Mel Cook
3 min readFeb 24, 2021

My understanding.

First off I would like to clarify. I do not claim to have the answers to addiction. I am not a trained medical provider. However, this is my story, about my life.

For most of my life, I can remember myself being an addict. At any given point from being aware of addiction, I was overthinking every question quickly to settle and then quick to run. I found low worth of most things and even lower self-worth of myself. I was lost. I was addicted to the thoughts. I was addicted to my surroundings I was addicted to love as much as I was addicted to hate. I truly became an addict.

Throughout my life, I have used many crutches or substances. My substances include pot, alcohol, money, prescription pills, fentanyl, methadone, suboxone. My stressors are people, places, things. My triggers are feelings, lies, deceit, and manipulation to name a few. I choose to embrace, creating a bittersweet taste for myself. At what cost you may ask?

For lack of a better word and yet to name one ….stupid. I was foolish. I thought I was in control and I started to spin out of control. I felt like I couldn’t handle life without using something. Everything positive and negative both equally shared my addictive thinking. I struggled to decipher what category to put each feeling. My substance abuse had a revolving door. Addiction was created embraced and lost aimlessly.

By me not understanding or being able to deal with a problem I created a bigger one for myself. As I struggled to clean up the mess I was in the more I seemed to struggle. By 21 years old I was hell-bent. Hell-bent to lose myself and hell-bent on finding help. At this time I started a methadone clinic. I was doing everything they said was right.. until it wasn’t right for me. Once again, I thought I was in control of my life. I played the scenario to do what I thought was better for me. I was addicted to methadone, feeling lost, and looking for myself. I abused methadone, I manipulated my drug of choice to fit whatever I needed. Once again the web of lies took shape. I continued to lie to people and cheat myself on recovery.

After finally getting kicked out I found myself clean from methadone but was still an active user. I found my way to fentanyl, suboxone, and meth. I still struggled to find myself. I struggled with feelings, and low self worth.

I was one to say how I’d never do meth. Boy, do we eat our own words? Meth, the one drug I said I’d never use, turned into…