About Mimi Lefever

J'ai 31 ans, mère de deux adorables petites filles (elles le sont vraiment! ^_^) Pips et Lia et je suis mariée a un ADDICT... I am 31 years old, mother of two adorable little girls (they truly are) Pips and Lia and I am married to an ADDICT...

Two poles…

Until recently I was only using Youtube for the music side of it. Then, I discovered Tyler Perry’s plays and started watching then moving on to short tv series etc… I would mention that I also used it for a year when I stopped relaxing my afro hair at an attempt to be “natural” – I know this has nothing to do with addiction or recovery in such but in a way I was let’s say self treatment myself from the power of the chemical hair relaxers. It worked so well that today I am hair free. Plain bald!
We are now Monday the 18th of March 2013 and it is 4.13pm, I am watching the american actress Jenifer Lewis on Oprah – again on Youtube.

I remember seeing her on television for the very first time in the Fresh Prince with Will Smith. In the episode I watched, she asked her one leg husband to stand up and dance with her – the whole scene was simply hilarious. She has that thing about her that catches and holds the attention. She can be loud, very loud – like me – she also has that grandiosity ( not snob for one bit but ever so little eccentric ) about her that I fell in love with right there. Since, each time I knew she was in a movie I was always making sure I watched it. She is simply brilliant, her acting is fabulous. She appears like a neurotic every now and then (nothing wrong with that really – we women we understand ;). Like many good actresses, she is so natural it’s as if she doesn’t have a script to read and memorise. There is no hiccups in her playing the roles she’s attributed at all. She is beautiful and has a great sense of style and humour.

Jenifer Lewis is her name and she is bipolar.

I must admit my eyebrows went up on my forehead when she pronounced the word. I so was not expecting this. I don’t know what I was hoping to hear actually when Oprah was taking that serious look and asking questions.

Bipolar disorder is very tricky to understand – for me definitely. I imagined it to be like autism or a very noticeable change of mood. I sure know it can be frightening” for a person witnessing it, it can be “strange” to see someone flipping pole in an “abnormal” way, it can be interesting to watch or it can be sad.

I can’t say much about it unfortunately. I am talking about it mainly because I found out the actress I so like suffers from it ( I still like her don’t get me wrong… )

It is good to know that medicines and therapies can provide a certain peace and relatively normal life to those suffering from yet another complicated mental disorder.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BU8_AHCHRXk

A day at a time…

This is how we should all live or at least try to live.
Yes our being is regulated by obligations. Work to go to which implies, a job to finish, a due date, an ultimatum, meetings and so on. Kids to look after meaning, plan the next trip to Legoland ( We haven’t done this yet ), book a jab with the nurse ( I am always asked if I am ok afterwards by the nurse ), organise a birthday party ( I hate these!). A partner to look after or care for etc… The list is endless.
Taking into account all above and much more, commitments we have wether they are necessary or not, urgent or not, primordial or not, it is vital to learn to deal with them bit by bit in other words a day at a time. Don’t leave to tomorrow what you can do now can work of course but just thinking this way will add pressure to me and I know to many people too.
We cannot just leave stuff for the next day because we have to live a day at a time, this is not real. Knowing that we do not know what tomorrow will be why stressing?
I know I will have to have the same routine every morning which is, shower first thing, getting kids ready for school and nursery and work. Then in the afternoon eldest daughter’s activities if any, after that go back home organise diner ( diner would have been on my mind for hours already ). Reach home, get changed into comfy clothes, run around the kitchen like a headless chicken and eventually feed everyone. Let the kids play after their diner bath them and put them to bed (same thing the next day unless I jump on a plane). This is my daily routine. However it can be changed by anything. Robin asking me to drive him somewhere, the school ringing me in the middle of the day, unplanned food shopping… just anything. I am rational person ( well I like to think ), whatever will play havoc with my day won’t make me go off rail, if I can say so unless it is something extremely dreadful.

Unlike me Robin does cope well under pressure. He actually works extremely well when stressed. How he does it will always surprise me. I guess his years in recovery and as a therapist have helped. I am sure people of his kind in order to run businesses need to be able to work whenever.

Addicts don’t like things to be changed, turned upside down. Whatever they know and are used to should be the same as much as possible and this is why taking live a day at a time is constantly reminded to them.
Funny I was dealing with one of my patients one day and I said just like that, “Well with me, it’s a night at a time” with a a big grin on my face. I was thinking about the famous quote at all. He sat there playing with his chin going “Hmmm Hmmm a night at a time, never thought of that. Quite interesting”. I thought I had said something really stupid or something forbidden 🙁 and he laughed. I was imaging Robin telling me off.

