Saturday, April 19, 2014

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?



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