Living With An Addiction

From The Outside – Online Gaming Addiction

Family and friends sit back and watch a game taking over their loved ones life. It sucks them in, it makes them live a fantasy rather than a reality and that fantasy is now their real life. Anything outside of the game is not real.

The addicted is consumed by a game that leads them on a journey that doesn’t include their family and their friends. No matter what happens, their friends and family still love them but they are at a loss as what to do.

I was talking to a guy whose friend plays World of Warcraft instead of running his business. His business runs on its own while he plays for at least 8 hours a day. His words were… ‘Being addicted to the game is worse than crack!’

The sad part is a lot of people who are addicted don’t even realise it or they don’t want to admit it that they have a problem. Just like people addicted to crack, alcohol, gambling…. They don’t see that they have a problem, but others do.

But friends and family are pushed away or threatened and abused. Some online games require money just like many of the other addictions. There have been cases where gamers have sold items to continue playing the game, they pressure their parents into giving them money to buy gold or to advance to higher levels… some steal…

They have a need to feed their addiction and to do so the many hours in front of the game takes control of their lives and they are robbed of quality time with their family and friends.

Where does it end… for many, the addiction can go on forever. Family and friends slip away or a pushed away. Schooling is forgotten, many lose their jobs and some don’t even know what day it is…

How do you help people who don’t want to be helped or who have pushed others away…?

To be continued…

I had my first drink of alcohol at age 14, when I shared a bottle of 100-proof bourbon with two friends. One drank about six shots, got sick, and may have never been drunk again in his life. The second drank double that, and never showed the effects at all. In fact, he made fun of us. I, you see, drank almost all of what remained it that quart.

Needless to say, I got terribly drunk. I embarrassed myself in front of a bunch of people. I was caught by my parents that night – they may not have noticed a lot about what I was doing, but projectile vomiting in bed was hard to escape. They gave me so much crap about it, both that night and the following morning that I ran away for several days. It was almost six years before I began to drink on a regular basis.

There are some interesting things about that first night, looking back on it now. The first guy is normal. He tried alcohol, it didn’t work for him, and he left it alone. My other buddy was lulled by the illusion that he could “handle” his liquor into beginning to drink (and do other things) on a regular basis. In spite of this he did well in school, was a successful athlete and student, and seemed to be a phenomenal business success by the time he was 25.

He was always very good at not showing the consequences of his partying, in contrast to me that first night. I had to become good at it. When, at age twenty, I did begin to drink on a regular basis, I got sick more often than not the first year or two. I was fairly moderate in my drinking at first, because I was restrained by my fiancée’s obvious disapproval.

Left alone for a month before we got married, I drank daily. I ran through virtually every dime I’d saved working two and three jobs for several years before college. I embarrassed myself in front of friends and co-workers, and nearly lost both my jobs. As a matter of fact, my fiancée nearly dumped me. Of course, I apologized, I begged forgiveness, and I worked even harder, and lulled others into trusting me again.

That cycle – drink to a point of ruin before trying to climb out of the ashes – became THE common theme in my life. That first marriage ended badly; a second came along, and died a horrible death too. When the second marriage ended I simply stayed out of relationships for years on end.

I couldn’t stand to lose another person close to me, yet felt powerless to stop the behaviors that would inevitably drive them away. When, three months after completing alcoholism treatment for the first time, I got my first DWI, I knew I had to take action. I sold the car.

I haven’t found it necessary to take a drink or a drug for over a dozen years. By the time I quit I had been through treatment for alcoholism seven times – twice in four months there at the end. I have a wonderful significant other who does not need to be pushed away to protect her from me. I even own two cars now!

My life has been very different from that of my two friends. As I said, the first guy was normal. He drank, it didn’t agree with him, he didn’t try it again. My other buddy and I were different. I went on a twenty-year ride of highs and lows before I surrendered to the obvious and accepted that I can’t drink. The path of destruction I tore through my own life and that of those around me was obvious to everyone.

