Locked Inside Pain

Some days sobriety seems so far away, so unachievable, that anything else looks more favorable.

The long dark nights in the hood. Alone. Cold. Dope sick. Broke. There is no accountability anymore. You have already deserted your life, so dying isn't a scary feeling. No eyes to look into of loved ones who hold out their most desperate prayer that you will magically change. 

Jail is one of the single worst places I have lived. Weeks of my life in a room with other hopeless women. Everyone I met in jail felt hopeless, even on their best day. Not even the biggest smile could mask the pain in the sad eyes around me. The toughest fighter bled shame through her scowl. Yet somehow jail feels like an answer. I think it only means I won't have to make the choice. Relapse will not be an option while those walls stand high around me. 

I read this earlier today from an anonymous poster on a blog:

being a heroin addict is UNFORGIVABLE, how stupid can these people be. This is something you never never try if you have any brains, and is therefor not a forgivable addiction. It just indicates you are a weak non thinking ass.

I can't help but feel pain when I read that statement. I think that the majority of people feel that way. Even the people who don't admit it, and who don't want to. I wish I could put into words this evening the pain I feel knowing that I am an addict. Knowing it's my own fault that I have been stuck in the opiate trap.  

James 1 tells me to persevere and find joy in my trials. Quite honestly that has been my MO. Knowing that it is ALWAYS darkest before the dawn. 

I will let that be my hope again this evening. Tomorrow I will deal with these feelings again. With a new day, and hopefully a new perspective.

 

Craving Change

There comes a point for all of us when we crave change. By crave, I mean a desire so potent that it comes from a place deep inside of us, a desire we can't extinguish no matter how much we sleep.

I find that when I am at this point I have two choices. I give up, or I insert actions powerful enough to move me away from the sameness that haunts my days.

This craving is what lit the spark in me to get completely away from opiates. I found a doctor and counselor qualified and determined to teach me how I could make the permanent changes necessary to stay sober over a lifetime. I opened this blog as an outlet for my feelings, and as a source of inspiration for others who want to be free of opiates.

Three weeks into my new fight I find myself craving even more than this. I have lost my focus over the last week. My joy is being overpowered by negative thoughts and days filled living on the edge of dope sickness and depression.

I see my doctor in a few more hours. I plan to ask him if at this point of taking less than 1 pill a day, should I go ahead and go cold turkey for the rest? Throw all of the withdrawal into a few days, and get on with my life. I honestly do not know what his answer will be. I wish I had access to ex-junkies for some guidance.

Nevertheless, my first step today was to pray. Next to write, and then I'll force myself on a walk and to do some yoga. Maybe I can jump start my endorphins that way.  know that if I want my circumstances to change I have to change what I do during my day. This will be the part of the fight where I literally have to drag myself through the motions and pray for results. I know that I won't change if I lay around sad all day, so nothing I do can be worse than how I have felt all week.

The goal is to stay sober and away from a street drug relapse. Thanks to the few of you who are reading and sending me comments. Believe it or not, those few words send me more hope than you can imagine. I am posting this entry on both of my blogs this morning. http://suboxonestopping@blogspot.com & http://opiatetrap@blogspot.com I'll update later on how the day went.

Escaping the Trap?

If you are on Suboxone or have ever gotten free from it, I'd love your advice, rants, comments, critique. Here is my day 22 journal entry from Suboxone stopping:

http://suboxonestopping.blogspot.com/2014/04/day-22.html

Junkie Say:Junkie Who? Middle Aged Women Using Dangerous street Drugs.

If someone tells you that women in their 20's, 30's & 40's including middle class married mothers, are at the top of the list for black tar heroin users, would you believe it?

Personally, that doesn't make much sense at first. So why give that statement much thought? Well, I can tell you firsthand that I am a mother in her 30's. I had never done BTH in my 20's or teens. Honestly, I do not have much experience even being around it. I know people who did and that was the extent of my relationship to the subject.

So why would I be surprised that my relapse after years of sobriety took place when I was doing some contract work at a clients house. A woman; an ex-model, married to an NFL player, in her 40's or 50's with children, a nice home, money, cars, and lots of friends. From the outside looking in she lived every woman's dream. A great life and didn't have to work if she chose not to. Of all of the places in all of the world I told myself to stay away from, this was nowhere near on the list.

