JAMIE'S STORY

This is not a sob story. I consider myself to be one of the very fortunate ones.

Both my parents were drug addicts and are dead as a result of that. I was placed in care young. It was bad, and a vulnerable kid popped out damaged. Then, I was long term fostered by great people, but in my family, you just 'got on with it'. And, by Lord! I had no idea how to do that. At 11, I found drink and drugs, and everything changed.

The thing about mind altering substances for a person like me is they offer a wonderful sense of 'I've arrived, I've got it now': passion, purpose, focus and the pain I was carrying disappeared which is incredibly intoxicating when all I'd felt was lost and hurt.

Problem is, it's a veneer.

All the while, underneath, it's mining into the pain, my worth, shame, disconnection, and increasing my sense of emptiness. When my mind collapsed, I fell long and hard.

The only thing I could see that gave me relief was more drugs.

Like I say, I was lucky that help was available when I was finally ready to accept it.

I'm 10 years clean now. My life continues to grow, as do I.

Trying to help others like me, the fallen, is important, which is why I've written this.

If you can hold your hand out in some small way so when another fallen person reaches out, we are there to help.

The more recovering people there are in society, the better it is for all of us.

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