To The Twins & Mom...Heck, and anyone else in this situation. As the hustle & bustle of this time of year hits everyone across the country, my day could not end without me sitting down to share something that I hope will help this situation.
Please bare w/me as I expose some of the pass I have tried NOT to lose...it keep me balanced. I am a 42 year old woman who has walked the walk you two are on in many levels. Crack was never my 'cup of tea', I hated being 'up' - my drug of choice was heroin. I loved the "ahhh" effects that I got while doing it. I hate the "nasty" feeling it gives when coming off or when the drug has worn off. Horse is no monkey on the back, it's a gorilla that takes over the soul so I want you to know, above all else, I understand what you both are going thru and what you are saying.
I had dabbled in many different drugs for many different reasons throughout my teen years but never anything to a dangerous level....it was self destructive to me in many ways but I was still very functioning. I was a recreational drug user who maintained my life, had a full time job, was raising a wonderful daughter but partied on the weekends with alcohol, pot and every now & then - some cocaine. Crack & crystal meth and that sort of stuff never was my thing....I was hyper enough as it was, I need the more relaxing stuff if I was going to try anything at all. About age 22, I started selling cocaine to make some extra money. My daughter & I was barely making ends meet and I met a man who told me that he'd pay me a lot of money to transport dope and to help move it. Unfortunately, I agreed. I moved it in & out of my life with my daughter in my home. Am I proud of this? Absolutely not but I want you to know where things were at....but wait, I was just getting started to my lowest levels of low. Anyone who has ever dealt with cocaine users of any sorts realize what low-life type people you are dealing with. They will lie, cheat, steal, 'jones', making promises they can't keep and do just about anything they can to find just one more 'hit'. One more rock, etc. I've had people on their knees in my house looking for something that may have fallen on the floor...it's a serious sickness that I never got into other than snorting a line or two every now & then....well, that was until a big amount of coke came in and I went on a 3-day binge. The man I was dating saw that I was starting to use in a way that I haven't before and suggested that I get some sleep....there was no way that I was going to sleep and that's when he introduced me to a new drug....Mr. H....the horse...heroin. It brought me down allright....I snorted a line of heroin and immediately had one of those projectile pukes that comes from the first time trying. What followed though was a euphoric like I had never felt before AND some sleep.
I never believed in needles and was repulsed by them, I had an ex-husband who had bailed on my then 6-month old daughter & I and it was due to him shooting crystal meth...I hated needles & anything to do with them.....until I met Mr. Brownstone. The day after I woke up from the coke binge, I knew I'd never go back....the 'up' sucked for me...I hated it...but this new drug...well, that was a different story. The man I was dating told me to be very careful...it was "addictive".
In school, when taking drug classes, I always heard pot was addictive, cigarettes were addictive, other things were addictive (including cocaine) but I knew that I had always been strong enough to do it every now & then and then leave it behind. I really didn't believe what he was saying nor was I educated how heroin/opiates get into your mind, body, spirit, emotions....your soul as a whole. I realized it 4-days into snorting it though and there was no looking back.
While my beautiful daughter watched, I slowly turned into something I hate to even admit...BUT, if this helps you in any way, shape or form...I'm willing to do this because I KNOW you both can do it. I know you can. Just stick with me & bare with my fast typing and tapping of these keys. I think the left over residue of the coke were left in my fingers cause I'm a 101 wpm typist and it's always pretty accurate...so just hang with me here. K? I'm on a 'open your soul' role but I feel it's for a reason.
As you know, shortly after the initial vomit & whatnot, the ingestion of opates cause no more sickness in that degree...well, unless you do way too much. The nodding and numb feeling is all you are looking for. Each time, each amount of dose becomes just a little bit more because it always takes just a little bit more. I was still working full time at this point.....people would have never known I was a functioning addict in the beginning. I maintained my home, my car, my finances although it was all starting to take a turn for the worst. The more I became dependent on the drug, the worse it got.
Slowly but surely I lost everything materialistic. My wonderful parents had purchased me a beautiful sapphire waterfall (very popular back then) ring for my 21st birthday...they did that for all of their girls. Mine went by the wayside the moment I started jonesing. I am of Hispanic decent and I have a very large family who loved to party for any reason at all. By the time I was in full blown addiction mode, I would go to their houses to 'visit' while scoping out what was valuable enough to steal and what had the capability of being pawned. I had a hard time stealing from stores in fear of being caught but I sure as hell stole from my friends, family and loved ones. Credit cards were taken, used to buy large television sets or stereo systems and then straight to the pawn shop to let go for dirt cheap so I could buy more dope.
Eventually, (2-years into it), I lost my job. My life had hit close to rock bottom. I had sold everything in my house INCLUDING my 5-year old daughters Nintendo and other electronics that were worth money. I never sold my body for drugs but it's only because I was afraid to expose myself naked, I've always been heavy and it was more important for someone NOT to see me than to sell my body for the drugs....I had other schemes up my sleeve. Now if someone would have paid me $50.00 per pound....I would have been all over it....no doubt about it. But come on??? Who's going to pay high dollar for a Roseanne Barr type body (sorry, Roseanne).
I cheated, lied, stole, hurt the people that I loved the most, made 'swears' to God each and every day. I would ask Him to PLEASE just get me thru the sickness and if he allowed me to sleep on any given night, that I promised...I SWORE...I'd never use again. Most nights that I prayed like that, I'd sleep. The next day, my word was worth nothing and I was off to Houston again (from Galveston Island some 45-minutes away) to get that fix to get the sick off.
