by Mark M

Created on: January 12, 2007   Last Updated: May 11, 2007

Substance Abuse affects everybody. We all know someone whom "addiction" has touched. The fabric of our society is shot through with it. It destroys lives and families. It can lead to insanity, jail or death. It makes a person do things he or she would not normally do.

Why would someone continually put a substance into their body that they know is killing them and could cost them everything they love and care about? Why would a substance, a drug, or a drink, become more important than one's own family?

The answer is, because it "MADE ME FEEL GOOD!" Not just good, but wonderful, adjusted, and relaxed. It took away my fear and my anxiety! It eased or removed the pain I felt each day. It took away my dis-ease.

Unfortunately, it didn't last. I tried over and over again to get this same feeling back. I drank more, drugged more, hoping to feel better. I tried different drinks, different pills, searching and hoping. But these substances that tended to my every need became my hell, my addiction. These same substances that empowered me, I was now powerless against.

It turned from eliminating my dis-ease, to becoming "my Disease."

A disease of my mind, body, and spirit, that cost me my dignity, my health, almost everything I had.

I have been down the hole of despair and addiction, and by the Grace of God, pulled up and out into "the Sunlight of the Spirit". And now I know.. the way out!

As you can imagine my addiction took me places nobody should go. I did things under the influence that would make the hair on the back of my neck stand-up today. But that is the price, willingly paid. I would lie, cheat and steal to get what I wanted, what I needed! I spent countless hours and huge amounts of money on my addiction. I made myself miserable trying to make myself feel better.

This was not easy. I have a wife and family that loves me to death and a good career. Keeping my addiction a secret from loved ones and employers' was a full time job. I was able to hold it together early on, but the need to use overrode any concern for secrecy.

My addiction became more important to me then anything else. One can only imagine the torn feelings inside the addicted person. I drank to make myself feel better, then felt terrible about what I was doing to my family and friends, and drank more to forget that.

It became a vicious cycle. Not only that, but now I was physically addicted. I couldn't stop if I wanted to. I tried to quit; the pain of withdrawal is too great. Now I had two problems, a mental

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