Social Stigma Stole My Family and Prolonged My Suffering!

(Taken from my official website, www.liliville.com! Please visit & follow/share to show your support-thank you!)

After suffering for an agonising nine years of my life with addiction, it still shocks me to admit that the widest hurdle inhibiting my recovery was caused by society’s ignorant and uneducated stigmatisation of addicts. The social stigma and stereotyping associated with addiction should be an ancient notion, however, it is the prime reason denying sufferer’s basic human right to treatment and recover today. It seems that when societies are unfamiliar or uneducated on the facts surrounding a societal issue, a biased, negative opinion is formed which ‘dehumanises’ the people affected. Although most religions encourage us to help heal “the fallen”, “love thy neighbour”, and to “do unto others as you would have done to yourself”, it seems that no-one has anything of the sort in mind when it comes to supporting and empathising with addicts. The tragedy of addiction stigma is apprehended by everyone from family members to medical professionals, often deeming addicts as weak, uneducated, trouble-making, shameful low-lives that are responsible and deserving of all the pain they suffer. Addicts are often perceived as belonging to stereotyped categories such as the unemployed, school drop-outs, criminals, prostitutes, homeless, indigenous, or the poor. The general attitude worldwide is that punishment is the justified treatment for drug addicts, as opposed to medical and psychological therapy and rehabilitation. It is to my knowledge that it shouldn’t matter what age, race, or social class you belong to, everyone should be treated with love, empathy, and understanding, and with every right to treatment. Addiction can affect even the best of us, it doesn’t discriminate. I believe that my story not only proves that trauma is a common cause of addiction, but also that the ridiculous media-generated stereotypes of ‘the addict’are often completely wrong and irrelevant.

I was raised in a “well to do” family and often scored the highest grades in each of my school classes. I graduated with a double-major degree from University and always had a healthy and happy social life. I was responsible for all my finances and I afforded many overseas trips which taught me a lot about the world and other cultures. I was also successful in employment and was constantly setting new goals for myself to achieve. However, I suffered from EXTREMELY traumatic events whilst working overseas which sadly saw my beautiful, whole, happy life deteriorate rapidly. I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after being bashed, strangled, and raped, as well as an Organic Personality Disorder diagnosed secondary to a near fatal brain haemorrhage caused by two developmental angiomas; a birth defect which hadn’t been detected in my younger years. The trauma as well as the brain damage I suffered contributed to the complete loss of my “self”.

After returning home to Perth, my subconscious responded to agonising memories and I soon became plagued with fear and horrifying nightmares. My mother said that I woke her each night, screaming for “help” in my sleep. Drowning in darkness, I started to abuse copious amounts of alcohol to conquer the pain of my PTSD. Not a single person in my family seemed concerned enough to hear of the traumatic details that had caused my hell, nor did they understand for one second why on earth I would be suffering the way I was, locked each day and night in my bedroom for about a year. There was no healing inspired discussions, no empathetic responses, no consideration for the fact that severe PTSD and an OPD were responsible for the “weak” and unrecognisable way in which I was now living my life. I wasn’t ever asked if I was “okay”, instead I was shamed and blamed. They told me that the “beautiful” girl they remembered was sadly wasted away and that if I didn’t pull myself together, they saw no hope of me ever regaining the immaculate and successful girl I used to be. I spent each day and night locked in my room, in bed, and only left the house to walk to the bottle-shop to purchase what I needed to send myself back to a comatose-like state thus avoiding the infinite pain I endured each time I awoke.

My alcoholism was embarrassing for my mother who wanted me “gone” from the house and she was constantly yelling at my father demanding that he do the right thing and defend her in kicking me on to the streets. Relationship difficulties within families and even abandonment are common problems for suffering addicts. Later, I attended residential rehabilitation and was unfairly kicked out of the program due to a misunderstanding that the program leaders later apologised for, inviting me to return as soon as I wished. However, this was too late as my mother had officially ‘disowned’ me by forbidding my return to the family home. When my father heard I was staying at a junkie’s house and had slashed my wrists in despair and grief, he too was told that if he came to my aid, he would not even be allowed to return home to retrieve his belongings.

My father and I ended up living together and thus my family split up. Although I will NEVER FORGET the sacrifices my father made each day by choosing to support me, I still struggle with the concept that addiction stigma and prejudice caused my mother to view me as weak, juvenile, conniving, and responsible for my deep rooted illnesses. As this is how many people in society view addicts, my sister, grandparents, aunties, uncles, and cousins were also swiftly convinced that I was now a useless piece of dirt and that it would be completely absurd to continue any form of communication with me, which included the exclusion of all family gatherings. The pain of family abandonment caused me to plummet down in to the “13th Circle of Hell”. I became a full-time ‘meth junkie’ and it was as if my every ounce of life spirit had been completely syphoned out of me and exterminated. I was a ‘null and void’ empty shell desperately searching for myself. Each Christmas that passed reminded me of my worthlessness whilst I endured personal torment at having to spend my favourite day of the year completely alone, further internalising the ‘dehumanisation’ instilled upon me. It has taken me many years to finally start recognising that I did not deserve to suffer in the fierce, fiery hell-hole I had fallen in to. I was powerless regarding my traumatised and addicted state. I was ill and I needed help, love, support, and understanding more than ever. I needed a helping hand out of there.

I am grateful for my recovering life after a few angels finally found me and and helped lift me back to health, happiness, and safety. I assure you that we all want help even if some of us appear nonchalant to passing offers of assistance. After now being clean for a year and a half, I am deeply saddened when I hear that addicts are left with little defense against the inevitable internalisation of the negative and harsh opinions expressed by others. Broken families and relationships-broken souls-arise from the misunderstanding, misconception, and misjudgement of addicts and the addiction illness imposed by society. These unfair ideas and beliefs act as a barrier to achieving recovery, often causing the addict prolonged suffering. Like other addicts I have felt abandonment and isolation, severe depression and helplessness, fear, frustration, and a completely diminished sense of self-worth. I felt like I was a ‘loser’ and I felt embarrassed at the idea of informing anyone of my desperate predicament. This inevitably turned the act of requesting help in to something that was simply not an option for fear of being further rejected and gossiped about. No longer would I be known as the successful girl who graduated top of her class at Uni and whom achieved the dream job overseas. I would be known as “the low-life alco” or “the disgraceful junkie” who was now begging people for help. All this meant that an illness that could have been cured in one year, lasted eight disturbingly long years.

I understand that there are various circumstances and factors surrounding the lives of addicts. Perhaps others have not suffered from traumas similar to mine. Either way, the darkness surrounding the life of an addict should not be measured. It should simply be a clear indication for urgent help and support. I believe that there needs to be some sort of mass education to society of the destructive implications and repercussions of unjust social stigma. Today’s stigma needs to be recognised as a sort of handicap, producing impaired and unhealthy ideals about addicts which are the direct result of ignorance and narrow-mindedness, historically developed out of fear of the unknown. When this occurs, reality and fact surrounding a situation is no longer acknowledged. That situation being that ALL addicts, no matter the circumstances, are to be held in the same regard as other disease sufferers; with love, empathy, and understanding. Addicts are a large group of compromised souls DESPERATELY NEEDING AND DESERVING OUR ATTENTION so that treatment and recovery are just as important and accessible as they are to other patients. If we broaden our minds we can prevent conflict and misunderstanding from occurring so that friends and families are more likely to exist as encouraging and strong support networks assisting the recovery and perseverance of addicts. If you have or know of a loved one that is suffering from addiction, please stand by them as much as you can; abandonment and ignorance is definitely not the answer.