I know this sounds cliché but if we could only live just like this, a day at time, life would definitely be TOP! Books related to the quote are written and sold all around the world but how many of us can afford this luxury..? As the saying goes: Tomorrow is a mystery, yesterday is history and today is a gift!

Two persons for the price of ONE….

The care worker went to pick her up at her home… again. She had been with us a few times before for the same problem. Alcohol. I don’t normally see her arriving but that time I did and I wish I had not.
She couldn’t walk, she couldn’t stand. Her trousers were soaked with urine. I was leaving the office when I saw her being carried to the building where her allocated room was. Robin had to help, in total 3 people had to. I stood there my stuff in hand just staring thinking to myself, how come such a funny lovely woman find herself in a such a degrading state. I felt deeply sorry and sad for her but above all I hated what alcoholism was doing to her. Wow, I have changed and I am glad about that. Long ago I would have watched her with disgrace and think, well that will serve her right.

This blog was meant for my husband and I thought only him. Well, I don’t know why I assumed it was going to be the case knowing that I work and meet addicts every single day. I should rename it My Life With Addicts maybe…

I heard and read about her life many times, the states she gets into when she drinks but I just was not expecting this. The last memory I had of her, was when she left our premisses after a week a little while ago. We hugged I asked her to look after herself and she went.

This time was more painful as her husband and her were supposed to be celebrating their thirty year wedding anniversary. I even said to her, “he is going to hate you or better kill you, you know that?!” “Mimi you always have the right words, don’t you.” All I could say was “Oh I am sorry.” with my arm on her shoulder while we both burst out laughing in the office. I have to mention that I don’t usually get that close with our patients but she has something in her that I really really really like. I don’t quite know what it is, maybe the fact that she makes me laugh.

She has had a horrible childhood and can’t shake the memories off. I will not go into details here I am sorry.

It’s like meeting two very different people. The real one and the hidden one that comes out of the closet… too often.
The real one is the woman who when she talks about her daughter has sparkle in her eyes. The one who always has that fast reply when we all stand in the kitchen getting in the chef’s way. She would apologise give me the look, pretend to leave but would still be standing there waiting for God knows what. She doesn’t eat much so I always say that I’ll add my wasted meal to her bill if she carries on, I can’t remember now what she replies to that, I am sure it’s funny.
I saw her standing next to the group room one morning smoking when the others were entering the room. I asked her why she wasn’t following and she pointed to the fag (or should I write cigarette? Is fag slang? I’ll ask Robin later) she had in her hand. I joked saying didn’t she think it was maybe time to stop. She was puffing on it like a pingouin trying to get high. She looked so silly. She threw it on the floor and started to walk away when I said “Do you want Robin to moan about cigarette buds on the floor? I tell him this one if yours” She walked back and started picking all the cigarettes on the ground. I said “Woman get in there before they start.” I didn’t want her to use me as an excuse for being late. She pretended to run, boy she looked funny as hell!

The hidden on that comes out, way too often, goes to bed and wakes up drunk, every now and then in a paddle of urine.
The hidden on that comes out, way too often, shakes like hell and can’t even hold a pen.
The hidden on that comes out, way too often, looks angry sometimes but won’t show it, working hard on it.
The hidden on that comes out, way too often, will always try to leave treatment after just a couple of days. The craving is too much to bare.
The hidden on that comes out way too often, I don’t like it!

Typing these small anecdotes brings a big grin on my face. I miss her actually, although I wouldn’t want to see her coming back in a pitiful state. I would love to see her do a share one of these days and tell others how it was for her and that despite all the years of struggling with alcohol with all her trips to our place she is now a clean happy person. This, I wish it to her with all my love.

It took me a long time to write this. I was in two minds about sharing this with the virtual world. Tonight I am glad I did.

The “social” user…

A. “Would like a glass of wine?
No thank you, I’ll have some water or an orange juice if you have some.

B. “A glass of wine maybe?
Huh no, I don’t drink anymore.
You don’t? Since when? You’re kidding me?
No I just don’t. Anymore.
But why not? Come on I know you love your wine.
Really no, I’ll like a coke if that’s ok.
You’re acting weird but if you insist…

C.”Red or white?
(Should I say no, I don’t drink anymore?? Then they’ll ask me why and I’ll have to tell them the whole story… rehab, meetings, been sober for only a couple of weeks.. oh well) Ok, just one please (it won’t kill me).

