Introduction

Hi everybody. My name is Molly E. Fisher. I am 23 years old, and the child of 2 alcoholics. I spent the first 9 years of my life growing up on an indian reservation in northern Wisconsin, and the next 9 years on the Mississippi gulf coast. My parents divorced when I was 7 years old; my dad went to rehab and my mom continued to drink.

The divorce was extremely devistating to my personal well-being. Living with my mother was a living hell hole, and with my dad in a rehab center, there was nothing anybody could do to make it better. My mother couldn't even take care of herself; how was she expected to take care of me and my 2 year old brother?

I can remember an Easter morning where she had passed out at the dining room table the night before. Her breath reeked with the smell of old booze, the phone laid on the floor with an irritating disconnected dial-tone. I remember being grateful my little brother didn't have to see her. By the time he had gotten up, the Easter Bunny had arrived...chocolate and all.

I can remember being left outside in the snow for 3 hours because school dismissed at 12, but my mom was at the bar until 3. I remember being dragged out of bed and beaten because she couldn't find the tv remote. I remember lies and strange men and name calling...dirty kitchens, unwashed clothes, and babysitters who became frustrated after she never came home. I used to try and forget these horrible memories, until I realized these events had a great impact on who I am today.

My dad, on the other hand, continued to stay sober. He remarried and moved to Ocean Springs, Mississippi. He eventually gained custody of my brother and I, but I was already psychologically damaged. I had developed some nasty habbits of lying, stealing, and over eating. My self-esteem was shot, I had a hard time trusting anybody, and I lived in a world in which I constantly fantisized about different lives...wishing I was somebody I would never be.

By the time I turned 15, I was smoking pot and taking pills. In my mind, it wasn't the same as drinking. My 16th birthday was spent in my first rehab stay, and I had already been kicked out of 2 schools. While in the state hospital, I took my GED test and scored in the top 10 percentile. After I got out, I started working as a waitress during a night shift. I started smoking pot again, gobbling up Xanex, Adderal, and Loratabs.

I had moved a few times during the next 4 years. I lived in Texas for a while with my best friend, moved back to Mississippi, and then partied with college kids in Auburn, Alabama for a while. While in Auburn, my mom passed away, and that was really tough (that will be another post). I started snorting a lot of Adderal, eating extacy, smoking ungodly amounts of pot, cocaine, and having a drink every now and again to "spice it up a bit." I finally decided to ask my older sister if I could come live with her in Georgia, and decided I was going to change my life around. Quit smoking, keep a job, go to school, have a life. But it is a lot harder than it sounds.

I'll be back soon to tell you how that turned out!