I've always found it kind of ironic how the people who are always arguing about whether or not addiction is a choice or a disease are the same people who have never once come in contact with addiction. That goes for either themselves, a family member, or even a friend. Almost all of them have no clue what it's like; what it feels like, what it looks like, or what it acts like.

The even more ironic part? They feel no inclination to ask someone who actually does know the truth of the topic. A bystander, someone who has lived the life of addiction without even touching a drop of alcohol or a needle. People like me.

Like most people who have some sort of addictive trail in their life, I was born into the curse of addiction. Right from birth, it was a part of me. Both sides of my genetics, all of them battling the same problem. And just like other people in my shoes, addiction has permanently seared itself into my brain, into my genetics, into my life path.

Nobody ever talks about people like me. The addicts who aren't addicts... yet.

So, for the sake of reducing some ignorance in the world, let's talk about it.

Without going into too much detail, I will admit that there are more addicts in my family than there are non-addicts. Some of them are in recovery, some of them continue to this day to use and abuse substances. I have to admit, there have been countless times where I've kept this information to myself. Maybe out of respect for those people, maybe out of respect for myself. Or maybe because it can be embarrassing or just sensitive. As I tell you that, all I can think about is how I need to watch my words. How I need to be careful about what I say as a way to protect my loved ones who have battled addiction.

See, that's another thing we don't talk about. We don't talk about the walking around on eggshells.

So, again, for the sake of reducing some ignorance, I'll forego the delicate attitude. Instead of sugar-coating, I'll be honest in this discussion. Not to shame the people I love, but to tell the whole truth.

It's embarrassing.

That's a big word; embarrassing. Not just a big word, but a hurtful word as well. Except, it's also as truthful as can be. It is so embarrassing. I know just how insensitive that sounds, trust me. I also know that some of the people who have a reflection on me didn't care enough not to be insensitive. How they chose to be embarrassing. I guess that makes both of us hurt — which gives me the right to be bluntly honest about everything.

You see, there is so much more to being a person born into addiction than just the genetic side of it. There is the public side as well.

There is so much more to this that you probably don't see. It's okay, I'll walk you through some of it.

Growing up, do you remember those anti-drug assemblies we had in school? Maybe around fifth or sixth grade. I remember those days. Maybe I remember them because sometimes, I was the only one listening. When those random strangers came to your school to talk to you about the harm that alcohol and drugs can do to you, how much of it did you actually listen to? Did you tell yourself something like 'that happens to other people, but it won't happen to me."? Did those thoughts cross your mind?

Well, some of the other people in the room with you didn't have the luxury to reassure themselves that way.

I remember not only listening but also paying close attention with almost a sense of amazement because I knew exactly what they were talking about. I knew when they talked about those dangers that they weren't lying. I knew that because I had seen it. I had lived it. I went home to it.

As I grew older, their words stuck with me. The discussions of peer pressure and how it was important to have willpower in those situations. I remember because I knew that some of us in that crowd would need to fight peer pressure 10x harder than others. We had a hereditary disposition to not only be stepping into those peer-pressure situations, but to fall for them too.

When we are children, we see the world in the ways we can understand it. We see the beer bottles lying around and how Dad is slumped over in the chair and isn't responding. But as children, we don't know what to make of it. At least, not until we grow up. It's just there; it exists and that is all we know.

Then the teenage years hit. This is when it really gets tricky.

This is when most of us who are born into addiction meet the crossroads and decide which path to take. It may seem easy, but I can tell you that it is the hardest decision to ever make.

We start to see parties, teens sneaking liquor from their parents' kitchens while they're home alone. We see them testing drugs and playing around with life-threatening situations. We see it, and then we're left to make a decision. Do we try it? Do we take a sip or pop a pill? Do we tell ourselves that we'll only try it once and that it'll be fun?

This is where the battle begins. The voices in our heads, our consciences begin to speak. Sometimes they tell us to walk away, to just turn around and drag yourself away from it. Sometimes, the addiction we're born with already speaks for our consciences instead and it tells us to just try it. What's the harm, right? It's not like we're already our mothers or our fathers. It's not like we've already battled this before.

See, that's when the repercussions of addictive tendencies begin to seep in. We may not even know it. We may live our lives without even an inkling that the addiction has already taken over the voice in our head. That's what addiction really is; the change of how that voice speaks to us and how it switches so easily from the angel to the devil.

Then, we are divided. Those of us who were born with this disease lying dormant, this is where we split. Half of us take one road, half of us take the other. Half of us decide to toss a drink back and the other half force ourselves to walk away. To see the fun the others are having and still force ourselves to close our eyes and turn away.

What most people don't understand is that we aren't just walking away. We're trying to change the course of the future. That's where the difficulty truly does lie. To end the parental legacy, the cut just a little bit of the addiction out of the bloodline. We're born with less willpower and yet we have to make the choice to grow some more on our own.

At the same time that we decide to make that change, that's when we look around and truly see how addiction has run its course through our family. We begin to hear the stories, each of how our loved one fell down. Some of how they got back up. We see the numbers rack up, one loved one, two loved ones, five loved ones, and so on. All of them having fought or still fighting some sort of battle against addiction.

We also see the ones who never really gave a sh*t. The ones who were supposed to love us unconditionally; raise us to be who we needed to be. We see how they continue to drown themselves in drugs and alcohol; not an ounce of their love for us able to help them win the war. That's when we're forced to see the truth of just how dirty addiction can be. How a father can continuously choose the bottle of beer or the bottle of narcotics over their kid's piano recital or help with homework. We're forced to see just how tied down they are, and how they choose not to get better; not even for the people they are supposed to love.

People like me, we get the brunt of someone else's problems. Because of their choices, we must alter ours. Because of their choices, we have to be the ones to make sacrifices. Because of their choices, we are tied down with them.

As soon as people like me are old enough, we have to decide the rest of our lives with every move we make. We aren't allowed to live carelessly. We aren't allowed to try certain things. Hell, we're barely allowed to go out and have a drink with a friend. All because of fear and all because of someone else's choices.

That's another thing they don't tell you about. People like me? We must live our lives as if we are already addicts. We must go day to day living behind the idea that we've already overcome addiction. That is how people like me have to prevent it; by pretending it's already over. We live like we're counting our days sober, even when we haven't ever been not sober. We live our lives avoiding situations that we wouldn't avoid if we weren't addicts. We see our friends living it up, and sure that cocktail does look mighty tasty but we can't even go near it because God only knows what might happen.

Even though we aren't addicts, we are.

We were born with the inability to take chances or risks. To let loose. We quarantine ourselves away from parts of life that could be harmless to others but incredibly harmful to ourselves.

No matter what we do, we have to keep the message in our head that we need to be different. That we have to end the streak of problems. That it's our time to be something better; to rise higher.

Except, there is always one question that sticks with us through all of it. Why did someone else's choice/disease have to dictate my life?