I chose alcohol as it was first thing that came to my mind.

It is not easy being in early recovery. Trying to avoid the occasional parties, the happy hours after work, the family meals, the partner who’s still drinking and above all the comments from people who think they’re being kind/smart/cool/nice by insisting on offering a glass of alcool.. (this applies to all addictions I think).

People like Robin who have been in recovery for more than twenty years find it easy after such a long time to say a simple no and not have to think about what will come next. He’ll gladly say I haven’t had a glass since I was 23 (he is 46 now 😉 if asked about his refusal even joke about it.
A couple of years ago we were randomly stopped by a police car somewhere in Dover, the police officer asked him if he had had something to drink and he laughed answering that the last time he had a glass of alcohol was 18 years ago. The man said good for you with a smile.
I do feel for people, our ex patients, in early recovery., our ex patients, in early recovery. The pressure they have to endure must be unbearable. It is not surprising that some of them do relapse within a year of leaving treatment. I wish non-addicts or their friends and family members who are still drinking and don’t have a problem with that would just try to be sympathetic and just not insist when they say no when they are first asked if they want whatever it is they’re offering.

I remember when I first got pregnant, Robin bought me a book about pregnancy, to which I actually said what the hell?? Do I need a book to know that there is someone growing in my belly, that I’ll soon have the London tube map all over me, that my ankle will look like Bibendum’s right arm and that my face will near the end look like a battered football?? I only read the first line of the first chapter and that’s it. It said something along the line of, “When women are expecting their first child, the most common thing they all do is assessing their friendships and consequently getting rid of plenty of so called friends..” Yes something like that. I did do this!
Being in early recovery is the same. It does not come naturally but eventually addicts realise that they have to stop old habits if they don’t want to relapse. Old habits involve friends, stopping “good times”, the way they think and react etc… Tough, tough, tough, but worth it.

Now people, if someone says no when we’re offering a glass of alcohol, a piece of cake, a game of poker, a cigarette etc… we should try not to insist! Above all if it is someone we realise would have normally said yes to one of these things.
Listen to the shy no…

Not easy…

The other’s eye…

I have learnt to accept myself, not care or give a damn about what people think or say about me, about us. Some of my friends envy me, admire me, wonder how this happened, how I manage this or if it is not just a facade. I genuinely really don’t give a damn about what goes through people’s minds when they see me, or as Rihanna would say << I have run out of fucks to give >>.
Living by what X, Y or Z says or think about me is a burden too heavy to carry and so not worth the pain! No matter what one says or does people will always have something to say. It could be something nice or nasty and for me it’s… whatever and please do go on!

I grew up in a place where talking and judging people was considered normal as drinking water. Like most people it did affect me. We always consciously/unconsciously give too much effort and importance in what the other thinks. Well, I don’t, I stopped a long time ago. I don’t think (not care) about what anyone thinks about me on the contrary in a crazy way I want to shock them so that they will have more juicy stuff to talk about and fill their days and nights with. The blog isn’t part of it 😉 (ooooh ok yes it is hihihihi 😉

I have started by being me, Mimi, for quite sometime now and believe me it feels GOOD. I have shaved my big head completely one afternoon when Robin was away working in London. I am 32 now and only started putting lipsticks on and not your usual colours but orange (Lady Danger), purple (Rebel), lavender (Heroine.. of all names huh!). I am now buying, blue and green lipsticks. A friend asked me if I was having a rebellion? I replied no, I just want to be FREE by being ME and not what she wanted me to be. In a way it might be considered like a sort of rebellion but I would say no. I had a lovely childhood, my life was/is great so I am not rebelling 😉

I have to admit that not only do I owe this to my life and experiences here in the UK but most certainly to Robin. One day I asked him if he didn’t mind what people thought and said about him and his reply was priceless (like him) “Who?” But it wasn’t who talks about me, it was who, who is around to be having the time to talk about me Robin. I laughed and repeated the question he simply said no and carried on whatever he was doing. He so doesn’t care, I find it amazing. I do sincerely admire him for it! If it was only for him we would all be this way. We wouldn’t care less.
He taught me how to embrace life, live my life to the fullest, appreciate simple stuff like two cows chewing on their grass in the field, ducks floating on a river, spend my money on things I like and above all to be happy and not pay too much attention to details (the latest one is a bit of a challenge.. I am a woman doh! I am working on it and it seems to work, slowly but surely). It may be one of the reasons why he is so happy to say that he is an addict (in recovery). I did think that statement was just business related but noooo, it is also “I don’t care about what you think- related”.

