by A Women in Sobriety | Aug 28, 2017 | Addiction Articles, Blog
A Moment of Clarity
One day it hit me that I did not want to do these pills anymore. I just wanted to be normal. These pills had taken control of my life for the last few years and I could not remember the last day that I had not had them in my hand. I thought that day sitting in my mom’s kitchen wanting to get high and not being able to was hell on earth, until I experienced the feeling of not wanting to get high and doing it anyways. That is hell.
I got my hands on some suboxone and methadone. I figured that would help me with the withdrawal I was about to experience. Kicking opiates is not a good time. I got my hands on some naltrexone. This wonder drug was supposed to help block the effect of opiates and help cravings. I had someone ship me these pills in the mail.
When they arrived in their white envelop I remember sitting in my bed at my little crappy college house and staring at it. I remember thinking that this was what would change me. This would make everything better. I think I kissed that pill before I ingested it. Incredibly dramatic, right?
Well, a few hours later that pill sent me into the worst detox in my entire life. I could not move except to vomit. I picture that pill ripping out every sliver of opiates in my body. It was awful. Thankfully my roommate was in college to be a nurse so she took very good care of me… by pouring me shots of vodka and handing me the bong to toke on some weed.
This was it. I was done with opiates. Sure, I would drink myself into a coma every night, take valium and Ativan to help with the anxiety and smoke weed every few hours, but no more opiates. I was on the path to being normal.
No More Opiates
I made it about 90 days without opiates. The longest period I ever went. My life changed in those 90 days. Not in a better way or a worse way just different. I attempted to go to 12 step meetings. I was not interested in being sober by any means just looking to stop the opiates. I would sit in the back of the room during the meetings and relate to the literature they read. At the end of the meeting they would always ask if anyone had a desire to drink or use today and if so please speak up. I would never raise my hand. After some of the meetings I would walk up when no one was looking and take a chip off the counter in celebration of milestones of not using opiates, then after the meeting I would figure out where I would be buying my Canadian whiskey bottle that night.
My drinking escalated heavily those 90 days. I would drink in the morning, during class and all night. I started to be sent home from work for being so intoxicated on the job. My life was turning into an even bigger mess trying to fill the void by consuming such large amounts of alcohol and anxiety medications.
One day I started a journal. I wrote how the thoughts of using OxyContin were returning in my head. I described the feelings of wanting to get high and what would happen if I gave in. Finding that notebook in sobriety it was interesting to look back at my insanity on paper and the way my mind worked. Nevertheless, my journal was right. Shortly after celebrating 90 days off opiates I decided to splurge on myself… with OxyContin!
The Vicious Cycle
The game was back in motion. After I started getting high all my old behaviors would come back. My roommates asked me if I was getting high again and I told them I was just really tired all the time. That by the way is the worst excuse in the world, but drug addicts think it is believable for some crazy reason. There is not an addict in the world who doesn’t use the “I am tired” excuse.
Trying to describe what life was like is extremely difficult. How do you put into words exactly what it is like to be a drug addict who tries to clean up their life and fails repeatedly? How do you describe what it is like to be a liar, cheater and a thief? Okay the best way I can describe how I felt was I would sit in my car, plug in my IPOD (for those of you who do not know what an IPOD is it’s a device that came out that was popular mid 2000’s that allowed you to put pirated music on it before Streaming music was a thing) listening to Pink’s song Sober on repeat. It was a song that described exactly the way I felt. “But how do I feel this good sober?” Yeah Pink. How do I? They really should have put some follow up information with that song but whatever.
I’m Sooooo Funny
Okay so I am smoking opiates again daily while drinking whiskey every single night till I fall asleep. One night after work my co-workers and my roommates decide to go bowling. I sneak in my own personal bottle of whiskey into the bowling alley because I am the only person under 21 there and can’t drink the drink specials. I am wasted. I have this amazing idea. The most hilarious idea since ideas are created. I wait until my 30 something year old boss goes to bowl an 8-pound pink ball down the dark lane with lights flashing as Mariah Carey tunes are playing over the loud speakers. I sneak up behind her and pull her pants down in front of everyone. In front of everyone.
