I lost a friend today, she died of a heroin overdose. Recovery is no joke, you either live or you die trying. I have heard that said, now I know what they mean. The reality of recovery is death, some of us do not make it.
Her name was Rita she was in Detox and then in Rehab with me. She really really wanted to be clean. I really, really, wanted to be clean. If she died, how close am I to dying from this God awful disease called addiction. “Cunning, powerful and baffling.” Triggers that come up and out of nowhere. Yes, I have the tools to work through the triggers but so did she. They found her dead in a gas station bathroom with a needle in her arm. Oh my God, I am terrified, I could be next. It scares me how this disease rears its ugly head out of nowhere. All I can think about is her intense brown eyes staring into mine and saying “I am going to beat this”. I remember how she cried in the room at night, her nightmares that she had, her personal demons that seemed so relentless. She would of remembered the same things about me.
I am so angry, so mad! She wanted to get clean, yet she died, with the demon in her arm. I kept in touch with her through facebook she had almost three years clean, she was changing. I understand the call of that demon, I know the fight she fought, but that doesn’t save her life and now I am scared about my own. Things have been going so good for me, I have been worried about the “other shoe falling”. It’s hard to learn that I deserve happiness, harder yet to learn to love myself. Sadly, when I heard the first thing I thought was your next.
This is why I am angry, I am not next. I know if I use again I will die. I know what death is like, and I am not ready for it. I am angry because her death was a waste of a beautiful person. I am learning that I am a beautiful person, maybe she never got that part of the lesson down, maybe something happened. Why didn’t she reach out for help? Her mom said she stopped going to meetings, well I guess that answers a lot, maybe she thought she had this problem licked.
I know I can never ever think that I have beat addiction, I will always be an addict, but the ending does not have to be the same for me jails, institutions and death. All I can do is cry and its so hard to explain to my family why, they don’t understand how scared I am. Imagine they asked me when I was going to stop going to meetings that did I really need to keep going. If I stop going I will without a doubt end up just like her, dead. I am not ready to die, I think I was spared because God wants me to be a testimonial to his love, his kingdom and his power, that recovery is possible. I can’t believe she is dead. I can’t believe how many of us have died.
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