Thank you Robin!

Life is way too short to care about other’s judgments.

Not ashamed… anymore,

To my friends who keep on asking me why I am writing about my husband’s problems on the internet or even talking about it in public I repeat and this time I also put it in writing, I am not ashamed. I am not ashamed anymore.
I was against mentioning the problems he once had but today I am, in a funny way, almost proud to share them. What people don’t know or refuse to understand is that by talking about Robin’s past with alcohol and drugs more often we will all realise that there is actually other people out there going through very rough times due to their own issues with addiction and that most of them are either in denial or don’t have the courage to address it. Some may not even think it is a problem that can be dealt with.

Yes, Robin is no longer using and has stopped doing twenty years ago but an addict will always be an addict. When I say to you readers, that my man was drinking and taking drugs every single day but now isn’t and doesn’t even imagine his life with any mood altering substances, I am actually trying to make you understand that there is hope, people can change.
Some people may think they are at the end of their life, they have touched the rock bottom, in short, that nothing can be done to save them. No it is not the end if they are still alive. Plenty of people have been through it and have managed to get out of it why couldn’t they?

If I don’t share, how would everyone know? How some of you, who like me had no idea whatsoever about what addiction was would know? Addiction like so many terrible things in life such as diabetes is a disease. It is not a behaviour (like I used to think), a way of life, a rebellion, an adventure, or something led by curiosity. People are born addicts. Robin was born addict, so were both his father and brother. It is a condition they will have to live with for the rest of their life. They have to work on it every single day (meetings, self help groups, paying attention etc…). Robin for instance does not drink alcohol in any shape or form. At home for example mouthwashes have to be alcohol free, coq au vin has to be coq au grape juice, any flambés (flambéd the english way) meals are done using alternatives and so on.
To reach that new lifestyle he had to change everything starting with his friends, hobbies, of course receive treatments…

I am not ashamed to talk and share about this, above all when I know it will help. I am proud.

Mimi Chin Up Lefever

The way I am…

As much as I shout, scream or even bark, I would never ever let my man down. Same with my children. Whoever hurts or disrespect him would automatically be on my black list for good.
Of course I would every now and then be your typical wife. I would curse him in front of relatives and close friends. Say how annoying he can be and so on. My mother can’t stand this lol. I sometimes wonder if she doesn’t love him more than me?! Woman, I am your child not him! He is white for Africa’s sake!!
In my culture the son in law is always right not the daughter in law but come ooooooooon!!
I would say bad things about him but I will never allow anyone to say anything nasty about him. Not in my presence for sure. I am his wife, cursing him is my right and my duty!
If someone does and I don’t react or simply smile that person should know that they have just drawn the biggest red cross on them. Robin would be annoyed with someone but after a while put it behind him and forget about what had happened (does he??) and carry on as if nothing ever occurred. I do not. I would rather have someone be mean to me than to him. Try to watch any female animal with their babies and see what happens when one of them is being attacked… This is what I am. I gladly become vicious. Concerning my children I don’t even want to write about it.
I would have left if he was still using when we met but not if we had had children. In my family, my country, my culture we do not divorce even if/when the husband or partner is a fucking piece of rotten shit that should have been aborted. It is like that and we accept it. However, nowadays we do have exceptions… unfortunately. People are leaving the continent the countries to study abroad and when they return to Africa, they return bringing in their mental and carry on luggages some western habits. Freedom ( for men, women and children), courage to dare doing things that are normally forbidden by society such as leaving someone for someone else, divorcing, smoking if front of adults for teenagers, baring tattoos for women, taking drugs and other insignificant/significant things (I would say this now). I am not blaming the West for my folks “emancipation” if I can call it like that. I am just mentioning a few things with the divorce in particular to show that back in the days a divorce or a woman raising her voice while talking to her man was a big NO NO (I wonder if I would have coped back in those years.. It would have been funny. I remember my spanish teacher in secondary school saying to me in front of the whole classroom that I was the kind of women that should be beaten up every morning from 4 to 6… 0_o. I laughed. I won’t today. I wish he could see me now.) kids smoking in front of their parents wasn’t even imaginable…

I am one of those who strongly and deeply believe in staying with a partner no matter what especially when there is a child involved. My mother did, both my grandmothers did and I know I will. Even if it means making my partner’s life hell on earth 😉
Some of you reading this (women especially) are right at this instant raising both eyebrows turning them into a colourless rainbow digging more lines on their foreheads. Well that’s me. I may regret it one day who knows but I rather do so than find myself 20 years along the line saying to myself what if, what if. At least I know what I am staying with rather than trying to check on the other side of the fence and find a grass so bitter it tastes like nothing. My life, my present and my future all this, is for my kids and my husband. Ivorian people say people marry against each other not to. I am married against Robin and I accept and love it!