I simply ran a small business so I could spend more time with my own children. Thrilled to work for a new client, I didn't put any red flags up at the situation. No need for my anti-drug radar to signal. Relapse was the furthest thing from my mind.

I received an invite from this client for  cocktails at one of her girlfriends houses on a nice patio by a pool. This Friday night sounded perfect for the single Mom who needed a little something new to spice her dad to day up a little. The friend whose house we gathered at shared most of the characteristics in her life as my client.

A third woman, a 49 year old also joined us. She married a lawyer and had a great teenage son. From the outside she had it all!

I was enjoying myself and not expecting what came up within the first 10 minutes. Two of the women started doing lines of coke, and the 3rd went to the bathroom for what seemed like the whole night. Later I find out she is shooting up tar. This was the night of my relapse. I hadn't planned it, didn't see it coming, and did not say no. 

The 4 of us look like the women you see at Whole Foods, the Country Club, any number of 'normal' everyday activities that 'happy' women are found. 

It was the next day I started questioning how many happy people were doing serious narcotics on a daily basis. the answer to my question was clear as the next few weeks passed. ALOT, and most were women, although I saw many men in suits and ties with a needle. 

This clearly contradicts with the things we hear about people who do cocaine, heroin, and other drugs. We hear junkie, and think of the poor person scrambling through garbage cans. Teenagers and party animals in their 20's. 

Maybe this is the first thing wrong with stomping out the drug problem? One of my doctors has told me that the rise of women in their 30's and 40's that IV heroin are taking over like a tidal wave. I don't hear much about this through media, but I see it in waiting room, meetings, rehabs, and most importantly on the streets where junkies buy. 

Why is this? How can we explain the lack of info on this specific type of drug user? My first reaction is that women of this age are compiled with a ton of stress, conditioned to handle it without complaint, and scared to admit it for fear of judgement. 

Any thoughts or knowledge on this topic?

When You Lose the Things You Love

I did not initially lose my children to CPS because of drugs. They were taken on allegations that were not true. A never ending war my ex waged year after year to ruin my life. I had won each time this happened in the past, because I gave them no reason to keep my kids. This time was different. This time they got a warrant to take them before I had a court date, and I died inside. 

Had I kept myself together, I would have won the case and they may have come home. Instead I went back to drugs to cope with not having them home. I did not cooperate with CPS, and they still have them. I say I lose them, bit it feels like I gave them away. 

Now granted, they cheated and lied in order to win their case, but that is neither here nor there. In my right mind I would have had the focus and motivation to tear them up on my court date. All those days of self loathing and sadness led to more sadness. 

Today is Easter, and I find myself laying in bed mid-afternoon. It' days like this I miss them most. We always had an Easter cookout at our house after church. If I even think about these memories I breakdown. I know that the first step to getting them back is getting clean from Suboxone so that I am able to use my inner strength and not the fake strength the medicine provides.  Saying it is so much easier than doing it. 

I have spent so many days waking up only to wish the day was over so that I can go back to sleep. Will the opiate trap ever set me free? 

As much as I am hurting, I know my children probably hurt that much more. 

Heroin in Happy Meals?

Now this is some crazy stuff to me! Ordering a Happy Meal with code words will get you some smack. It doesn't surprise me that heroin is the rising drug.  Check out the article... it's not too long.

http://www.drugaddictiontreatment.com/types-of-addiction/heroin-types-of-addiction/the-frightening-heroin-resurgence/

The Opiate Trap in Full Effect!

Today the reality of what the opiate trap is all about weighed hard on my willpower. The hatred for the rope that tightens firmly around my neck. Longing for the relief it provides. The death of  physical and emotional pain. 

I force myself to remember the times I was stuck on the street. Desperate to score hour after hour. the sad lonely ache that never left me. I am truly feeling for the addicts out there tonight. I am thinking about them, and hoping for their safety, peace, and that they might find way out of the trap. 

A reminder to share this blog with a loved one or through social media to help reach the addicts who need a first step!

I Can Get My Drug of Choice At the Drugstore.

I know my journey into the Opiate Trap started out the same way as many others.  With a legitimate injury and trip to the doctors office. I can't put my finger on the exact moment when taking my Vicodin went from every 2-4 hours, to 24 hours a day. I believe I was in my mid 20's. Little did I know that in another 10 years I'd graduate the trap with a Masters in heroin. 

