On when to stop.

about three weeks ago my GP told my mother that i do cocaine.

He got the information from my psychiatrist who i was stupid enough to tell about my usage, even though i came to him with my bipolar disorder, not a drug problem. My psychiatrist persuaded me that all the information i share with him is absolutely confidential and that my GP would never tell anyone, not even my family, even if they beg for it. The thing is my mom and my GP are a bit friendly so he felt obliged to tell her that i have a cocaine problem. Well, I don’t have a problem actually. I’ve been doing cocaine for the last two years and i do about 2-5 grams daily, but i can stop for days and weeks and yes, i do constantly think about it, but it’s not a pain in the ass. So i don’t have a fucking problem. He insisted that i am on the verge of dying and i’m in desperate need of help.

Needless to say my mom was terrified. I somehow made her believe that he is a bullshitter and i told her that yeah i tried coke once but that was it. I think she bought it, but she took me home for 2 weeks (we live in different countries) to make sure that i am not addicted – she doesn’t really know how the whole cocaine addiction thing works with me and she realized that i’m not an addict.

Anyways, she told me that i’m not going out anymore. No clubs, no bars, no pubs. She is going to cut off my money supply to a minimum and etc. I know that time heals everything and that in 6 months she won’t even remember this (or fuck knows actually. she might). I have no intention of stopping doing cocaine. (I’m not going to get into this but I’m a deeply unhappy person and all medication i tried doesn’t work, so I self-medicate this way. It helps. A little.)

What i am most afraid of now is that my mom would need to see our GP at some point and he might start his bullshit again. He might tell her the extent of my usage, showing the notes from my psychiatrist. I am paranoid and terrified. I get panic attacks all the time from this.

I want to sue the living fuck out of this GP piece of shit, but i don’t earn enough money yet to pay a lawyer and if i sue him my mother would definitely know that i’m a full-blown user.

What should i do? I know i sound pathetic. I know i do, but need to get some advice from someone besides my few friends. Also, excuse my English. I’m not a native speaker.

Thank you.

Alexandra / 20 y.o. / London

The first time I glanced through this I got super pissed at your doctors. I was totally on your side, and felt what they did was a violation of doctor-patient confidentiality.

Then I read it again. Two to five grams daily? What the fuck, Alexandra?

I do blow all the time. I’m pro-drugs and anti-authority. I’m a completely detached third party listening to your side of the story who is neither a friend nor family member. I’m shooting you straight and I know what I’m talking about.

Please believe me when I tell you this. You have a cocaine problem.

You do drugs for all the wrong reasons and it’s time to stop. You’re not having a little fun on the weekends. You’re self-medicating major psychological issues with a toxic amount of cocaine. Shit’s gonna kill you, babe.

You’re obviously intelligent, and if you can casually hide a thousand dollar a week habit, you also must come from money. We all know where this leads. You’re the one who gets an awkward high-church funeral with a lot of people whispering things like, “what a waste.”

Problem is, your family is old guard. They don’t have a fucking clue how to deal with you. Odds are, whatever they try to do will just fuck you up even more.

I’ve seen your kind before. Within a month after mommy turns off the money faucet, you’ll find yourself in a back room rationalizing the sexual favors you’re performing for the lines on the countertop. Somehow, you’ll convince yourself that you’re actually punishing your mother by degrading yourself.

The only way to avoid circling the drain for the next eighteen months is by doing some drastic shit now. It’s time for you to check into rehab. No joke, twenty-eight days, in-patient rehab.

This isn’t so much about the blow. I know. You can quit for weeks. Whatever. This is about a cycle of self-medication that is annihilating you. You need more help than you’re currently getting.

You’ve already been diagnosed bipolar, and no doubt that’s just the tip of your iceberg of crazy. The shrink you’ve got can’t handle you, so it’s time for a new level of treatment.

Please, go big. Make a major change.

Best of luck.


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