Three years into it I shot my first shot....the high off the injection was WAY too "good" to ever go back to snorting...I became a full fledged junkie and yes, while I still had my child to "take care" of. My parents were my life saver...they knew something was going on & helped to care for her lots - they were never condescending to me and they always was there for me to lean on. They did not enable me in ways for my drug habits to continue but they did help me with the rearing of this innocent child who did not deserve it....but I couldn't see that at that time and I sure as hell couldn't feel it. The drug, as you know, makes you numb. Hell, I didn't cry a tear for 8 years !!
Four years into it, I lost everything. My daughter & I still had an apartment but it had nothing in it. I sold tables, chairs, televisions, mattresses, dishes, you name it - I sold it....some people got some DAMN good deal. My parents always gifted us with high priced gifts and they never knew how low life had truly became until my best friend flew in from a naval base in Virginia.
She arrived at my door 5 years into my disease unannounced and uninvited and VERY unwanted and stood there in her navy uniform in disgust. She looked around my empty apartment and stated, "either you go to your parents and ask for help, or I am - I will be damned if I am going to get a phone call announcing your death and the loss of Tara <my child> while I am stationed in Virginia".
I was PISSED !! Pissed, pissed. How dare she? Walk into my life and act as her caca didn't stink. How dare she? She stayed with me all that afternoon and talked until my head was about to bust. I think I knew my life was spinning out of control but I needed help and I guess that was God's way of sending MY angel.
Tara, myself and Michele (friend from the Navy) went to my parents house that night. We arrived at the door, me already starting to feel the sickness, and we sat down for my confession. I needed some help. They knew though but said they also knew I had to want the help before getting it. SO.....by the time our talk finished, I was 12-hours into withdrawls. It sucked. I was pissed, I was hurting, I was aching, I was chilled, sweating and feeling like I could end my life at any moment if I only had a gun or something to take myself out with.
For the next 15-hours, my poor daughter...my best friend and my dear old parents watched me as I went thru the first part of withdrawls. The puking, the whole shebang....I can't imagine what any of them thought. We had a plan to go to a clinic to ask for some assistance in the morning - there were some great clinics in the Houston area and I was going to try and see my way thru it.
As Michelle drove me to the clinic to meet with the doctor in Houston, I passed by where I made the most of my purchases....it was the hardest thing in the world NOT to stop but it wasn't my choice...Michelle was driving...God bless her. I was a rude ass bitch to her but I didn't care....I was NOT okay with life right then and flat out pissed off that "they" were making me do this. I quickly forgot that less than 24-hours before this time, I was agreeing and understanding I needed some help.
We got to the clinic and a long ass road started. I could go into every last detail of the road back but it's probably not worth it.
The story continues like this. I am 15+ years clean at this point. My lowest points in my life keep me quite humble. I moved 2300 miles away from my home in Texas because I couldn't pull myself completely out of the hole while living there. The people I was connected to while using didn't want to see me get better. They accused me of trying to be "too good" for them. They knew I was a free ride who at least had shelter and knew how to do some things to get money so they bad-mouthed me.
At present time, I have a beautiful family...I married a wonderful man who believes in me and has never judged me in the least. My daughter is now 24 years old is now in pursue of a job in law enforcement. She has 1-credit to earn to get her degree in criminal justice and will then go on. She is a single mother trying to raise a son but my husband and I are helping her as a little villlage...I mean, what a success story this could make for not only heroin addicts like me but the victims of the addicts themselves.
My annual income combined with my husband is more than I could have ever imagined. I live on a 10 acre ranch called "El Rancho De Los Angeles" in beautiful Bend, Oregon where country living is cleaner than clean. At present time, I am overlooking 8 majestic snow capped mountains (the Cascade Mountain Range) from my living room window.
I have peace. I have chosen to NEVER look back with the shoulda-woulda-coulda syndrome. The past is just the past...the future is what YOU choose to make of it. BEAT THE ODDS, ladies ! It is possible...I'm living proof.
I have more love in my life than I could ever imagine. I am a trustworthy person. I pride myself in living a life that others can learn from and that my children and family can be proud of. I am thankful that my parents (hitting their 55th year of marriage) lived long enough to see me pull my head out of my ass.
I'm not trying to say the road is an easy one, it is not. 15+ years later, I'm STILL fighting the cravings at time. Watching your show today (I had it recorded) certainly left me shaking a few times...that 'rush' never truly goes away...but I will tell you this. This life that I have created for myself and given as a gift to my daughter because God knows, she didn't deserve it...it SUCH a better 'high' than the DOPE ever gave me. TAKE BACK YOUR LIFE. The drugs are NOT bigger than you....I swear it.
If I can do it, YOU can do it. I wish I was there to just share each moment of recovery with you but I'm not...and it's why I'm emptying a load of my soul here online...I didn't know how else to reach you but you all need to know, NOTHING is too bad to be undone.
I live with Hepatitis C from dirty needles but you know what ??? I thank God for even that, it could have been AIDS. There is ALWAYS positives that can be found if you look hard enough. Know that others have walked in your shoes AND beat the gorilla !! YOU CAN DO THIS.
I BELIEVE IN YOU !!
Bright Brilliant Blessinga and know that MANY people are pulling for you. Go girls, Go. And for mom....you too need to remember...no shoulda-woulda-coulda thoughts will ever move you into the positive...make new choices.
WAIT...one more story that is going out with our family Christmas card that I think you could get uplifted from. Ready ??? May you "feed" the right wolf !! God's blessings to you all !!
A Cherokee elder was teaching his grandchildren about the meaning of life.
He said to them, “There is a fight going on inside me. It is a terrible fight, and it is between two wolves. One wolf is evil. He is fear, anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, competition, superiority and ego.
The other wolf is good. He is joy, peace, love, hope, sharing, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, friendship, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion,
and faith.
This same fight is going on inside all of you. In fact, it is going on inside everyone on earth.”
The children thought about this for a very long time, and then one child asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?”
The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”