Yes, my compulsive and addictive behavior had made it's debut years before, but it showed it's face as a wild girl who smoked pot and hung around with bad boys for the most part. The control I desperately longed for was maintained through my bulimia. Narcotics were yet to enter my world.  Looking back, all red flags that signaled a troubled young lady had taken root. 

When a broken ankle followed a broken tooth, and a car wreck came shortly after those two, was it inevitable that I'd succumb to a painkiller addiction? Sometimes I laugh at the double meaning of painkiller. I know all too well that the pain I wanted to kill was in my heart. Vicodin killed the painful  memories that flooded my sober mind. I went from a depressed, struggling, single Mommy to an energetic, patient, accomplished super Mom. 

The family was so proud of me. I saw no reason to think I was an addict. Then something happened. I ran out of pain killers. Boy did the pain come back. It didn't come alone though, it brought leg cramps and dope sickness with it. 

Just that fast. I am trapped. I do not posses the ability to be rational during the withdrawal stage, so I do what it takes to get high. Whatever it takes. Once I have scored and get that rush again, it hits me the desperation of my actions and I feel guilty. I say to myself, I will not let this control me! I can handle it! Those words are easy to say when the pain is dead again. What happens now? I run out again. Desperation. 

Does any of this sound familiar? Am I the only one who got stuck in the opiate trap this way?

Another Suboxone Story

I felt this is worthy to share.

https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8452076560635353634&postID=3400007765428425276&page=1&token=1397883093185

It's Not That Simple

Drug addiction is not a simple problem. We are a world that stereotypes. It's easy to group certain types of people into a box. We can toss drug addicts together in a population of bad people who only care about themselves. How could a we shoot heroin, smoke crack, drop acid, if we loved our family? If we cared about our friends why would we do that to them. Do we not care enough about our own children enough to stay clean?

These are all questions I have been asked. I have been publicly accused of caring about nothing but myself and my next fix. Sometimes the rage that cranks through my body when I hear words such as those targeted at me enrage me to the point where I must choose to say nothing in defense of myself. For if I respond in any other way I might lose full control of myself. Consequently, that brands me even more selfish. Now I flat out don't give a damn enough to even justify an answer.

Here is my question. How on earth is that fact that these drug addicts are actual. real people escaping the minds of the perfect? When asked in Elementary School what I wanted to be when I grew up, I did not say, "A Junkie!"

I had no idea I was headed down that road. My very first 'addictive' behavior was a simple act of defiance against my mother. She herself was in so much pain that she drank into a stupor night after night. Telling me I was worthless. I'd never amount to anything. I looked like a whore. (at 11 years old) I hurt so badly, all day every day, that I could barely breathe sometimes. 

So lighting up a cigarette at 14 while she was passed out downstairs seemed like a way to channel the hurt. All I wanted was to feel. To feel loved. To NOT feel lonely. To make my mother happy. Which as a child I had no idea that was impossible. She didn't not lash out at me because I did anything wrong. If only I had known that then. She DID love me. She DIDNT mean those things. She herself was in PaiN. Would I be different? I love her so much, would I have made her proud?

Would I have gone down the same roads year after year? Hurting then numbing then guilt then hurt myself more to extinguish the guilt? Rinse and repeat. Worse every time. 

I am not the only person like this. Every. Single. Addict. Has. A. Story. A story filled with pain and suffering. I'd bet my life that most of us wanted better for ourselves. By the time we were old enough to understand what was happening, our destructive paths were already well on there ways.

Are you this person? Is someone you love this person? Do you need to understand someone like this? Please follow my blog on the right. Subscribe. Follow me on Google. Shoot me an email and comment. I want something good to come from my past, pain, and stories. I want something GREAT to come out of my recovery. 

The Monster.

The one inside my brain that tells me to 'eff' it all. That no matter how hard I try, I'll never be sober. Never stay sober. That it is only a matter of time until I choose to blow my mind up with narcotics. 
That first hit on the crack pipe. The first shot. The one that tells you you want more. It's a liar. It's a monster. The beginning of the destruction of the dreams in your heart. The demise of the willpower to accomplish anything beyond getting high. 
The monster talks to me still. I am trying to kill it, trying to wipe it's influence from my existence. My greatest fear is that the monster, at best, will only stay sleeping. That as many days or years that I might win sobriety, I will always be one step away from using again. 