My other buddy was an alcoholic and an addict just like me. The consequences of his addictions manifested themselves differently in his life than mine did, but we were the same. He maintained that illusion of being able to handle it much better than I did. He managed to drink and drug away a million dollar business without anyone knowing. When it reached the point where he could not maintain that façade, he drove his sports car into a bridge.

I only wish he’d found what I did.

By Bill M

Many people pooh, pooh the very thought of someone being addicted to online games. The very mention of it to people who play games online is one of amusement because they don’t ever see themselves as being addicted to a game.

But if you were to mention this to a family member or friend of someone who they know plays these games continuously the reaction is very different. Their reaction is one of … ‘you too!’ ‘I know what you mean!’ ‘I thought I was the only one recognising so and so problem!’ ‘He doesn’t go to school!’ ‘He makes threats!’ ‘She won’t go to work!’ ‘She lost her job because of the game!’

These things may sound familiar to you…

Some of those online games include; World of Warcraft or WoW (as some may call it) and Everquest.

There are possibly others but these ones stick in my mind especially World of Warcraft. This game even though the owners and the people who sell this game and make millions of dollars from it, refuse to believe that this game can cause an online gaming addiction.

It’s like smoking and alcohol addiction. Fortunately other people have recognised that there are problems with this game and others and if you get hooked there are places online you can go for help and support.

What amazes me is that there are blogs out there where people can share their stories and other players come in and tell everything that they do… they play for many hours a day to build up their character, build up their gold and aim to get to levels that are higher than they have ever conquered… but they don’t see that as a problem nor do the game owners and operators. And they tell people that they are not addicted…

I admit some people aren’t. Some people can shut themselves off from the game once they close down. But others can’t. Many sit for hours in front of their computers. They sleep for a few hours or they sleep during the day so they can be awake at night to play for many hours with people around the world.

Men and women prefer to play the game over going to work, some go to work and continue to play the game. 8 hours a day is nothing really when they want to get ahead in the game. I’ve had people tell me that they watch their friend’s business not decline but run on auto pilot because the friend goes to work just to play the game while his business runs around him.

I’ve read of people who lose themselves in the reality of the game but when they shut the game down, they are lost in the real world. They live for the game because they see that as reality.

There is no age discrimination. From as young as 13 to men and women in the 50s and 60s play… they live for the game…

School children from the age of 13… refuse to go to school. They are fine the night before, the next day they are sick… they want to stay home to play the game. They want money to buy gold; they need more money to move up the levels in the game, the requests for more and more… go on and on…..

The get abusive, threatening and demanding…. They become almost reclusive. They push family away and yet they want them close when they want something, they find ways of selling things for more money to spend on the game… they threaten suicide… they commit suicide…

They don’t go to school, they lose touch with their friends and they abuse their family… and to think they are only kids in their teens…

To be continued…

It started innocently enough, a new computer, internet connection, curiosity and a chatroom full of excitement… fast reading and mystery. For an hour or so each day, she would sit in front of her computer, playing games, instant messaging, making new friends from around the globe. She was amazed at how the internet gave the lonely the opportunity to interact, the opportunity to feel no so alone.

Then, she discovered that she could be anyone she wanted to be, no one could see her, so, she became many. To some, she was twenty three, long blonde hair, blue eyes, an erotic dancer by trade. To some, she was a lonely widow, only online to chat, play cards and make new friends.

To others, she was a tall, curvaceous, leggy, charming, flirty twenty five year old, sometimes chatting from a white sand beach, other times from her penthouse apartment. Rarely ever did she present herself as she really was, an overweight 32 year old, studying to be a nurse, no one of real significance in society, just a small town girl, living a simple life.

She played a game of fantasy with the hearts of many men, leading them to believe that she really was who she said that she was and entered into a world of cyber sex chatrooms.