Now in my head this was hilarious. What ended up happening was this woman wanted to kill me and forced me outside. I vaguely remember the team of people we were with splitting us up preventing a fight in front of the bowling alley in a handicap spot.
The party was over and everyone split up. Unfortunately, as the night went on so did my great ideas. When my roommates and I got back to the house we decided the only way to sober up was to eat some pasta from a box. I think she wanted the hamburger helper and I wanted the tuna helper kind, being the Jewish young lady that I was. The next thing that happened was a full-blown fight. I have no idea who threw the first blow. All I know is my shirt was ripped and my bedroom door was busted. Did we eat any pasta that night? I cannot recall. I would like to think we did.
I Need Help
What I do know is I broke down in my blackout and called my mother. I remember sitting in a fetal position in my ripped shirt on my bedroom floor calling my mother at some godforsaken hour sobbing that I needed help. All I know is this time my mother was not mad at me she just said, “ok let’s get you help.”
The next morning as I did the walk of shame if you will out of my room, I sat on the couch with my roommates. No one was mad. No one really talked about it. It was just another drunken night. I think we ordered Domino’s pizza my treat as we laughed it off.
A week or so later I found a private therapist in the town I was living in. I decided to go see one regarding my drug and alcohol use. I decided I would do whatever the therapist suggested either impatient or outpatient drug rehab.
In the morning of my appointment I woke up and took a shower. This is important because hygiene during this period of my life was not the best. I did my hair and makeup and out my game face on. Walking into my appointment at the therapist office my heart was pounding. I took a seat in the wood filled room. I just remember everything being made of wood and very bland. I filled out some paper work and waited to meet the male therapist.
After several minutes, he walked out to the waiting room to bring me into his office. I sat in a very comfortable oversized chair as he leaned back with his notebook and pen. I have no recollection of the questions he asked me all I know is I was there for around 45 minutes answering questions semi-honestly. I was as honest as I could have been at the time.
At the end of the session he stood up and walked over to a book shelf. He pulled out a business card and sat back down. “After our session, today I truly believe the best thing you can do for yourself is to go to impatient rehab. Here is a great place I recommend” and he handed me a tiny white card with brown and blue lettering on it.
Great. Rehab. I replied “thanks I appreciate your time today” as I took the card and put it in my purse and walked out the door back to my death trap of a vehicle. I sat in the car in the parking lot chain smoking cigarettes for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, I put the IPOD on selected my favorite Pink jam and rode home.
I Need Help But Did I Really Want It
At this point I already laid the cards out on the table. I told my mom I needed help and she would not let up. She wanted me to go to treatment. She knew things were bad, but till this day she never understood just how bad they were.
When I got back to the house I sat down with my roommates. We sat in our usual seats in the living room. Shaina on the couch with the dog, Ricky in the reclining chair and I on the other couch across from the coffee table. Without a word, I was handed a shot of whiskey and the bong. I sat there with them watching old Friend’s episodes in silence for a few hours getting higher and drunker as the episodes went on.
I had to be really messed up to have the courage to tell them what just happened. As the hours went on the obsession to get high kicked in. After a few text messages and phone calls my dealer would be on the way to the house to bring me Roxicodone. When he arrived, I met him outside to do the usual exchange and brief chatter. I walked in and went to my room. Out came the foil and a bic pen and the process began. I would light the pill and smoke the fumes holding it in until I was light headed. I would exhale the smoke and then take a hit of the marijuana bowl I had packed. I would do this repeatedly until I nodded out.
I had to go to rehab. I knew this. I almost welcomed the idea. I had two weeks left of my college semester and then I would go. That night I told my roommates about what happened that day and what my decision was. They totally supported my decision to get help to get off the opiates. Neither them nor I understood the gravity of the impact my decision would have on all our lives.
