Understanding the Roots of Addiction and Its Impact on Lives

I want to start by saying some of this content is hard to hear and can be triggering for some. In order for people to understand how I got to the places I did, they have to understand the path that led me there. I also want to say that there was a point in my life where I can say my decisions were mine and mine alone, and I take full accountability; however, they were strongly influenced by choices in my life I had no part in.

My first childhood memory was sitting on this toy you wrapped your legs around and spun a wheel to make you dizzy. I remember loving that toy and laughing and having the time of my life. We lived in an upstairs apartment with some, we will say, safety concerns. It was a two-bedroom, one belonging to my mother and whatever male she was entertaining at the time, and the other my brother and I shared. My brother was three years older than me, and he would tend to stay out of the house due to my mother's addiction and abusive behavior. I was on my toy, spinning and having a good time when my mother came in and said they were leaving and I was to stay in the house. I believe I was 5 at the time, but for some reason, ages and some events have blurred over time. In this apartment, when you went out the door, it led to a very steep, narrow stairway that led to the ground. On the right side going down was a window I had to rush by because we had a neighbor that would make it his mission every time he saw me to please himself in front of me. My mother told me just to hurry by the window; he was harmless. I stayed upstairs while they were gone; it must have been a couple of hours, so as I sat there, I thought about making my mother happy, and the only way I knew to do that was to give her alcohol, so I decided to make her a drink. At that age, mixers aren't something that you understand, so I just put some ice in her favorite Mickey Mouse glass and filled it with vodka. When she got home, I was so excited; I just knew she would be happy, but that was very short-lived. She had apparently already had a few, and it upset her that I made her drink wrong. I was sitting at the kitchen table, and out of nowhere, she hit me so hard I hit the floor, and it took me a minute to understand what had just happened. As I lay there listening to her tell me I was useless, the man that was there picked me up and assured me she didn't mean to and it wasn't her fault. I believe he had to either have some kind of faith in her or he actually loved her. He put me in bed and told me I would feel better after I fell asleep. As I lay there crying, I couldn't figure out where I had gone wrong and only wanted to apologize, but fear kept me in bed. The next day, it was as if nothing had ever happened. My mother and this man were together off and on for a few years. He had a son almost twice my age, and when mom and her partner were in pretty bad shape, we would "camp out" in the living room on the floor. I was 6, laying on the floor with this teenager, and he told me to get under the covers, and he was going to show me what they were always doing back there. This is the day my innocence was stolen.