Somehow for today, I know that I need to ignore it. I will turn from the desire, and use the things I am learning to get me until tomorrow. I know this will quiet it to a degree. As it sits quietly in my thoughts, I can still feel it stir, wanting to find new ways to win me over again. 

It's Okay Not To Suffer?

I kinda want to title this one, "IS It Okay Not To Suffer?"  I mean, I AM a junkie, right? Getting clean is not supposed to be a walk in the park. We reap what we sow, and junkie life sows nothing but turmoil and garbage. 

Why would I reap anything besides turmoil and garbage if that's who I am?

SCREECH to a HALT!!!

Could this way of thinking be part of what keeps us in the opiate trap for years...decades even?  The thinking that has changed nothing. If the 1st rule of becoming different is to actually CHANGE, then we better start treating ourselves better than garbage. 

I know...I know... it doesn't feel normal. I know we can tell our brains to at least speak those words.  We can drudge through the motions and fake it. (which as junkies we know we can do) Our hearts could eventually catch up. 

Such  cliche, yes, but that does not make it untrue. 

WE all could have a PhD in faking and masking feelings, so faking the good kind is simply a minor alteration. The worst thing that can happen is we do not change at all. 
The payoff is we will begin to enjoy living again. For our own sakes. 

We are NOT garbage. We ARE worthwhile. We deserve happiness! We will cut ourselves a break! 

Junkies: say that out loud... even a whisper, I don't care, just get the words out of your mouth. If I can do it, You can. 
Alright. Now the first part is done. It came out of our mouths. So what's next? How do we begin to treat ourselves better than garbage?

Stay tuned...

Suboxone: Friend or Foe? Part One

For those of you who are not familiar with Suboxone, it is part of the opioid family. Partly synthetic, it's used for opioid addiction treatment, and sometimes for pain management. Here is a link to Wikipedia if you would like to know more. 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buprenorphine

I believe that Suboxone played a crucial part in helping to save my life from continuing on the destructive and suicidal path I was on. If you have read my 'Shot in the Dark, Right at My Throat' post, you heard the mind trap I needed to battle my way out of. 

Here are snippets of 3 essential components I believe we need to begin our battle to freedom. 

1. A loved one who will commit to unconditionally love and support you through this process unconditionally. 

2. A doctor and/or counselor that will monitor your medicine and your mental state very closely. 

3. Suboxone

Let me stress the words 'to begin the battle'. as these 3 things alone will not carry us to the point of maintaining a healthy, happy lifestyle. I will take each component and break it down in a post of it's own. Nothing is short or simple about recovery.



Advantages of Suboxone:

~Hinders the physical withdrawal symptoms
      The horrendous withdrawal off of heroin, Vicodin, and other opiates often paralyzes us in fear. We may want to stop using and continue to use only to satiate the physical need for the drug. 

~Blocks the 'high' feeling that other opiates produce. I can tell you firsthand that I tested this theory. Even with the absence of physical pain, my brain continued to tell me it wanted to use. Not only does using opiates while on Suboxone not get you high, but we are further frustrated when we have spent the money, the time, and suffered a relapse for an empty drug. 

Disadvantages of Suboxone

~It is still a form of opiate, and you will have withdrawals if you stop taking it abruptly
     We might say that moving from opiates to Suboxone is a lateral move if we look at it from the perspective that we will still be physically addicted to opiates. 


~If used as a solution to opiate dependents I believe it will fail. Many doctors, including one of my own,  treat heroin addicts with suboxone by once a month office visits, writing a new script, and never outlining any further treatment plan. Although we may not get high off of Suboxone, we are still a slave in the opiate trap. What fun is it to be in the opiate trap without the opiate high? 

We only touched on the bare basics of the advantages and disadvantages of Suboxone. As we addicts know, nothing about addiction is this simple. We did not become emotion numbing, hurting drug users overnight. I am certain each of our stories once broken down hold many complex and unique situations dabbled over years...decades....a lifetime....

Sincere gratitude to my readers. 

When CPS takes your family

All I can think about are my children. When CPS took them from me, I lost my will to get up. It's bad enough to have CPS knocking at your door for bogus charges from a jealous ex, but how long can you blame someone else?

When I say lost my will to get up- I mean I physically had trouble moving my body parts. They were my life. My smiles. My family.

They cried when CPS took them. A CPS worker got a judge to sign a warrant for their removal after he came to my house and saw an air-conditioning valve that he claimed was a drug pipe.

