Relapse. Over and over

Today was another good day. Until I got home.

My dad came inside and started slamming doors.

Then he said “we can’t do everything alone so I need someone to come out here and help me or I’m going to burn this fucking house down.”

Since I knew he was mad I was hiding in the bathroom because that’s a safe place for me. Then he says that.

Then my sister goes on a rant because we had a great day and we got home and were told that.

Now I’m hiding in the darkness of my own room debating on if I should pack up more of my shit or make it harder and cuddle with all my stuffed animals because honestly that’s the only way I see myself coping right now.

I have half my room packed already. Every time this happens I pack a little more and more.

Now I’ve relapsed again. I made it 25 days.

I know. Count the clean days. Relapse is a part of recovery.

The metaphor for my life is like picking a scab- it won’t heal if you keep picking at it. While living in this house I have no hope anymore. I have no hope of getting out. No hope of staying clean.

I talk about my issues too much. Maybe I should just shut up.

There’s no hope for me. I’m too weak to live.

1 Like

I wish I had something good to say. If I did, I would definitely say it.

It sounds like you’re making a plan to leave, do you have somewhere to stay all picked out?

Hey friend. Im really sorry that sounds super hard. Is he abusive or dangerous? Is there any other family you can stay with? If you feel as if your in danger call cps or the police and you are SO strong i’m proud of you. And I understand relapsing is hard but don’t beat yourself up for it just breathe you got this. hug hold fast we love you:) <3