My parent’s wanted me to go to treatment right away, they frankly did not think I would be willing to go in a few weeks. My mom begged and pleaded with me to go but I declined. I told all my friends that I was going away for the summer to volunteer at a summer camp. It is almost funny looking back at that story. If you knew me, working at a summer camp is the last thing I would ever do. I could not be honest about what I was really doing I was too ashamed.
Getting Ready for Rehab
I called the rehab number off that little white card the therapist gave me and they told me I was accepted into the program and to come when I was ready. I finished out the semester getting decent grades. Till then it was party time.
The week before I left I had to go to my employer and tell them I was going to need to do FMLA the Family Medical Leave Act because I was going to treatment. Remember that boss that wanted to fight me for pulling her pants down in front of everyone?
Well when I told her what I was doing, she pulled me into aside and hugged me. She cried of joy. Such an awkward moment. Okay she did not pull me into her office she walked with me to the bathroom. So here I am a day before my 20th birthday hugging my boss in a bathroom at my job while she is crying of joy I am going to rehab. My life is jacked up.
As I made my rounds and said goodbye to my friends for the summer a strange feeling grew in the pit of my stomach. I knew things were going to change. I also knew that even though my intention was to come back that I might not be back. I packed up as much as I could fit into my little car knowing that I had no real idea the next time I would step foot in that house again.
I cried as I said bye to Shaina and Ricky. We had been living together for the last two years. They were my family. Not only did they teach me how to drink but they did teach me how to live. I grew up with them and we also grew apart due to my addiction. I loved them very much and I still do. I caused a lot of damage to both and I changed their lives forever which I will discuss later on. I got into my little car and started the journey to my parent’s house hundreds of miles away from the life I had created.
You know what the worst thing about when your loved one says they will go to treatment is? The period before they go. What a weird and uncomfortable period for everyone.
Ok I am the drug addict. I get high. I now know I won’t be getting high any longer after X day. So what am I going to do until then? Get High.
Now my parents. They know I am an addict. They know I am going to rehab. They also do not want me to get high, but if they say anything will they push me away from going to rehab still? Tough call for all parties right?
My Last Hurrah
I mean I got high. I spent hundreds of dollars the night I got to my parent’s house and I got high as I could. As I sat in my childhood bedroom smoking pills off tin foil I accidentally caught a tissue on fire and had to run down the hall to the bathroom to throw it in the sink. I burnt the shit out of my thumb. That is how high I got.
I went in to the fridge in the garage and drank a 12 pack of miller light in front of my parents. They were disgusted at my behavior and concerned, but they knew tomorrow was the day. I did not sleep at all that night. I just kept thinking about what I was doing and if this was the right decision. The next morning my mother got me out of bed and said, “it is time to go your bags are in the car.”
As my mom walked outside to sit in the passenger seat as my dad waited in the driver’s seat for me to come outside. Before I did I packed a bowl of the best weed I could find and sat on the porch and smoked a bowl. When I was finished I threw it in the garbage can outside and took a Suboxone under my tongue. I walked out of the house and into the back seat of the vehicle as I let the wafer dissolve in my mouth.
Cold Feet
The drive was short. 30 minutes or so. I was nervous. We got there and it was close to the beach, 300 steps to be exact! It was on a brochure in the waiting room. The staff greeted me as my mother stayed inside while I filled out some paper work as my dad unloaded the vehicle of my items. After a few minutes it was time for my parents to leave. FUCK THIS. I am not staying here I decided.
As my parents walked to their car I begged them to take me with them. They told me they loved me and because of that they could not do that. They got in the car and drove away. After taking maybe 50 steps after the vehicle I stopped and watched them drive away.
The staff of the treatment center came to retrieve me. They brought me back inside and allowed me to smoke a few cigarettes before continuing with the paper work.