I am not well phisically and mentally when one of them is ill. I hate Robin being ill, thank God it doesn’t happen frequently. Boy, does he get on my very sensible tit when he is, behaving like the child he is. Those are the only moments I wish we had separate rooms. At the same time, it wouldn’t work as I would not close both eyes and would spend all night checking up on him. Same thing with his snoring (sorry darling but this is my blog! ;). I hate it but will not sleep if he doesn’t or stop in the middle of the night. I imagine that he is not breathing anymore and panic takes over me. When this happens I nudge him a bit or turn him over and guess what… the symphony is back. I know I am crazy.
When my kids are ill, just imagine me.
I tend to tell people when they ask me how many children i have that I have 3, Robin being the eldest, Pips the middle one and Lia Chintaho the youngest. Lia Chintaho because she has chinese-mongolian like eyes. At one point when we left the hospital after her birth I thought the midwife exchanged her, but luckily she looks so much like her dad and as her paternal grandfather pointed out once when we told him she just couldn’t stop frowning, he used to do the same when he was a baby. From what I heard and saw Lia is a carbon copy of her father and grandfather at the same age, 2. Hopefully she hasn’t inherited their genes.

I over protect my family. I can’t stop myself behaving like an embarrassing mother with Robin in particular. Wether we are alone or in public I do things like removing ketchup in the corner of his mouth, you know, with the saliva on my finger tip. He hates it and the more he complains the more I want to get rid of it. Also, I am ridiculously hopeless when he is next to me chewing on something, because I will always say what are you eating and he will always reply, nothing. The nothing just raises the hair on my neck, I simply go for his mouth and try opening it wide. Do I care?! Nope!! He will eventually give up one day and reply the way I want ^_*
I remember us coming from Verbier in 2005 after a disastrous (for me that is) snowboarding trip, standing on the plane waiting for one of the crew members to allocate us 3 seats so that I could rest my left leg (I broke two ligaments in the back of my knee falling of the chairlift. Thank you Robin. 😉 I know what you’re thinking right now but I know you pushed me with your “Jum jump jump!”
Bref, (meaning in short in french. Some of you should probably buy a french dictionary. Some stuff are better said in my native language.) he had something on his face. I can’t remember what it was but i know I had/needed to remove it and he didn’t want me to because people were passing by. I promised I was sad with tears in my eyes. (silly me!)
Some people say the fact that I was born in July, being a cancer did shape my personality. I don’t believe in any of this but I should look into it one day. I just think it is the way I am. I am kind of the same with my friends but less extreme.

When I am the mother, I don’t care I just crack open his bubble.
When I am the wife, I let him be and give him his space.
When I am the friend, I try and don’t insist.

Mimi, me…

The stone heart…

It’s after eleven thirty and like every night I won’t be going to bed before midnight. The rest of my family is already in bed. Is this the moment I prefer the most? When I can seat in front of my computer, listen to my music and just type away and browse the web…?? I am not sure as I truly like it when my two little girls run around getting on my nerves and of course when the biggest child of all starts faffing around for God knows what. You must have realised that the biggest child of all is my husband…. the addict. I think I should stop calling him like this, after all it is not a plague (well sometimes honestly I tend to feel it is!).

I was looking at the header of the blog, the picture of the stones I took when we went to Cornwall for his birthday last year (Geez already?!). The picture was taken on the way up to the Mount St Michel (sometimes I wonder how I let him take me to strange places. The building was way up the sky which is a no go area for me. I like to know that my feet are firmly on the ground).
We were climbing up these very dangerous man-made steps when I noticed it. I got the camera out and took a couple of shots.
It’s now I can say, the best thing that I liked that day (I liked the other stuff we did, but this was special ;).

I have used this image for the header of both the french and english blogs as I feel it does actually represent the heart I have in my chest. Yes it is cold, and obviously hard but I think as a partner of someone suffering with an addiction problem, a mental problem, I cannot have a normal heart and live with my husband and above all love him to the point where I accept and will accept certain things.
As I said before, we non-addict are normal people (if I can say so ?!?), we see things in a way addict wouldn’t do, not even to save themselves from an overdose.
Yes they are bright, interesting, beautiful, amazing people but boy don’t they act and behave stupidly when they use or sometimes not… We just don’t see things and appreciate them the same way. It is frustrating!

