One Year

People who know me know that I battled with drugs a few years ago.  I'm not shy about talking about it either.  Back around 2006, I would be in a lot of pain during a certain time of the month.  I would be in so much pain that I could barely get out of bed.  I began to buy Percocets during that one time.  In April of 2007, I started hanging out with some co-workers.  I began to buy the pills more often.  Eventually, one of my co-workers introduced me to OxyContin, or oxies.  I began with them slowly.  One 80 milligram tablet would last me about 4 or 5 days.  As time went on, I was doing them more and more.  Within a few months, I started seeing one of those co-workers.  He lost his job and got locked up.  After he got out of jail three weeks later, we just went on an almost year-long binge (he never got his job back so I bought them for BOTH of us).  My paychecks would vary from $600-1000 every two weeks.  About 9/10 of that money went toward the opiates.  I lost about 50 pounds in not even two months after I began taking them.

In July 2008, my niece got baptized.  After her Christening, where I was her Godmother, my brother started a huge fight with me and in front of family, during her party.  I left the house and went back to my chill spot on the Delaware River.  I sat and thought for a little while and decided to ask a friend if I could move in with her. She lives almost 1000 miles away.  I bought my one-way plane ticket to Florida with my next paycheck.  The ticket was for September 17.

The night before I left, I ran all over my neighborhood like crazy trying to find some pills.  I met up with the co-worker that I had been seeing.  It was my first time seeing him in three weeks.  We were together that night and he came home with me to drop me off (at 6AM; I had a 9AM flight and hadn't even begun to pack).  He came back with me only because I told him that I had gotten a pill but left it at my house.

Three weeks after I got to my new home in bright, sunshiney Florida, I discovered I was pregnant.  After fighting with myself about keeping the baby or not (fighting the decision for about a month), I decided to keep it.  I was set on not keeping the baby.  I had about $700 of the operation cost, which was just under $1000.  Finally, I decided I couldn't bring myself to do it.  I'm pro-choice, I believe that a woman has every right to do what she wants with her body, to a certain degree.  I don't believe in abortion as a form of birth control or past the first trimester.  I'm not turning this into a pro-choice / pro-life thing so I'm gonna stop right there.

Anyway, lo and behold, 9 months later (well, really 8 - my daughter was a week early), I gave birth.  It was the best choice I ever made in my life.  However, for a bit, I couldn't stay away from the painkillers.  I got a prescription for the percs.  They lasted me a week (but I had an emergency C-section and had 14 staples in me).  When my daughter was about two months old, I started with the oxies again.  I began to get a little bad again, but not as bad as I was.  By January 2010, I had stopped taking them.  I didn't touch them until my 25th birthday in April.  After that, I did them the whole summer up until the weekend of August 20.

I haven't touch an opiate since then.  No, I'm lying.  In October, I got very, very sick.  I could barely walk and my entire body swelled up.  It would take me a half an hour to get out of bed.  I had a prescription for the percs.  But it has been just over a year since I have illegally taken an opiate.  I'm very proud of myself.  My daughter just turned 2 in May and she is the most beautiful, amazing thing in the world.  I love her more than words can say.

Xanax Who??

In five days, it will be a month since I found out I miscarried.  I've tried to keep my head up but it's hard.  I smoked pot a couple times.  Drank a lot of times.  Took some illegal pills.  Did the pot help?  No.  Did the drinking help?  No (but it was fun!).  Did the pills help?  Actually, yes, they did.  I'm not a drug addict.  That's in my past.  Okay, well in all honesty, once an addict, always an addict.  The difference between the past me and the present me?  I can control my urges.  The pills I took were Xanax.  Not only did they keep me calm and relaxed throughout the day, they also kept my panic attacks at bay.  I didn't forget anything that I wouldn't normally forget.  I didn't really get high from them - I wasn't nodding out, I was still able to function 100%.  Okay, maybe like 90%.  But they definitely helped me.  Haven't touched one since Saturday.  Still not back to normal, but what is normal?

Work is okay.  My social life sucks.  My home life sucks.  My boyfriend is awesome (most of the time).  But the number one thing in my life is still my greatest - my daughter.  She makes me happy (usually).  Of course, since she's only two, she drives me insane (then again, don't ALL kids drive you insane no matter what their age is?!).  But she's my heart.  She's the reason I haven't done anything serious to myself.  And I've had some serious thoughts.  Bad thoughts.  They come and go.  I should really get back to my therapy sessions.  Yes, I definitely should.