Sep 13

Travor’s Struggle

My name is Travor and for the longest time I have struggled with my addiction. It all began with alcohol but later progressed into hard drugs and prescription medicine. I have hurt, disappointed and done despicable things to those who had nothing but love for me. I am grateful to those who have managed to forgive me and those who are still trying to put my transgression behind them. Am the third born and only boy to a family of four siblings, i could say that monetary wise, my family is extremely rich, but throughout my struggle I have learned to appreciate that having lots of money does not make one rich or happy or satisfied.

As a young boy growing up, our family was detached. My parents slept in different bedrooms, they were never at home, not even once can I remember any of my parents helping out with homework or even accompanying us on holiday, the best they did was to hire a full time nanny and a governess to help with what ever the kids needed. Yes it was good at times, I could get away with a lot mistakes and my parents would never hear of it. As time passed on, I became more and more aware of the disconnect that our family had, in school I could hear other kids talk of how they had a good time with their parents on holidays, how they had gone for dinners, visited their grandparents, so why dint I have such stories? How bad a failure was my family? With time I naturally started to create my own little stories of how perfect and close-knit our family was.My first taste of alcohol was at the age of 13, this was during a party my father had hosted for some friends of his. Only during such parties did I see my parents talk to each other, my mother always appeared to be happy and her laughter was calming to all the pressures of the lies I had told. “Maybe this is the way life ought to be, we all look happy and close to each other” I thought.High school was no different from my primary school life, by this time I had perfected the art of lying, the lies were now bigger and sophisticated and in the eyes of my peers I had the perfect life. One thing that had been clear was that my father expected the best out of me, regardless of the family issues, I had to be an A student, so I made sure that I never disappointed. I managed to complete high school without any disciplinary cases which my parents knew of.
At the age of 23 I was a full blown addict, I had move up from alcohol and bhang to cocaine, this was considered to be the best drug for the rich kids and seeing that I was one of them I could not be caught taking anything else. With my weekly allowance, I could afford as much cocaine and alcohol as I wanted. At 24 I was shipped of to the U.S to complete my studies, this was my parents’ way of getting me away from “the bad friends I had” or was it a way of them denying the fact that there son had a major problem?. What they dint know at the time was that I had a problem with alcohol and drugs long before my mother caught me.
During my 6 years in the U.S, I never communicated with my parents, they followed their payment schedules with the University, sent me my up kip money and life went on. By this time, I really dint care much for them, they had never been there for me, all they did is tell me what they expected but never, not even once did they guide me on the right path. I had my struggle with substance abuse but tried to keep it under control because at the back of my head I knew that I couldn’t afford to disappoint my family. I was a grown man now, I had to make my own choices, take my own path wherever it took me. When I came back home at the age of 29, the disconnect with my family was greater than ever, I had so much anger towards my parents, my siblings, and even the old lady who was once my nanny who was now taking care of my younger sisters baby. I decided to move out of the main house and in to the pool house, this gave me a false sense of satisfaction.
I became very defensive, no one had the right to ask me anything, the little money I had managed to save was soon washed away in alcohol and drug parties, unfortunately these parties gave me the sense of belonging that I so much desired though temporary. Being the educated man who just came back from the U.S, gave me status with the ladies and soon enough I developed an intimate relationship with one of my partying friends. The lady was four years my senior and I used her to get back at my mother, life began to get complicated, I had my addiction issues, my family issues and now I had my own relationship issues. My relationship only lasted 2 months before the lady got tired of my behavior. What was wrong with world? I could never seem to catch a break! I was soon to realize that relationships were not my strongest suit.
Why could I not break this habit? Was I really as weak a as my father had so many times pointed out? How comes my friends never get addicted to this substances but I do? Do I deserve to live? These thoughts became my worst nightmare, I could not shake them off. So one night I finally broke down, I remember being so drunk and high, I had just been fired from my third job due to my dependency on substance, I was at my lowest point. I went home, into my parents house, took out all the liquor they had and carried it to the pool house. I remember screaming and breaking things in my house, being on the floor curled up and my always caring nanny pulling me up, it felt like my house had no oxygen, I was exhausted! At that point I either dozed off or passed out.
I woke up in hospital with drips and dressed up wounds, I had really messed myself up! At 33 what was I doing with my life?? Luckily I was seen by this psychiatrist who sat me down and listen to my whole life story, I felt a sense of relief as this was a different kind of talk, I dint have to lie about my little “perfect life”. He dint judge just listen. He recommended that I be put in an intensive rehabilitation program and just like that, I was angry at him. What would my friends say, they would think am a mental case, Oh, lets not forget my dad, this would prove him right. No way was I doing this.
I was discharged from the hospital after a week. But continued see the psychiatrist two more time as I was still struggling to accept my problem, this is the only time I can remember, all my siblings coming together to show love and concern. I was on and off with the drugs and alcohol for about two months, but then one day I had a really big fight with my father, words were thrown around, and I was back in the hole again.
It took me a long time to accept and admit that I really needed help, and I finally got into rehab willingly. Being in rehab helped me and my family understand the causes and effects of the environment that we grew up in, how to deal with the current state of issues, it has taught me to be a better person, I have learned that blaming others for our mistakes does not help, I am more forgiving, more at peace with my family and friends and most of all I have learned how to cope with peer pressure.
I stayed in rehab for close to one year, well I could have gotten out after five months but I was not ready. Thanks to the discharge plan made by my primary counselor and my family, I can say that am slowly getting back on my feet again, it gets hard sometimes but I have the will and support to do this. In a month or two I shall move to my 4th discharge plan..moving in to my own apartment and being fully in control of myself. …..WISH ME LUCK…