December 30, 2021 8:37 PM EST
I remember my aunt saying “just breathe it in.” I was five years old when my aunt, and stepdad were molesting me each time we went to my grandparents house. I had to please her orally, while he pleasured himself in the corner.
My Mom seemed to attract men who liked little boys, and left me alone with them while she worked to support us all.
At a very early age I discovered that if I put a substance into my body, it comforted the pain of whatever the men were inserting in me. My life as an addict began with the shame I felt. Shame that shouldn’t have been mine to carry.
When I was fourteen, I was introduced to my biological father. He shot me up with meth, for the first time after a month of living in his home. This began 36 years of IV meth addiction.
I believe, I’ll stop right here, and share more at another time.
My disease wants me to be triggered, and feel self pity when I share these time of my life. I will not give it the time in my head, so I’ll take a break.
In His Grip,
Foster