Of course this got straightened out in court, but by then it was too late. I had ruined us. I had that first hit and it kept me from the pain of losing my kids. So when that spiraled outta control they were able to keep them from me forever.

My one and only hope in this world is that freedom from opiates will get me my kids back. Even against impossible odds. CPS said that heroin users are hopeless- unable to be recovered.

And they won.

Eenie-Meenie-Minie-Moe

Eenie meenie minie moe
Pick a vice to kill your soul
any vice will kill u slow!

Eenie-meenie-minie-moe

I never like to think of myself as a 'bad person'. Unfortunately drug users get that wrap. Even if a person won't say it to you- 9 times out of 10 I am willing to bet they are discouraged I am on drugs and unable to free myself from addiction. 


I am firm in the belief that drug addition rarely stands alone. It always runs hand in hand with something else. Eating disorders, depression, sex issues, anxiety, low self esteem, breaking the law, bad relationships, childhood trauma, rape. 

The list could go on. The frustration sometimes eats me up inside that some don't understand how much is involved in becoming an addict. Resulting in the difficult path necessary to quit. Some people just don't understand. I have to accept that. 

The Obsession with Obessioning

I remember over a decade ago when my first thought as I woke was a pain pill. Followed by thoughts of how to take less that day. More thoughts of how to prolong that first pill. Obsessing over every aspect of using, and not using. 

It was less than a week into my first shot of Heroin in which my first awakening thought questioned how I would get high. Where would the money come from today? How about the gas? All the plotting and planning to stay even. Only to go rock that score and start the planning over again. 

Mindless and endless hours of obsession. 

This is what I refer to as the opiate trap.

Today I find myself waking up to question how many suboxone do I have left? I am running low. How can I make that one last? Should I order more from the pharmacy? Maybe today is my last day? Thoughts dive straight into fear. Will I get dope sick?! 

And slowly my mind tells my brain to shut down so I can focus on my actual day. 

When there are no more drugs to take, no more pills for withdrawal, no more schedules or tapers, what will my mind obsess on my first waking thought of the daylight?

Stopping Suboxone Day 2

Please click the link below to be routed to my Suboxone Stopping Blog!

http://suboxonestopping.blogspot.com/2014/04/day-2-its-start.html

Suboxone Taper

I have decided to post my daily suboxone taper journal. If you look on the right hand side of my page and click 'Suboxone Updates'.
I'd love any advice or feedback if you have been through the process. 

For those of you inquiring about how it feels to get off Subs- I will be as forthright as possible!

Thanks

Brain Chemical Breakdown

To understand why people continue to use drugs despite all horror stories and facts, it helps to understand what drugs do to our brain, as well as what happens to our brain when we stop using. 

Serotonin-Regulates sleep and appetite

Dopamine- The feel good chemical- Plays an important role in mood, energy, attitude, and motivation.

GABA- Acts as your calming neurotransmitter, helping you relax.

Acetylcholine- Handles processing information and memory. 

Drugs, narcotics, and especially opiates effect the distribution and regulation of each of these chemicals. 
Opiates trigger and enhance pleasure, increasing endorphin levels in the brain. The amount of endorphin's that flood in when an opiate is taken alerts our body. Imagine pumping gas into an already full tank. The gas will begin to overflow, and then cut off because it has been signaled to stop pumping. Much like our brains are signaled to produce less endorphin's because of the opiates power to flood our brain. Eventually our bodies will no longer make endorphin's because they are being provided through the narcotic source. 
If a person whose body has ceased endorphin production quits taking an opiate, the brain will essentially be depleted of 'happy chemicals'. 

The best way I can describe what this does emotionally to a person is to say that I felt not only numb, but void of any feeling. An empty soul unable to smile, and unable to understand why. 

Shot in the Dark & Right at My Throat

OMG. I'm F*@ked.

The first words out of my mouth. I will never forget those moments. The hours, days,  and weeks before are all a blur. However, nothing will ever erase the clarity of those few moments.

I can vividly recall the smells. The temperature of my body. The bodies around me. No faces, only bodies. The sharpness of the point. The fear. The pressure in my eyelids as I scrunched them closed in anticipation. That feeling. Oh that feeling. I told them I should never do it. I told them. They said I'd be okay. I knew better. I told them I KNEW if I did it- I'd love it. I. HAD. NO. IDEA. My expectations of the euphoria truly underestimated the level of ecstasy that traveled slowly through the vessels inside of me. At each turn feeling the devil penetrate a new level of pleasure I had never known. Not even in my wildest dreams.

