You know I’ve heard a lot of negative things about addicts all my life - it’s a major issue in my extended family, full of deadshit junkies, loser alcoholics, and the broken families that go with it.
With the number of family members dying in addiction rising I had subconsciously come to the conclusion that there is no coming back from addiction.
Even a close family member who stopped using heroin and seemed to be doing great, he relapsed on methadone and ended up dead at a drug house for a day before anyone called an ambulance. Face down with blood pooled on his face to give him the appearance of someone who had drowned. No amount of makeup that the coroners used could make him look normal at the open casket. His parents lost their hearts that day, his partner and daughter lost in their despair and grief while his baby son played with a toy truck telling people “don’t cry, be happy”, the image of his dad, too young to comprehend that he would never see him again. And one day when he is older he will learn why. And in the midst of her grief his daughter is dealing with other kids her age calling her dad a disgusting junkie, disregarding her pain because of how he died. So now she doesn’t talk about him.
All the while I was a secret addict and alcoholic.
His death was my turning point. I started to get really terrified of the control my own secret addictions had over me and knew I would be next to die, that my family would go through all this again, but I couldn’t stop.
Until I overdosed one night. I almost didn’t wake up. But I did. I was given a chance at life and I still had enough sense to know I wouldn’t get this chance again.
Rehab saved my life. I am 5 months clean and sober today. I am learning how to live. I will be an addict forever and I have the isms and mental illness that go with it. But I can be a whole person. I’m learning. And even my worst days sober are better than my best days high.