Well, I guess I am staying in rehab.
by A Women in Sobriety | Aug 21, 2017 | Addiction Articles, Blog
I “Was” a good kid
Fast forward to court. I was a good kid with no criminal record. The judge told me if I did a few things I would not be facing jail time or a criminal record. If I did not do those things I would be charged with 2 felonies and 3 misdemeanor charges.
Sweet! What do I have to do? I had to do community service hours… like 100 of them. So, while most of my friends were finishing up the last few months of high school I was cleaning the local Walmart and drove around with a cop visiting local homes that had complaints from their neighbors about hoarding issues. Gross.
I had to write these apology letters to my parents and present them to the judge about how much I was sorry for my behaviors and that I was a changed person. Done. Manipulative stories were my specialty.
The last thing I had to do was stay sober. That was the kicker. Okay so up till this point I figured if I wanted to stop using opiates I could. I never really had a reason to. Sure my parents were mad at me all the time but that was not enough of a reason to stop. Now I was facing some pretty serious consequences if I kept smoking those little blue fuckers and I knew I did not have a choice.
I of course did not want to stop but I HAD to stop.
I’ll Put it in My Calendar
I started to play mad scientist. Basically, I knew that I was going to be drug tested on the 1st of every month and that I better have these bad boys out of my system by then.
Since I was smoking the pills instead of snorting or eating them they should stay in my system for around 48 hours. So that meant until about the 28th of the month I was good to go!
I kept doing the same thing.
My mom did not get it. She would see me at night and bow her head in shame. She would just keep saying to me, “with everything on the line, how could you? You have everything to lose including your college scholarship. How will you pay for college if you lose that? Kiss your future goodbye if you end up a convicted felon.”
None of that mattered. I knew I would stop on the 28th and I would pass. I just had to get through 90 days of this stuff and I would be free to live life again. Suddenly it was the 28th of the month. I could not stop. I had every reason in the world not hit the foil with a lighter and smoke those fumes sliding off the top, but I could not stop. I had to do it. Then came the 29th. Same story. I had to get high. I could not say no to the voices in my head. My body screamed for it. Then came the 30th. I really had to stop now. My test was tomorrow. I was going to fail. What do I do now? How can I get out of this?
Breaking Down
Got it! I picked up the phone and called my probation officer. I told him not one but all four of my tires were flat! I would need to push back the test till Monday when I could drive over to take it. No problem he said. Okay phew. Got him taken care of. But now I had to deal with mommy dearest.
How do I get out of trouble with her? I got it. I called Mom that Friday afternoon and confessed.
“Mom, I have a problem I cannot stop using drugs”. I was crying hard when I said this. I think I was on the floor while I was on the phone with her. I can picture being on the floor in the hallway that day is etched into my memory.
I meant those things I said. I was sorry, I could not stop and I was scared. She hung up on me.
See my family did not understand. My mom thought I had a choice and I was choosing to do these things, that I was choosing these poor behaviors. She could also see through by BS that I was only saying these things because I did not want to get in trouble not because I really wanted to stop using drugs.
When she got home it was awkward silence. The type of silence that the expression “you could hear a pin drop” was coined from. It was bad. She was so mad at me.
As I sat at the kitchen table with her I told her that I was done and that my drug test was pushed back to Monday. She told me I was very lucky and that I was crazy if I thought I was leaving the house for anything that weekend. WHAT?! I did not have a drug test till Monday that meant I could get high today… Friday. What do you mean I can’t leave the house? I tried every excuse in the world for her to allow me to run out of the house for just a few minutes. I needed to get high. I had to get high. She held firm.
When I tell you that I wanted to get high with every single fiber of my being that day I mean it. It was hell on earth. Wanting to get high but not being able to. I started to detox within several hours. My detox usually consisted of coughing all night. I had smoked so much foil that my cough was so bad it felt like I would break a rib. I could not sleep and the physical pain was unbearable.
Monday came I passed the test. Yay! Back to the routine get high until the 28th.
No Matter Where You Go… You Take Yourself With You.
