Every weekend when I was small my parents loaded us in the car to visit the grandparents for Sunday dinner. The sucrets tin was waiting in the glove box with a joint. Other times we got in the car to visit their college friends, where the young ones were told to go away so the adults could play. I saw my parents fully out of it so much it alarmed me and I felt unsafe. Over and over for years. I can’t remember how many times I was hotboxed as a very young kid. I remember feeling the depersonalization though. It was the 80’s. There were uppers and downers and all manner of things everywhere. I was like 5-10 years old. I just didn’t understand.

Because of that early start, I avoided all drugs for decades, but am so familiar with the panic from the hotbox. The very smell put me into a panic attack for years after. I nearly threw up in my dad’s car from the smell freaking me out. I held it back bc I didn’t want to bother him with his car being dirtied.

As a young adult, I was diagnosed with depersonalization/ derealization disorder. I still have a hard time with it and I’m 50 now. It’s hard to drive or leave the house at all without a panic attack from feeling unreal. Certain angles of the sun, certain times of day…I’m fainting in panic attack.

My dad is gone and his ashes sit on my kitchen table for me to pass by and talk to several times a day. I like that for my own reasons. But it still catches me in the gut.

Am I alone with this? I now drink too much, and in the 5 months since my dad died I’ve been smoking his weed from his pipe every other night (his stash of weed and pipes were given to me by my stepmom when he died). It’s so weird. I suspect they wanted this for me so I’d hold space for them to continue their habit. I’m angry and sad but still responsible to do better and be better. I have one parent I love so much, but she still encourages me to numb out on alcohol and weed. This is NOT who I was for my first 30 years - I rejected all of it so much ppl might have thought I was a snob. I wasn’t, I was just so uncomfortable losing my senses to any substance. But it became my every day habit in midlife, and everywhere I look there are enablers. My kid hates me now. This is going to kill me. I’m only 50.

Does anyone else have boomer parents encouraging addiction they know will hurt or kill you, and take your kids out too?

I’ve been to rehab 4 times. They acted concerned for me, but if I’m being real they were more concerned for how it made them look to have their youngest kid struggle so much.

I’m making better choices now, in small increments, but I’m having the hardest time thinking I’ll ever recover enough to live to 51, let alone find my way to a better long term path. I feel like my days are numbered. My poor kid…