Ok here it is, I'm not going to dress it up or try to justify what I've done, it is what it is and all I can do now is not go back.
I was an addict from my teens onwards, I had clean spells, the longest was when I was TTC and then pregnant with DD, I didn't intend to use again after she was born. But I did.
I was a functioning addict, as much as you can be, DD was fed, clean, didn't want for anything but I doubt I was fully 'there' some of the time and there were things going on around her and people coming to her home she should never have been exposed to.
DH was an addict too and, when we struggled to fund our habit, a small time dealer. We lived in an area where it was pretty much normal, there was no need to make a secret of our lifestyle, no one batted an eyelid.
And then one night it caught up with us, the local scumbags realised we might have something worth stealing and kicked our door in at 1am. It was like something out of a film, 6 men in balaclavas with knives and a gun were suddenly in our living room demanding money and drugs. And then 2 of them went upstairs to search, upstairs where my 4 year old daughter was asleep in her bed. I begged to be allowed to go to her, could think of nothing but how scared she would be and that they might hurt her if she got in their way. It seemed forever til they finally let me go up, she was terrified and I held her tight while they ransacked the other rooms. I could hear them beating DH downstairs so I sang to her as loud as I could so she wouldn't hear.
We were lucky, none of us were seriously hurt and it forced changes we would never have made alone. Our housing association saved us really, they gave us an emergency transfer away from that area, we didn't deserve it really but it's given us a whole new start. I will never forgive myself for what happened to DD that night, it was our job to give her a home where she was safe and instead we were the reason she wasn't. Miraculously she's come through it pretty much unscathed, it's been 3 years and she barely remembers, I remember though.
I had PTSD type anxiety for about a year, couldn't have used even if I'd wanted to (and I did want to at times, despite everything) because it would have made the anxiety worse and messed with my medication. DH felt so guilty and responsible I don't think it even crossed his mind to go back to using. Bizarre as it sounds they did us a favour, we may well have still been there, living the same excuse for an existence if they hadn't done what they did. As it stands we're clean and happy, we live in a nice area with nice neighbours, we live a normal life.
So there it is, the worst night of my life and the best thing that could have happened to me at the same time, my wake up call I suppose. I wouldn't blame you if you thought less of me now you know and I'm not sure how my experience can be applied to your situation really. I guess the potential for our DC to lose us could be compared, those men could have killed us that night and you could kill yourself if you carry on drinking but that's the closest to a parallel I can see.
I can tell you that there is a better life when you're free of addiction though, that's my reason for posting on your thread all along. You live the same half life I lived for so long and it's a waste of your life, reality is hard sometimes but nowhere near as hard as running away from that reality becomes when you've been doing it a while. I could write a lot more, my reasons for using in the first place, the things I was trying to blot out so I didn't have to face up to them. I just wish I'd realised that facing those demons would be much easier than the demons I was creating by using.