Drug Addiction Stories & Info

When I saw her email, I paused. It took me back to just why I was in that moment and place in time where I was reading her email. The blog was going well. Opening it up to allow others to share their stories was helping not only to get the word out that help is available, but also was letting people know they were not alone. The stories people were gracious enough to share with us and allow us to share with others on the site showed people seeking help that it is available and they can be treated because it worked for the ones who paid it forward by sharing their own stories.

That is how I feel, how I felt even before the wonderful movie came out years ago by the same name. Still, it was because at one time, I was that young teenage girl. I was the one who’s mother was on drugs. The young girl emailed us seeking help when she saw the post about the young woman who had lost her mother. She did not want that to happen in her life with her own mother. I emailed her back and we talked on the phone. Her mother was there in the room. The young girl had showed her the post.

My mother is clean now although she does have health problems. Still, the last 18 years with her have been a treasure that I might not have had if she had overdosed and died like the mother in the post shared by one of our readers. I was able to tell the young girl’s mother that during our conversation. With her permission I can share that before the day was over, she agreed to get help. As I respect their privacy, that is all I am sharing.

My mother does not see my position as an intake counselor as something against her. Rather, she sees it as me helping others the way she said I helped her. I see it as a way to pay it forward, to validate that my mother is still here today and I want the same for another young girl or boy living now what I lived then.

There is hope. There is help. Every time I hug my mother, I know this. Every time a teen or other family member emails me, I tell them this. Every time an addict seeks help, I see it. There is hope. Before we hung up, the young girl told me I was making her greatest wish come true and thanked me for being her hero. I told her she was the hero, for she had told her mother how she felt and was the catalyst for getting her mother help that day.

After the call, I slipped off on a break and called my own mother. I told her I just wanted to say hi and that I love her. She knew I was at work and she knew I must have had a special conversation but like always, she asked no questions as she respects that my job requires confidentiality. She simply said she loved me, too, and hugged me through the phone.   Then I went back to my desk to continue paying it forward,  I was where I wanted to be.