hysterectomy and follow it up with radiation and chemo.So at that age, I was "no longer a woman", in my mind at the time anyway. To think that I had made it through my childhood, put myself through college, developed some self esteem, only to be blind-sided by this. To make a long short, I did survive (Thank you Lord)even when they said I only had a 13% chance. But I think the surgery eroded my self esteem again, even with the positive of surviving. By the time I was 30, I was ripe for a drug that made me feel confident again.
When I was offered an opportunity to try meth, I wasn't worried. It was not addictive supposedly, and I had managed to not become a chronic user of anything over the years past. About 2 years into weekend recreational use, I started putting it in my morning coffee to help me get off to work. I still didn't see myself as addicted. But after about another year, I started smoking it. Mostly because I was afraid my nose would give me away at work, but I didn't know then where smoking meth would lead me.
I was still dealing with all my issues on my own, though I'd had some therapy through the years. I realized whenever some news or event occurred that I didn't know how to process, I'd pick up the pipe. I started to see myself as an addict, and wondered how to get away from it.
Next time: quitting