Three days ago I was released from the county jail on house arrest. My reason for being incarcerated this time was due to my heroin addiction. So was the last time. And the time before that. And the time before that. In fact, every time I’ve ever been placed under arrest was because of something drug related. I’m home at my parents’ house now with this huge ankle bracelet on waiting for my insurance to get turned on so that I can then be transferred to a dual diagnostic treatment facility.
Ten days ago a very close friend of mine was also released from the jail. Before she left, she and I were in the bathroom on our pod saying our good-byes, both of us in tears and hugging each other tight. I wish I would have held her a little bit tighter because 3 days after she was sent home she was found dead due to a heroin overdose. Looking back on our last moment together, through her tears she kept repeatedly saying that she was sorry, she was so sorry. I didn’t understand why she was apologizing. Not until the moment that I heard about her passing did I realize what she was trying to tell me. When I learned of her death, my first reaction was to use. How crazy is that? She dies of a heroin overdose and I immediately get a severe urge to go out and do the exact same thing that just took her life. Why? Because that is how I have been dealing with emotions since I was 17 years old. I’m 28 now. Every single time I start experiencing an uncomfortable emotion, my addiction starts talking to me. And if I don’t listen, it starts screaming.
Heroin is evil. It has taken everything from me. I’ve lost my kids, my husband, and my home. I was convicted of 2 felonies and sent to a women’s prison in Ohio so it’s hard for me to get a job. I started school last year to get an associate’s degree in Cosmetology and dropped out 3 weeks later because I was going into class dope sick and would have to leave to go get heroin just so I could feel normal. I’ve lost all my personal belongings because I was bouncing around from trap house to trap house and people would steal my stuff. I’ve walked the streets prostituting myself to strange men. I’ve been held at gun point. I’ve been held, hostage. I’ve been jumped by women and beat by men. So why have I continuously put such a horrible substance into my body? To this day I have a lot of answers, and then none at all.
The things that I have put my family through have destroyed my relationships with them. My parents don’t trust me, and I don’t blame them. My poor mother was at one point in time planning my funeral. I’ve disappeared on them for weeks on end until they eventually went to the police and filed a missing person’s report and the police found me in another state walking the streets. I can’t even begin to imagine how I’ve made them feel. And then there is my sister, who I love more than anything. She was my BEST FRIEND and now I feel like she’s only my sister because she has to be. I also have an older brother who I am extremely protective of. But really the person he needed to be protected from was me, and I say that because I’ve influenced him to use drugs on numerous occasions. Thank God he was strong enough to put it down as quickly as he picked it up. But the one that really makes me feel the worst is my children. The only glimpse they’ve gotten of their mother in the last 2 years was from a photograph.
Things aren’t the same as they used to be. It’s going to take an extreme amount of hard work and dedication to my recovery for things to ever even be close to what they were between them and I. But the good news is that I’m finally willing to do the work. I know it’s not going to be easy. It’s going to be extremely hard. I’m not going to say that there won’t be times where I’m going to want to give up. But I refuse to let my addiction win. I’m not going to let this beat me. So when I go into this treatment facility, for the first time ever I’m going in with an open mind and belief that I’m really going to be successful in my recovery. I want to be happy again. I want to enjoy life. I want to make happy memories. I want to be a mother to my babies. There’s so much that I want to do, and there’s no way I’ll be able to do those things with my chin to my chest or from a coffin. There are 2 types of people in this world: people who are living and people who are dying. I want to live.