The cold part of my heart helps me pretend to be blind in front of certain situations and behaviours. One can’t always pay attention to every single details, not if you want a relationship like mine to last. I am a woman and this is what we do best (after gossiping. To gossip is actually talking about insignificant stuff in a badly detailed way I would say) scrutinise. We watch whatever the people who live in the same home as us do with a microscope. Writing this makes me laugh now. Things have indeed changed over the years.
I don’t sulk and moan when he is in his bubble, I don’t ask questions about his “strange tuesday morning meetings” anymore. I just take things as they come (well to a certain point, I am not dead I am still alive with all my senses.) and I try not to rationalise as I know it will not work!

The hard part of my heart helps me overcome whatever is beyond me. I work in the field now but I still find it quite hard to accept a few things. My heart doesn’t sink anymore when he is “weird” (he has always been weird anyway, he was born weird!). I will put a smile on my face now when I deep inside feel like screaming or kicking 😉
One of my colleagues once said a very interesting thing to me when I thought I just couldn’t cope with him anymore. At first I laughed and told her she was crazy but she said no because it does work. “When you feel like spitting in his eye, kiss him instead” Duh!!??? Really?? When I feel like spitting I actually do worse (I can remove the eye, oooh yes!)
You have to have a certain maturity with a very strong willpower to do such a thing.
I do now.
I can look at him with a smile when inside me I am cursing the day he was born.

I am more tolerant now and less judgemental even if often I feel like shaking the addiction out of some people. I do say every now and then to my husband, such and such needed a good beating when they were growing up. I know this is mean… Well someone somewhere feels like me I am sure!

In order to love and above all accept our addict partners, siblings etc… We need more willpower than they do.

My thoughts…

What I think about addiction and addicts is completely personal.

I will start by talking about my own vision of the “thing” and this before and after I had a clue what this was.

As I said earlier, the before will be very short. I did not have a clue about what addiction was. I knew of course that one could be “accro”, addicted to chocolate, cigarettes, cocaine etc… but not to the point where the thing liked could take over one’s life.
Then came the other perspective of the “thing”. I started seeing addicts as people with no sense of power whatsoever. For me anyone who can’t just stop anything with a simple NO is powerless and I used to despise people like this. I am not ashamed to say so as my mind was already set. However this way of seeing things was what was incrusted in my mind until I discovered what suffering from addiction was.

Today I would say, the addict is the most selfish, self-centered and careless person on earth… but NOT because the addict has just decided to be so but only and I repeat my word ONLY because he/she is simply powerless with the illness.
Yes, addiction is indeed an illness, but one that is so dreadful and shameful that in certain places in the world it is still a massive taboo.
I have noticed that the word and its knowledge are well spread in West Europe, central Europe, the UK and North America. The other places such as Africa, South America, Asia and Middle East have for some the knowledge but refuse to talk about it and the others just like me years ago do not have a clue.

Him…

He is my addict… in recovery.

He was born in the 60s, the 2nd in a family of 3. Looking at the pictures of him baby, toddler and then teenager I find it really hard to believe all the things he did from the age of… 12. He is the proper description of an ADDICT. I would say he is an addict through and through.
Those who knew him when he was still using as he sometime says, won’t believe he has stopped and those who like me can’t even imagine him holding someone’s cigarette won’t believe he ever did use.
He started drinking when he was still a kid. Yes at 12 we are still children whether we like it or not or whether society acknowledges it or doesn’t, either way drinking and getting drunk at that age is outrageous to me.
It went from drinking to self harming and eventually to the serious stuff.
It’s funny but writing about it now makes me sad for him. I have known the story for a long time now, but it never had that effect on me. I used to have mixed feelings about the whole thing. Anger towards both him and his parents as I thought somehow they failed him. For me he was just a kid that needed a good beating (well I would have beaten the addiction out of his system!).shame of him, above all when he talks about the things that happened with no shame whatsoever not even a tiny bit regrets.

It is over 20 years now since he last held a glass of alcohol, smoked a joint, swallowed any kind of dodgy pills and snorted a line of coke. I was not around when this happened but I can assure you I would have probably dumped him… if this had happened when we met I don’t think I would have stayed anyway.

Him, my favourite addict in the whole wide world is Robin my husband.