Stealing her way to a basement computer room and locking the door, she would live lustful fantasies into the wee hours of the morning, all the while, her husband of one year lay sleeping in their matrimonial bed upstairs.

He adored her and the very ground she walked on, buying her all that she needed, most of what she wanted, including the brand new house that she had dreamed to turn into a happy home for she, her husband and variety of pets. She had the world by the balls, so to speak, but her obsession and addiction tore apart her happy home, brick by brick, fight after fight, night after night.

As the tension between she and her husband mounted, she turned more to her online world, staying up all night, sleeping during the day, missing her classes, letting her housework slide. She was exhausted and it began to show.

When her husband confronted her, she would tell him that he was just jealous that she was on her computer, how selfish he was being for not wanting her to talk to her online friends, because they are just online, all over the world, without a chance of ever meeting. But, that was a lie and she knew it.

Having turned many a man’s virtual eye, having had cyber sex with most of them, fantasy became her reality and it had never dawned on her that just as she was playing, others may be playing too. A hard lesson to learn, but it did happened and it did hurt, in more ways than one.

Having given a virtual lap dance and serving a round of drinks to her fans, she watched as a new man entered her virtual realm. He wasn’t overly boisterous, rather mannerly, acting somewhat reserved. She served him a drink and he asked to talk to her in private. He described himself as tall, muscular build, not overly handsome, but well travelled, well educated and financially independent.

This is where she revealed her true self, her true body size, her life’s ambitions, but, neglected to tell him that she was married. For the next two weeks, she talked steadily to him, drawn to his passion and becoming addicted to his attention and affection for her, she had cyber sex with him nightly.

With her marriage crumbling around her, she found new love online and agreed to meet her internet lover, the man who claimed to make a woman melt with but one passion filled kiss to her lips.

Casting all common sense and self safety aside, she conceived a plan, a lie to tell her husband. She wished to work things out between them, but needed to get away for a few days, to think things over. Loving her the way that he did and wanting more than anything to build their relationship to what it once was, he agreed to give her this time alone, to think and work things out in her mind.

After six long hours on a bus, she walked into the terminal and he was waiting there, for her. Red roses, a teddy bear dressed like a nurse, her online lover greeted her with a gentle faced, boyish smile and kiss.

Tall he was, muscular he wasn’t. Although clean shaven and neat in appearance, his very large 400lb frame shocked her. And, as he waddled with her through the bus terminal to his less than fancy car, she wondered if, perhaps, she had made a huge mistake. “But, you can’t go by looks alone”, she assured herself.

His small house didn’t look too bad, but it smelled terrible, sour, it smelled dirty. “Perhaps a plumbing problem?” she thought to herself.

He took her to a lovely restaurant and showed her around town a bit, pointing out historical landmarks, showing her that he was proud of where he lived. She liked that about him.

He was funny, appeared sincere, looked at her with total adoration and, later that night, they made love. It was clumsy, awkward, passion was not really passion at all, but she chalked it up to the fact that they were both nervous and it would get better.

Meanwhile, back at home, her husband, not knowing the first thing about a computer, felt a niggling that something wasn’t right. So, sitting in front of her comp, he and his best friend probed for information, read her instant message history, read the emails from her online lover and saw that is where she had gone.

One email in particular had her lover’s phone number and a message saying, “Let’s make it real.” So, he dialed that number and in hearing her voice on the other end, hung up and his heart sank. Their marriage was over.

She moved to her new lover and found only unhappiness there. He was dirty, obnoxious, inattentive, and reclusive, had nasty habits, smoked pot and drank beer daily. Seven hundred miles from home, she sat at her computer, virtual lap dances for all the guys, making love and seeking love through words upon her screen.

Internet infidelity is still infidelity!

If you would like to learn more about cyber sex and sex addiction, please visit this site for more information. They also offer Sexual Addiction Self Tests

If you or someone you know is addicted to cyber sex, help is out there! Hope is out there…

~Serenity~

I swear that I could see him break out into a sweat, his hands shaking with anticipation, as the clerk counted out $50.00 in pull tickets. It was a big gamble, for a man handing over half of the last monies that stood between him and broke for the rest of the month. He was confident that he was going to double it up, hit the big one.

