I was called a "stuck up b..." by an addict

"stuck up bitch oh yea that wil makw mw feel better or do better to b around people who think their s*** dont stink no thanks"

Yep!  I was called that and more.  The funny part is, I came from that.  That family.  That mentality.  That area.  That trash talking.  That immorality.  That drug culture lifestyle.  Was never addicted to drugs, but don't recall much else being off-limits to me.

So, in a way, that young person is right.  I do have an elevated view of myself.  Why not?  Why should one continue to regard oneself as unchanged when they are, in fact, changed?  

I've lost 65 pounds of fat.  Would it be considered ridiculous if I continued to look at myself at 200 pounds, wore the same clothes, buckled my seat belt in the same place, struggled to tie my shoes and continued to complain that I couldn't walk around the block without getting winded?  Of course it would!!

Then why is it so outlandish that I act different because I no longer dress trashy; no longer act trashy; no longer engage in trashy behavior; and married and stayed with the same man for 23 years?  

Because, it's not my problem.  It's their problem.  They look at me and see what they could be and they are angry because they know they have to change to become better than they are.  They have to give up their love affair with drugs, alcohol and sex.  But they don't want to.  They are miserable as they are but will fight to the death to remain as they are.

"What is happy? Idk how that even feels anymore...."

"if people can't understand then dnt. I'm getting better!!!"

"some people just need to learn and be able to care about themselves before they can even start to get any better... thats what's helping me is helping myself..."

When I was growing up there were 2 things I knew I couldn't do and live.  Number 1 was back-talk my mother.  Number 2 was change who I was.  It wasn't until I moved away and continued to grow that I realized that I could become different.  I could change.  I didn't have to have a mouth like a toilet.  I could get a better job than just minimum wage.  I could get educated.  I didn't have to lay down with dogs and get fleas.  I didn't have to cast my pearls before swine and roll in swill.  I could be better than I was in spite of my surroundings, in spite of the people who raised me.  I didn't have to get drunk and get in fights.  It wasn't a "given."  It wasn't "set in stone."

When you change your circumstances or you take your circumstances and use them to better yourself, there will be those who say you are "stuck up" and "you think you're better than everyone."   What they are really saying is they are jealous of your success.  They hate you because they see what they could be if they only did one thing different, but they refuse.

Why do they refuse to change?  Who knows.  Sometimes the people around them hold them back.  All the pleading they do for them to change is a facade for the chains they have on them.  They may even think that no one could possibly help them so the addict is way better with them.   After all, if the addict went away, they may not have anyone else to feel better than.

You know you've hit a nerve when all they can do is get mad and cuss you.  Ah, but when they want drug money, they will forget your past transgressions and come crying about wanting to change and all they need is $150 - $400 for this wonder drug that will help them past their addiction  to heroin or pain killers or whatever.  They don't hate you.  They don't love you.  The fact of the matter is, they will say or do anything to maintain their habit and you are just a tool to get more money to feed their arm or their nose.

And if they are with someone who doesn't like you, they won't like you either.  Until they need you and they will need you again. 

I copied the following from a post on Facebook:

To all parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents and anyone who cares about anyone who is an addict. Please read this. It wasn't sent to me either, but I know young and old who are addicts and you need to know this.
If you have time read this, It was not sent to me but it sure stirs the nerves when this goes on so much in the world.
I NEED to get high,
I am not your child, or spouse, or friend. I’ve changed. I don’t belong to you any more. I don’t care about you. Not in the way you want me too. I care about getting high. I WANT to get high. I will do ANYTHING to get high. I LOVE getting high. I NEED to get high.. and I will step over you to do it. When I look at you, I don’t see YOU. I see a means to an end. You have money. I want it. End of story. I don’t care if you can’t pay the rent. I don’t care if you need groceries. I don’t care if you promised you wouldn’t give me money again. I don’t care if you lie to Dad. I don’t care if you’re broke. Sell your rings, take a loan, sell your electronics, max out your credit cards, borrow the money from someone else, because if you don’t, I will STEAL it. I WILL find a way to get HIGH. You think you can CHANGE me, or SAVE me. You are WRONG! Something cold and dead slithers within me. I no longer respond to love or truth. You can CRY all you want. I don’t care. I have no integrity or values. My morals are a thing of the past. I will say anything, do anything, and hurt anyone, to get my next FIX.

Although I may play the game with you, make no mistake. I don’t play it because I LOVE you, I play it because I want my DOPE. I will say what ever you want to hear, I will promise you the world, I will look you in the eyes, and I WILL break your heart. I don’t have a heart any more. I have a HUNGER. It’s calculating and manipulative, and it OWNS me.

In a strange way you’re thankful for my hunger. For when I feel it coming on, I find you, quick! Then when I’ve gotten what I want from you, I leave. You’re anxious without me. So you phone me and offer to buy my food, or pay my rent. You always GIVE me something.

By now, your NEED is almost as great as mine.  I can’t stay SICK without you. You can’t breath without ME.  You think you’re helping me. You believe you’re making a difference, but what you’re really helping… is my ADDICTION.

I won’t tell you this, but you know it, deep down.  If we keep going like this, one or both of us will die. Me from an overdose, that you paid for, and you from a heart attack, or stroke.

You’ll wait YEARS for me to change, or see the light, and I will take full advantage of this.

You will keep my secrets and protect my lies. You will clean up my messes and bail me out. You’ll love me to the exclusion of EVERYONE else.  You will become bitter and resentful. You will hide from your friends and isolate. You will HATE.

Your world will revolve around one thing only… ME.  But will your LOVE ever become greater than your FEAR? Would you be strong enough to reach out for help? Will you learn to say NO? Will you allow me to experience the consequences of my actions? Will you LOVE me enough to feel your OWN discomfort and stop enabling my ADDICTION?

I lay trapped with within the confines, of this dark cold, serpent -addiction, and I am, waiting…

The end?  Hardly.

Shalom!  Pray for the PEACE of Jerusalem!