My life story

Ok, so here goes nothing...
I was born in London, then moved to Brighton, where I had a pretty unhappy childhood: chronic tonsilitis and bullied in school, Boohoo poor me. Then I moved school at 15 and discovered party drugs. Yipee! It was great fun... And then, I left school and dropped out of college, got a job as a cleaner. I went partying one night and over did it on the enlivening drugs so I thought a bit of speed would get me through work, and it did from then on until I ended up so screwed up I ran away from work and never came back. So I started a new job. I just ate proplus and drank in my lunch break so I was alright. I started hanging around squats in my time off snorting ketamine and taking acid, and it was cool. Honest, it was. And then I lost my temper at work and stormed out as I'd done an all nighter so couldn't be reasonable. 
I ended up just hanging about the squat. Some drugs went missing off my boyfriend, and then I got caught nicking some and so was blamed for it all, well, who wouldn't blame me? So I felt sorry for myself and went on a cocaine binge. I ended up on my Mum's sofa for a week the illest I have ever been and that includes clucking off opiates. So, I was back to square one and ended up in a b'n'b for homeless people. I got two jobs. I relied on proplus and alcohol to get me through, and used other drugs most nights partying. As the partying escalated I got slacker and slacker at work, and after another all nighter I walked out of another job. It had become my pattern. 
I decided I'd had enough, went on a massive binge and ended up moving to Bristol. I started at college and stayed with an Aunt. And then I met my new fella and he and a new friend introduced me to crack cocaine and heroin. I had found the answer to all my problems. I moved into a hostel, then a flat, and even him having cancer didn't stop us battering it. In the September I went back to college and tried to get off drugs. I started drinking instead and started getting into physical fights with my boyfriend and getting arrested a lot. I broke up with the boyfriend and went on a binge. A few weeks later we got back together. My drinking stayed bad, so bad that I caused havoc and ended up running away back home to Brighton to get away with it. So, I arrived back and went mad on everything. The prison sentences began. So did the detox and rehab stuff. So did the 12-step fellowship stuff. I decided heroin was the problem, then alcohol, then valium, and then finally and most recently crack cocaine. 
During this time I made a lot of bad decisions and ended up in a few disasterous relationships with men who were for the most part much too old for me and who would a) beat me up, b) beat you up or c) both. I became nearly as addicted to attention from the opposite sex and got a reputation for being a slut. 
And then I went into treatment and learnt a lot but inevitably fucked up when I wasn't even 2 months clean and sober. So now I'm throwing myself in to this 12-step stuff and trying to get a job and all that. It's a daily battle and I am nowhere near over it. But just for today I don't have to use or drink. That's the only freedom I can hope for right now.
Somehow I've managed to maintain a couple of decent friendships and relatively good relationships with my family, I'm close to my Mum especially, despite my behaviour and I am eternally grateful that they've stuck by me even though I often don't show it. 
Thankyou.