As he sat at our table, smiling, pulling, tossing losing tickets into the trash can, all I could see was a waste of money and enthusiasm. Suddenly his eyes widened and he laughed. Aside from three cherry tickets, he won $25.00. “Can you believe it? Last pull and I win twenty five bucks!”

Instead of cutting his losses and cashing in, I watched as my brother traded in the winners for a stack of new and pulled the last of his fifty dollar investment, tossing them, all losers, into the garbage. Although a bit upset, my brother waved it off stating, “They probably sold all of the big winners already, and are selling off the duds, just to make their money… jerks!”

The next afternoon, I get a phone call, the same distressing type I receive each month. My brother went to bingo the night before, needed one number for the jackpot, didn’t win, and was now flat broke for the next three weeks. He had crashed.

It wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. My brother is addicted to gambling. He’s a binge gambler. Scratch tickets, pull tickets, bingo, casino, my brother lives the thrill for a week after receiving his disability check. Sometimes, the monies don’t even last a week, only a few days, sometimes, less than that.

The casino is a place that my brother cannot resist. The lights, the sounds, the drinks, the prospect of eventually hitting the progressive jackpot keeps him on the edge of his seat and his wallet empty. He called me from there once, elated, beside himself, telling me that he had hit the red, white and blue on the dollar machine.

He had hit the big one, ten thousand dollars! I was excited for him, but asked for him to please, leave, leave the casino and take a taxi home. All of that money would be such a help to him and to think of how nice his bank account could be, that he could actually get an apartment for himself, start out on the right foot again. He assured me that, yes, he was leaving and would have security walk him to the cab.

The next day, I got a phone call. My brother was kicking himself, cursing the casino for tightening up the machines. Having won ten grand, he came home with twelve hundred dollars.

Yes, his obsession to gamble got the better of him and he stayed, dropping $8800.00 back into the machines before heading home. But as he said to me… “Hey, at least I didn’t come home broke.”

This is true, he may not have come home broke, but, because of gambling, my brother went for broke, by going back to the casino the next night, losing every last dollar and resorting to pawning an expensive gold horn I had bought him for Christmas.

Gambling addiction is a sickness, one that is not easily overcome. It is important to note that a gambling addict is not addicted to money; it’s the thrill, the action that they get their high from. For those who can stop at one scratch ticket or the occasional hour at a casino, it’s a game.

But, to those who cannot stop, gambling can and does take them from riches to rags and from rags to shreds. Many lose family, friends, homes, jobs and more, because they cannot bet with their heads, they gamble over it. And, unfortunately, some do pay the price for their gambling addiction, hitting a low, a point of desperation so overwhelming that they end their own lives, opting for suicide.

But, how can a gambling addict stop? Everywhere one turns, there lies the opportunity to gamble. Corners stores with their lottery and scratch tickets, casinos, bingo halls, race tracks, television ads, gambling online, all these can trigger an addict to gamble. But, all is not lost, there is hope, there is help.

“Gamblers Anonymous (http://www.gamblersanonymous.org/), a 12 step program fundamentally based on ancient spiritual principles and rooted in sound medical therapy, is a means of help for someone with a gambling addiction.

“Gamblers Anonymous would like to indicate that we are not soliciting members. Our intention is to highlight that gambling for certain individuals is an illness called “compulsive gambling.”

Gamblers Anonymous provide the message that there is an alternative to the destruction of compulsive gambling and this alternative is the Gamblers Anonymous program.

Our ranks are filled with members who have recovered from the illness by stopping gambling and attaining a normal way of life. These members remain ready to help any individual who passes through the Gamblers Anonymous door.”

If you feel that you have a gambling problem, please answer these questions truthfully.