Insanity. Pure insanity. I had gotten away with it once there was no way I could pull that off again. What do I do? It has been less than a month since I was “arrested” I had one month left of senior year of high school and if I stayed in my hometown there was 0.00% chance I would stay sober and avoid jail and a mug shot.
Idea. College! I had been accepted into my dream college. I of course in my drug induced haze had no real plan of attending, because why mess up a good thing?
But things were horrible at best. I am going to go to college and get out of this town. That is the answer. Goals. Dreams. Better people. They don’t do drugs in college! This is the answer.
I told my mom of my great plan. She sat me on the black leather couch in the living room while she paced back and forth. “No matter where you go… you take yourself with you. You cannot escape who you are.” Cool saying, I thought but so wrong! I got this. I will go to college and totally be fine. So less than a month later I packed up my little car and headed north for summer classes.
I had to get a counselor in college as part of my probation. I had to meet with her once a month while I finished out my 90-day probation. I passed the rest of my drug tests as I was unable to get my hands on any drugs during those first 2 months up there… but I did discover my new-found love of alcohol. Natural Ice? Hello broke college life!
Magical Pill Mills
Okay done. Probation was finished. Felony free. Time to party and now no mom checking my pupils with a flash light when I come home. It was go time. While I was living in student apartments and attending class, I would split my time between college and my hometown. See the pill mills were really big back then and it was so easy for me to get my hands-on scripts of my own. I would go to some doctor and complain about back pain. Give some sad story about how I just want to be normal and my pain and anxiety are destroying my life. Boom. I would get 180 Roxicodone’s and 90 valiums in under 20 minutes. Life was so good.
One time as we waited to fill our scripts at a pharmacy a cop came up to the vehicle. We were all high off opiates as we had just finished smoking some pills. We had a prescription in each of our names and he had to let us go. This was like the best thing ever.
Several weeks later when I went to make my next appointment I found out that doctor was killed in a car accident. Game over for us all.
It did not take long for me to make new friends in college and get my hands on those pills again. Sometimes I would smoke crack. Sometimes I would smoke heroin. Sometimes I would drink my weight in Canadian whiskey. Nothing completed me more than those A215 pills.
I was functioning okay in college I made good grades but always had to drop one class each semester. I was working in sales and making easily $1,000.00 a week which supplied my nice drug habit. I was living in a house with 2 of my friends and we partied every single night. There was not one sober day in my entire 2.5-year college career. I would drink and drive. I would wake up in places I did not know how I got there. I even once called the cops on myself for drinking and driving. True story. I was a wreck.
by Sally Rosa | Jul 19, 2017 | Addiction Articles, Blog, Sobriety For Women
It took me 9 years to graduate college. I attended 9 rehabs and 3 colleges. I have a bachelors degree in music business, I write TV commercials for a living, have been sober 3.5 years and I completed all 12 steps. My college graduation party was attended by myself, and a bar tender. The cocaine, alcohol and weed were funded by money I swindled out of an inheritance my grandfather left me when he died. I messed up the college experience, then fixed it, messed it up again, scooted to the finish line and I’m still around to reflect on every moment. So, Yeah, I am very qualified to give you 10 tips on how to succeed in college.
10. Don’t take your self too seriously
Guess what, if your not going to be a doctor or a lawyer or really good scientist or something, it doesn’t matter how good your grades are. It’s true! Don’t get so stressed out! It’s not a big deal. Do your best, but at the same time don’t become one of those kids who base their entire self worth upon a letter grade. During a job interview they do not ask what your GPA was, most don’t care, they care about whether or not you have a degree and if you can do the job. Period. So do not let your self get so damn stressed out that you turn to drugs or an eating disorder to calm the storm of your own heightened expectations. Chill out, it’s only college!