See, I can only illustrate the story from my own point of view. When you spend the majority of your life in emotional pain that you yourself can't understand, physical euphoria can be a tricky vice to shake. The physical nature of heroin is so powerful, that it extends far beyond what the mind can handle. It grabs your mind in it's claws. Clenches it with a grip so tight, that the only thing you can see clearly is that you might not pry through the fingers of the iron fist alive. You know it's a trap. All of these feelings running rampant in my brain in less than 2 minutes of the experience.

Heroin addicts.  Many labels are attributed to 'these kind of people'. None of which are positive. I would venture to guess that most heroin addicts are...or were... good people before that first hit. This next statement may only make sense to 'them'. When the first hit of heroin pierces the body, you are fully aware of the stigmata. At that moment you become fully aware of the power of something truly evil. As a small being bouncing around the inside of the iron fist, you try to jump out. You want to, but the euphoria sucks you back in like a vacuum. In attempt to combat the judgement passed on you, it's easier to actively seek out a life that reflects that judgement.

Here lies the problem. Euphoria. Judgement. Addiction. Suffocation. Morality. Choice. Betrayal. Dishonesty. Entrapment. Good. Evil. Darkness overcoming the light with it's giant shadow. 

I don't want to talk about this. I don't want to share it. I am terrified. It eats away at me month after month.  I need to allow these thoughts to live as something other than a nightmare held captive in my brain. Maybe in attempt to relate to someone else in pain? Not that anyone will ever see it... but maybe they will. Maybe you saw it. I figure I have already lost everything. They already have their opinion of who I am and what I have done. So what do I have to lose?

How Did I Get This Way?

Rewind a few decades. One does not become a junkie overnight. By junkie, I mean a lifestyle. A lifestyle associated with the numbing of pain by using any means necessary. 

For a long time I tried to blame my drug addiction on anything but me. My parents divorce, childhood trauma, nobody likes me, a poor girl in a rich city, the junkie baby daddy- you name it. The fact of the matter is that all those aspects of my life contributed to me becoming a junkie. When it comes down to it we all write our own story. What we as ourselves do willingly is considered our choice. Our choices all combined over time write our story. Nobody forced me to numb my pain the way I chose to numb my pain. Sadly I don't always feel as though I had a choice, or a support system, but I did choose. 

At age 16. Drinking all day at school and on my lunch breaks. I'd drink and puke. I would force myself to throw up. Bulimia. My first attempt to alleviate my pain. Almost as if the purging itself would purge my emotion. 

I quickly learned that not only did making myself vomit not alleviate the pain, but it made it worse. (duh) 

One of the hardest things I believe that we can face in life is the realization that we have severely screwed up by our own choice. By our own free will. It's a catch-22. Once you admit (to yourself) that you chose this, you want to block that realization out as well. 

and so it began....

The Who

Welcome. If you have stumbled upon this page perhaps you are interested in the subject of opiates. Now I am not YET a PhD in this field, but I have been trapped in the dark, tumultuous world of drugs for a very long time. Tolerating myself  through the sober years and suffering through mind numbing wreckage during times I spent actively using. 

If you have tried an opiate, are addicted to opiates, experienced opiate withdrawal or known someone in the opiate trap; we can relate. 

Addicted to painkillers for many years, and more recently trading that in for heroin, I've taken many rides on the rickety, unstable, roller coaster of hell. Methadone and Suboxone provided me a way out from black tar heroin. A safety net I will always be grateful for, but most certainly not the end of the road. I am currently on an intensive plan to wean off of Suboxone. I have danced a dance with all the members of the opiate family. I've yet to encounter one who has not let me down. 

I know my sharing my story serves a purpose and that my blog needs readers. I'm hopeful those readers direct the hurting opiate addicted human beings to this page. I do not write for hedonistic pleasure, but to be a light for hurting people. My own wreckage can only be salvaged by passing on knowledge and lending an ear who has no judgement to those in the midst of turmoil.

My primary intention is serving the anxious, tormented, and tortured souls stuck in the opiate trap.

I will  provide a resource to educate anyone about opiates, physical addiction, mental addiction, and brain chemistry, as well as tangible and practical recovery steps. It is my deepest hope that you and your loved ones will find solace and your own unique and successful direction through my experience.