1. Did you ever lose time from work or school due to gambling?
2. Has gambling ever made your home life unhappy?
3. Did gambling affect your reputation?
4. Have you ever felt remorse after gambling?
5. Did you ever gamble to get money with which to pay debts or otherwise solve financial difficulties?
6. Did gambling cause a decrease in your ambition or efficiency?
7. After losing did you feel you must return as soon as possible and win back your losses?
8. After a win did you have a strong urge to return and win more?
9. Did you often gamble until your last dollar was gone?
10. Did you ever borrow to finance your gambling?
11. Have you ever sold anything to finance gambling?
12. Were you reluctant to use “gambling money” for normal expenditures?
13. Did gambling make you careless of the welfare of yourself or your family?
14. Did you ever gamble longer than you had planned?
15. Have you ever gambled to escape worry or trouble?
16. Have you ever committed, or considered committing, an illegal act to finance gambling?
17. Did gambling cause you to have difficulty in sleeping?
18. Do arguments, disappointments or frustrations create within you an urge to gamble?
19. Did you ever have an urge to celebrate any good fortune by a few hours of gambling?
20. Have you ever considered self destruction or suicide as a result of your gambling?

Most compulsive gamblers will answer yes to at least seven of these questions.”

If you or someone that you care about has a gambling problem, help is out there, but you need to take the first step, and that is to be honest with yourself. Gambling addiction won’t just go away on it’s own, and before you place another bet, dab another number or scratch another ticket, ask yourself, “Is losing myself, perhaps those I care about worth the gamble?”

The right to a good and normal life is yours, and, it is possible. Seek help and take control of your life again.

~Serenity~

One Drunks Opinion
By Bill M

Most people would define addiction as “dependent on something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming.” That is certainly an accurate description, but it’s not complete. Princeton University, for example, includes the words “being abnormally tolerant to [and]” in front of that. The mention of “tolerance” before “dependence” is no accident, and it is very important in understanding the concept of addition.

Let me give you an example. I had my first drink of alcohol at the age of 14. I “split” a full bottle of 100-proof bourbon whiskey with two classmates. It was our bottle; after all, we’d worked hard to sneak it out of the liquor cabinet of another friend’s house.

Actually, split is kind of a relative term. One buddy drank four shots, retired to the bathroom, and (his words) spent the rest of the night hoping he didn’t puke up his toenails. The other buddy drank around ten shots, and was about as goofy as I’d ever seen him until he fell passed out in the back yard.

He was still there when the sprinklers came on at eight o’clock the next morning, and his father was not amused when he was startled enough to spill coffee when he jumped up from behind a bush.

Me? I killed the rest of the bottle. I was proud of that fact for a long, long time. Even after I learned, years later, that I could – probably should - have been dead from consuming that much alcohol, I was proud of it. I’d like to say that I never suspected that the effect alcohol had on me that very first time didn’t scare me as much as it made me “proud.”

Almost all “normal” people who start to use alcohol develop a tolerance to it. Many alcoholics do too, but they often start out with the ability to handle much more alcohol than others do. That’s a true double-edged sword, however, because frequently the tolerance fools you into believing you are more in control than you are.

For years and years, I was the guy who drove everybody home, because I didn’t seem drunk. The truth of the matter is, however, I was probably seldom sober. I was probably legally drunk until far into the next day, even though I went to work and was as productive enough to get promotions and win awards.

Another example from my own past is downright scary. A Navy friend and I, already drunk, were egged on by a crowd of others to compete by chugging half-pints of Schnapps. We obliged – twice, as a matter of fact, and were starting on a third contest when he passed out. He did so in a way that worried some of the folks we were partying with, and they went to check him out.

Apparently, I got scared at that point and left. (I used to black out when I drank, so I have to fill in some “blank” time with what reliable witnesses told me.) In the confusion surrounding my friend passing out, I managed to get to my car and drove away. I didn’t get far – I was stopped within one hundred feet of the parking lot by a policeman who saw that I had difficulty getting into my car.