9. Use a condom
This is non-negotiable. Ok, you don’t have to “wear” one but you better make sure that Jimmy has a condom on his Jimmy. You will have plenty of time for unprotected sex in the future, but this is not that time. Try making it to class with baby Bjorn strapped around you neck. What is a baby Bjorn? I have no idea, but I know I don’t want one hanging from me while I’m getting ready for a tailgate party or when I’m pedaling my butt off trying to get to my chemistry mid-term.
8. Get a Hobby
You’re gonna need something to distract you from the boring stress of school. Here are the hobbies I chose, drinking, snorting ritalin, snorting cocaine, eating mushrooms, smoking pot, drinking mushroom tea, drinking some more, having sex and smoking pot. Chose something different. Join an intramural sport, act in a play, go running, hiking, start your own video game league! You’ll meet friends, you’ll have fun and you’ll be waaay more motivated to study hard. Endorphins that are release through laughter and exercise are far more constructive to concentration and work ethic than the false emotions and feeling associated with chemicals.
7. Get a part time job
The number one thing every college kid complains of is money. They have none. But you, part time job college kid have money from your 20 hours at black jack pizza making you…the campus millionaire. This alleviates stress, creates a sense of purpose, provides structure and is another area of learning. The student who works during school WILL BE miles ahead of all the others who are to lazy to fend for them selves.
6. Call your Mom and Dad once a week
Not once a day, or once a month, once a week. This will make them feel better. This will make them feel like there money is being well spent. Parents get nervous, mine did all 9 years. First of all it’s respectful, they raised you, gave you life. The least you could do is let them know you haven’t been shot. Also it will help ground you. It will help bring things back in to perspective. Also parents have been there before. You might think you get great advice from Bubba the pothead, but trust me parents know what they are talking about.
5. Don’t Dink and Drive
If you drive drunk you will get caught. You may kill someone. It is much harder to get good grades in cellblock B than it is to get good grades sharing a dorm room with a girl who doesn’t shower. Also that fancy degree will be much harder to pay off when you can’t get a job because you have a felony on your record. One more little unknown tip, you can get a ticket for Biking while intoxicated, yes mountain biking while drunk. You can also get one for riding a razor scooter and roller blading while smashed trust me I got my BUI, SUI and ROI in the same month.
4. Go to class everyday
97.45% of students who go to class everyday finish school in four years. Yes I made that up, but it’s true that if you commit to never missing a class it will be pretty damn hard to fail. Plus it will prepare you for the daily grind of a real job. Also, say you get in a jam and you need some extra time on a paper or you need a few extra points, the teacher who sees you everyday is the teacher who will help you out.
3. Do not do any drugs.
Don’t do it, don’t think about it. Don’t take Ritalin; ADD is a fake disease that smart phones cured back in 2005. Do not do coke, take pills, LSD..no… nothing. Drugs can turn the kid who has zero history of addiction in to a full-blown addict. Drugs change your body, your brain and your life. Listen I’ve tried ‘em all so I’m not some born again preacher talking about stuff I haven’t done. I did them and I can tell you that you should not. There is absolutely nothing to be gained form doing hard drugs. Not one moment, or one friend or one feeling is worth it.
2. Don’t move in with the person you’re banging.
If you follow tip number 9 this shouldn’t be a problem. Ok, you may love him but you can move in with him the day you graduate but not a minute before. This only causes problems. You’ll be unfocused; you’ll have no alone time and your chances of getting her pregnant drastically increase. Condoms can break and so can your resolve to use them all the time. You are not at college to get married. You are at college to get a degree, have fun and get out. I moved in with a guy, I hated him. You will too. This goes back to tip number 10. All I’m saying is spend this time educating your self on what type of person you want to be with. Get to know people. Talk to them, laugh with them, be yourself. Moving in with the person your banging takes you entire college experience and reduces it to a trivial, self-defeating bad soap opera.
1. Don’t drink period.
by A Women in Sobriety | Jul 3, 2017 | 12 Steps, Addiction Articles, Blog
Drug Addiction is Tragic
When my best friend died I was 16 years old. I wish I could say it was from some random act of God that came out of no where, maybe that would help me sleep better at night or something. I wish I could say that we all saw it coming and had plenty of time to prepare emotionally for what was about to come, all of the guilt and pain that would haunt me for years. That is not her story.
