Ladybug - Part IV "Lifer"

I have a confession to make: you aren't the only ones who have heard my story before. I have stood in front of medical students and veteran doctors alike and told [parts of] my story in hospitals across the Boston area. I do these talks not because I am paid, or because I get some sort of prize at the end like a sticker or lollipop. No, I do these talks for two reasons: the first is education. You would be surprised at how many doctors are not educated about addiction and medications to treat it. The second: to earn some positive karma points (in the hopes that it crosses out some of the shitty things I have done). In our society, judgement day is every day. I know that even after all these years I still get the eye when my criminal record pops up. Explaining why you were arrested for possession of hypodermic needles, possession, larceny, or any of the other fuckery that I was arrested for is never an easy task. And while society can be harsh, it is still nothing like the judgement of junkies.

See, what a lot of people don't realize is that no one is harder on addicts than other addicts. If you got high off of pills you probably thought you were better than a heroin addict. If you got high off of crack cocaine; you were looked down upon by those who only snorted the drug. This attitude that we had, myself included, even came to sobriety. 

See, if you were on the methadone clinic you beneath all of the above mentioned. From the beginning of my drug use, it was ingrained in me that methadone was “bad” and that it was the same as shooting dope. That people on the clinic were “lifers” doing life sentences handcuffed to another drug. Because methadone was “just replacing one drug with another drug and a person on the clinic isn't 'really' clean... I believed it all and judged every soul who made that choice. I think part of me thought I would be able to get clean once the time came… 

Unfortunately, that time came and went many times. I spent countless days in detoxes and halfway houses but sobriety just never stuck. The cravings were so, so strong. I always ended up in the same place: relapsing. I knew I had an addiction but didn't realize the mental aspect of it until I started to attempt sobriety. As a heroin addict, I was always concerned with the physical aspect of my addiction: muscle aches, anxiety, hot and cold flashes, nausea, cold sweats, and restlessness. 

After so many failed attempts at getting clean, it started to take a toll on me. I was overdosing left and right and was mentally fucked up so it made things worse. I was tired of the life and tired of spending day after day chasing my next fix. The drug that had been my friend, companion, and lover was no longer. As the days went by and the relapses added up; I didn't want to live anymore. It's quite simple when I look back: I was so desperate to stop the madness and I thought the only way to do it was to either stay sober or die: By the drug that I loved or by my own hand…

Anonymous

Please read the complete Ladybug series by clicking on the following:

Ladybugs - Part I  
Ladybugs Part II
Ladybugs - Part III