They took my buddy to the base hospital, where he was admitted for alcohol poisoning. He was not discharged for four days. I ended up there, too, only I was taken there for observation after a series of breathalyzer tests indicated my blood alcohol content was .32 (four times the legal limit for driving) and kept going up.

The police, not wanting a case of alcohol poisoning on their hands, took me there for observation. I never did pass out, and appeared (according to the records) to the hospital personnel as if my blood alcohol content was barely over the legal limit.

That’s the danger of tolerance. Alcohol is a chemical, and the effects on the body are predictable. I was no more or no less drunk than my buddy. His body responded naturally – he passed out.

Mine did not. By that point in my drinking, I could have literally drunk myself to death in a single session of drinking and had none of the natural defenses that the “normal” drinker would have had.

It can sometimes surprise when gamblers are exposed. But would one ever think or even consider a woman to bet on sports. Well I know a few that do because I had a female relation that once bet on the dogs but apparently it was quite rare for women to deal with bookmakers.

Being a high roller comes with a high price. Click here and you can read about this sport’s wife who is a rare high roller. It is alleged that she embezzled $US300000 from her employer to feed her addiction… of course that is a crime and she had to do her time in a state prison… You can read the story here:

Out of all of this though, some good has come because now there is help for other women who have become gamblers… That group is called Women Helping Women and it is a support group for female gamblers.

I need more money… I need it to buy some supplies… it’s that time of the month… I need some money to buy some pain killers…. I need… Could I have $20?

The times that there was a request for money for something were incredible…. I new something was up, but I didn’t know what…

From the outside I watched the ferry roll in. It had been a long night for them but they had a cabin thank goodness because at least she could hide the bruises. After a long night on the ferry, they finally arrived for us to take them to a place they should have been able to call home…

I noticed a bruise and asked about it… out of idle curiosity mostly… she had a fall… instincts told me otherwise and when we had a few moments alone I asked her… ‘No, it was only a fall…’

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months… the need for money continued. They were renting a small unit and the rent wasn’t paid… things started happening… but at the same time they were hidden from people on the outside.

Until one night there was a cry outside. He was looking for her… he admitted to beating her… but he didn’t mean it.

I had a call from her and found out where she was. He had beaten her because he had no money to place another bet. He had beaten her because… but he didn’t mean it. He never meant to hurt her… if she had just…

Yep her fault again for his inability to control his addiction, but it wasn’t his fault…

I visited her at a Women’s refuge where other women were trying to persuade her not to go back to him. This place was hidden… but somehow he found her and because he had drummed it into her head that no one would ever want someone like her, she went back to him… love is strange really, but so is emotional and mental blackmail.

They moved to a different city, the bashing continued, the need for money continued. He stole; he sold everything to get a couple of bucks. He sold belongings that didn’t belong to him… anything he could get his hands on.

When he lost or when he didn’t have money, he defused his anger by beating his girl. Finally they had no where else to live and his grandfather took them in. She finally had a job, but the first day she arrived she had a black eye…

Finally there was something for her to live for. A light at the end of the tunnel… a guy I know helped her get the job. He was almost like a grandfather to her but she had some relief from that anal wart… She could live her life…

But he hated her being far from him. I guess he was worried that she would tell all. But the bruises he left was enough for others to know what was happening. A girl can only fall down so many times…

With the help of a friend who took her in, she was free of him. He was told not to go anywhere near her…

But the scars of what happened will last forever… it is easy to get on with life but it is hard to forget…

I’m glad this girl has found some stability in life. Every day there are reminders of what happened many years ago but she has the support to help her now.

Gamblers are one thing…. They have an addiction. When they start to inflict physical abuse on others because of their addiction one can only assume that that addiction is going to be hard to beat…

Toni

What it was like to live with a woman-bashing gambler…

my story as told by Cassie (name changed for obvious reasons)…

I didn’t realise how bad it was at first, just a few bets here and there. It couldn’t hurt, right?