Her story is a different type of tragedy. Her story begins like most others. It begins with a normal childhood with two very loving parents who provided her the world and entry into private school for academic purposes. Growing up she was always well liked and had many friends. I met her one-day in 7th grade in the lunchroom after gym class where we both talked about how we wanted to marry Brad. He was a total babe and the cutest boy in our grade; we also talked about his girlfriend Jessica and how she was the worst person on earth (for no other reason than just dating Brad of course.) We were best friends from that day on and inseparable.
Drugs Arn’t Fun
Fast forward a few years we were entering high school. Now if you can relate, going into high school was one of the most exciting and scary things a young teenager can imagine. We came we saw we conquered. Within the first few weeks’ high school was like a real life version of the movie Mean Girls. We were sitting at the lunch tables with the older crowd and being invited out to parties on the weekend with the guys from the upper grades. These events were the first time in our lives we had to lie to our parents about where we were going. The good ole sleepover routine worked like a charm. These parties over time are where both her and I learned to drink and appreciate the effects of alcohol.
Sophomore year, at a party one of the seniors had some drugs on him. He said they were pills he got from a doctor due to hurting his knee from soccer practice a few weeks ago. He said if you snort them while drinking they are “a lot of fun.” That is a direct quote. I will never forget that. I felt uneasy about putting anything up my nose nevertheless some crushed up random pill this guy had on a table with a gross one-dollar bill. I respectfully declined the offer, thinking my best friend, the Carrie to my Samantha (She always wanted to be Carrie) would follow suite. However, she did not. She stayed. She picked up that disgusting one-dollar bill and put it up her nose and snorted that random pill, this guy claimed would be “fun.” I spent the next hour in the bathroom with her while she puked. No fun to me. Lesson learned at least.
However, as the weeks went on, my best friend began to hang out with that guy more. I began to notice a change in her I did not understand at the time. Within a few months she was a totally different person. She was not showing up for class and would constantly ignore me. At the time, I was hurt but assumed it was due to her being in a relationship. I did not know that my best friend was addicted to opiates.
Calling Out Your friend Isn’t Easy
On May 9th, I called her after school to confront her and we got into a huge fight. You know looking back, in all of the years of our friendship we never fought, even as two young girls growing up we just never had that type of relationship. Unfortunately the call ended with some curse words and me hanging up the phone on her. I have regretted that call every single day since. On the next evening, May 10th her parents called me to say they found her dead in her childhood bathroom. She had a needle in her arm. I was in shock. A needle? They demanded answers from me as if I was hiding information from them, and called my parents.
I did not know my best friend was a heroin addict. I had no idea at that age that snorting some random pill could lead to full blown addiction, nevertheless heroin addiction in such a short amount of time. I had no clue teenagers even got hooked on heroin, at least not where I live. I was wrong.
Looking back I wish I would have handled so many things differently: the party, when my friend starting acting different, that phone call. I have immense guilt, shame and pain over this that has been difficult to let go of even after all of these years. I hope that people understand that addiction does not care who you are, where you are, what you know or how many people love you.
It can take someone over in the blink of an eye. Speak up and do not be silent as I was.
by A Women in Sobriety | Jun 28, 2017 | Addiction Articles, Addiction Treatment, Blog
South Florida Drug Rehab saved my life.
This is not fake news. I was 20 years old and in the grip of a deadly opiate and alcohol addiction. I had tried to get sober in my hometown while still in college, attending an intensive outpatient program to try to stay sober and please the people around me. The problem? It did not work.
I would go to school and see all the students on campus drinking beer and guess what I would do? Drink with them. I would go to work and the strangest thing would happen there too. My co-worker would sell me pills. Shucks! Not today sobriety!