Wrong! All our money from as little as fifty cents went to the races.

He started selling things, just to gamble. We had almost nothing. I wish I had never got into such a relationship. I really thought I loved him. Got engaged and all. He even sold my ring to some guy for $20 – I hope it was worth it…

He didn’t have much luck and soon the verbal abuse started. It was always my fault that his horse or dog didn’t win. He then started shoving me about. It turned into physical abuse. I fought back but it just made him wild and I avoided eye contact with him, his eyes were just too scary to look at when he was in a mood.

The police were involved a few times. Once they took me to a Women’s Refuge but the very next day, I went back for more.

I now have stuffed knees because he pulled me down a set of stairs. One hit the concrete why the other jarred on me. I couldn’t go to a doctor though as he reckoned I would tell them what happened.

We went to court once, but thanks to his grandfather all charges laid on him were dropped and silly me still stuck with him.

What is love if you think you love that?

They make you believe they love you and no one else can. You won’t be good enough for anyone else, only them…

Boy was he wrong!

We moved to about the 6th house we’d lived in so far and I managed to get a job close to him. I had a black eye the first day there. I don’t know if it was pity or not but a guy befriended me. He was really sweet and I felt comfortable around him. Well as comfortable as a person could feel after being treated like shit for a year and a half.

With a lot of help from a friend next door who came over a number of times to get me out of the crap and this new guy from work I was out of there.

In safer arms… No more bruises and my fear slowly disappeared, but the memories stay. I do think I am a lot luckier than a lot of women in the same situation. I could have stayed and who knows what could have happened.

If I could give any advice it would be to get out of it. You can do better and there will be someone who truly loves you.

Keep your money and your pride.

You shouldn’t have to hide behind a mask of bruises and sadness.

Cassie

Living with an addiction is something that many people will never admit to. I started this site because I know of people who are living with an addiction and I know people who have family and friends that are addicted.

Personally, I have seen families start to crumble because someone in their family has an addiction. The ages of those addicted range from 13 to 75, so you can see that addiction doesn’t discriminate when it comes to age. The addictions vary from alcohol, gambling, online games, drugs and nicotine.

Some admit to having an addiction while others would never dream of mentioning that word and don’t see that they have a problem.

When many people think of addiction they forget the families and friends that are also affected by that addiction. Families can only sit back and watch as their loved one sinks into the addiction and that addiction controls his/her life. It controls the families, the mums and dads, brothers and sisters and partners.

I started this site because I have seen the pain that it is inflicted on those close to the addicted person. I’ve seen the bruises, the pain, the tears and I have seen bank balances drop, businesses start to slow… and yet those addicted get on with their lives, with their hand out asking, begging, stealing and wanting more to help with their addiction.

I’ve seen the anger that they display when they can’t get their own way, when they can’t get that fix that they so desperately need.

Watching them destroy their family one minute and then they appear as if there is nothing wrong, or they admit that they have a problem to keep the peace, they become nice to their family, they show their love…. This process appears to make their families think that they are coming along nicely and want help or they make their families believe that there is no problem… until they want more… they need that fix.

When an addiction takes control of one’s life, it is hard to go back when the person addicted doesn’t want help. In some cases it is also hard for families to get back on track because they find themselves in a hole because of the hold that the addictive person may have over them.

An addicted person needs to get their fix… their alcohol fix, their next hit; they need money for their chemical addiction just like gamblers need money to see if they can win.

Online gamers sit for hours in front of their computer, they don’t go to work, they don’t go to school, they abuse their family members one minute and are sweet the next. If they can’t get what they want… they abuse their family members and friends, they inflict pain, they use emotional blackmail to get what they want… they won’t accept the help when it is there for them…

Many addictions are similar, because many family members and friends of the addicted person are caught up in a cycle of emotions, the ‘not knowing’ and the feeling that there is nothing they can do…