At the age of 20, I could not muster up the internal motivational and self-will to stay sober through one single day of school without drinking alcohol on campus, or one single day without buying opiates and using drugs at work. I was in a tough pickle.
People, Places, and Things
How does someone stay sober in his or her hometown without going to another location for rehab? I had attempted to do an intensive outpatient program, but since I had no accountability, I stopped after the first few sessions, plus I could never pass those stupid drug tests, which always made the drug addiction seem so real and undeniable. I was stuck in a vicious cycle. Every night I would go to bed and promise I would stop using tomorrow. Tomorrow would come and I would not be able to stop using, because I did not feel good and I could not overcome my mental obsession once I hit the school campus or my work parking lot.
In my hometown, I was surrounded by people who enabled me. I wanted every single day more than anything to just stop using drugs and alcohol.
One day I decided to call and make an appointment to see my private therapist and admit I was ready to get back into intensive outpatient programming. After a 30-minute session, he looked at me and stared for what seemed like forever. “Take this card” he said to me, as he leaned forward in his old leather chair.
I was told that day if I wanted a real shot at saving my life, I had to take some time to accomplish that for myself, which for me meant leaving the place I was creating the destruction. The card he handed me was for a Drug Rehab in South Florida and had a phone number on it. I left his office and sat in my car alone crying and smoking a cigarette before having the courage to pick up the phone and dial the number.
A Leap of Faith
A gentleman answered and spoke to me for a while. I told him what was going on in my life and that it was suggested to me that my best chance of success was to go to this program. He told me everything would be okay and we formed a plan together on how leaving school, my home, my life, my entire world would work for the next month and just encouraged me to not forget how long it took me to get to this moment on this call.
He was right. I was 20 years old. I was heavily addicted to prescription pills, heroin and alcohol for the last several years and this was my first real attempt at seeking help.
A few days later my parents dropped me off at the Drug Rehab in South Florida, and yes stereotypes are true it was near the beach. When my parents went to leave I told them I changed my mind and went to follow them to the car, which they sped out of the parking lot. I was now officially stuck in South Florida seeking Treatment for my drug and alcohol addiction. First week was a fog I was detoxing pretty hard.
The next few weeks in treatment I did some great work and learned a lot. There was a huge problem though. I was going to go right back to my house in college with my roommates who drink and party every night, to the same job, the same college campus, the same life. I worked so hard the last few weeks to get away from that in South Florida and now I was scared too go backwards.
Changing My Life Forever
I made an executive decision that changed my life forever. I decided to stay and go to a sober home in South Florida that the treatment center recommended. They charged me rent and no, my insurance did not make it free. I got out of drug rehab and started going to 12 step meetings and realized that young people actually got sober, something I did not know happened.
I was 20 years old in rehab for opiate addiction and the closest woman my age was 35. My first day out of treatment I went to an AA meeting at night that had over 75 young people in it.
I learned how to have sober fun. I learned how to be responsible. I learned how to be a productive member of society and how to show up for my family.
I made a lot of friends in recovery over the years as a result of South Florida and the recovery community. I also have had to bury more people than I can even remember. 8 years later I am still sober, and have only been to drug rehab once.
Grateful for South Florida Recovery
I am 28 years old today and sometimes I log into Facebook and I have to pause in remembrance at all of the people I once knew who have died as a result of drug and alcohol addiction who did not get it.
The South Florida Recovery Community saved my life in a profound way and hundreds of close friends of mine. Yes, I have hundreds of friends in recovery I have met over the years in the area who have done amazing things.
Some people move back home after they complete drug rehab and some after a few months. Not every story is just like mine and unfortunately not all stories have happy endings. However, addiction is a treatable disease. The family has the ability to intervene. The addict has the ability to not go to a facility they know does not have their best interest in mind.
I will always be grateful for what I learned growing up in Delray Beach, Florida and the impact the community had on my life. I wish other providers; parents, media, and communities understood these types of untold stories, which do not make for juicy headlines.
Success from addiction is possible and that South Florida saved my life.
