Drug Addiction Stories & Info

This time of year brings back memories, most good and a few that are sad. It’s a time of enjoying a break from school, taking vacations, people getting married. With me, though, it’s a time of reflection because not only is it summertime, it is also the anniversary of a time when my little sister hit her lowest point.

Summer was always beautiful. She was vivacious, well-liked, enthusiastic and loved life to no end. She was a sports fanatic and always the first to sign up for a team. She had a big heart and was always the first to sign up to help with a volunteer project.

Then came that early summer day when our small town was hit by a tornado. Summer’s best friend and her family were killed. My little sister was devastated. She seemed to lose her will to live and over that summer we noticed other changes. At first, we thought it was still depression over her friend’s death, but eventually we realized that Summer was on drugs.

When our parents confronted her, she denied it at first. She turned it around on them, asking how they could even think such a thing. They apologized.

But as summer ended and fall approached, bringing with it the beginning of Summer’s senior year, her mood swings escalated. One day, I came over with my little girl who was three at the time and I went into Summer’s room and did a search. I found some pills and some white powder. My little sister was indeed, on drugs.

That afternoon, we confronted her again, this time as a family with our pastor and a drug counselor in the room as well. Again Summer denied it till we showed her the evidence. Then she broke down. We were all crying when she said she felt guilty about being able to go on with the plans that she and her best friend had made, going to college, sharing a dorm room, going after their dreams.

“It’s not fair! I can’t do this without Shari, it’s not fair to her!” Summer cried.

The drug rehab counselor spoke up then. “Summer, the best thing you can do for Shari is make sure that you DO follow those dreams and fulfill your goals. If you give up, it makes Shari’s life seem meaningless and you know that isn’t so. Do this for you and for her.”

Then Summer told us something that shocked us. She said that she was planning to commit suicide on the six-month anniversary of Shari’s death. We all cried again as she agreed to get treatment.

That was ten years ago. Summer got into rehab, then finished school a semester late. We didn’t care, we were just grateful she was still with us. She went on to college, here at home instead of off somewhere else though, because she wanted and needed our support as she was still grieving. Then she got a job in the big city a hundred miles away and today she is living her dreams.

In the morning I am leaving to go spend a month with her. Every year I am there with her for a month as she gets through the anniversary of Shari’s death. I go to her meetings with her and we bond as sisters. She’s doing good and I am making sure she knows she has me. When Summer falls, her big sister and her support group are there for her. I sometimes think Shari’s above, watching over her and being there for her, too.

I remember the day I found it. I was driving across the country, making a fresh start. Breaking up with the man I was suppose to marry in just a week wasn’t the reason for my move. I could have handled living in the same town. The fact that his new girlfriend was my cousin? That hurt. After driving for hours, I checked in to a cheap motel to get some sleep. I was planning to move to Florida. My best friend lived there. She was married to a military guy and he was set to go on temporary duty for three months. She said I could stay with her while looking for a job and an apartment.

I recognized the white powder for what it was: cocaine. I knew because that was what my cousin’s brother had died from, a cocaine overdose. Did that give her an excuse every time she went after something she wanted? I didn’t think so. She used it, though, even telling me I could find someone else because Mark understood her and everything she had been through.

What to do, though, about the powder I found. Do I turn it in at the front desk? Do I call the police? Do I get involved? I had slept for a few hours but arguing in the room next to mine woke me up about 4 in the morning. Thirsty, I had grabbed one of the plastic cups, accidentally knocking the small ice bucket off the counter. The powder was underneath it.

My cousin was a few years older than me. He had never really been into drugs. He was a great kid. But one night he partied with some friends after his team won the regional championship and he gave in to peer pressure. He drank some beer and when the cocaine was introduced to the party and passed around, he went for it. He died before morning from an accidental overdose.

 Yes, my cousin had been through a lot. She lost her beloved brother. She saw her parents divorce and her mother slip into a depression. I looked at that white powder and quickly made the decision to flush it down the toilet. I know kids die every day from drugs. No one was going to die because of the powder I held in my hands.

I grabbed my things and checked out immediately. That afternoon, I arrived at my best friend’s house. My new life was just beginning.

My battle with drugs began as a teenager. I know now that it was a cry for help. I was the only survivor of a three-car accident that killed my parents and my brother. I was in the hospital for about a little over a week and became addicted to the pain reliever they had me on. I went to stay with my grandmother. I did not realize until I lost my family that I really had no one else besides her because both of my parents had been only children and my father’s parents were gone as was my grandfather on my mother’s side.

Somehow I made it through my junior and senior years. When the doctor and my grandmother decided I had been on pain relievers long enough, I found a new way to relieve my physical and emotional pain: crack cocaine. If my grandmother ever suspected, she didn’t let on.

After high school, I went to work in a call center for a major telephone company. I continued to live with my grandmother. While hitting up my dealer every chance I got for crack cocaine, I was also getting back into prescription meds. My grandmother’s health was failing and she began having a home health aide come in. It was this woman who would eventually answer my call for help and save my life.

One night I barely made it in from partying with friends. I took a couple of my prescription meds and dimly remember spilling the bottle of pills on the table. I began lining them up and playing with them. Then I passed out right there at the table.

My grandmother’s aide was staying over and she wandered into the kitchen sometime that night to get a drink of water and found me at the table surrounded by the pills and some white powder. She checked on me and found me to be breathing fine and somehow helped me to bed. The next morning when I got up, I went into the kitchen to find her at the table having coffee.

She sat me down and told me that she had a family member who had been on drugs and gotten clean at a local drug rehab center. She wanted to help me do the same. Seeing someone talk to me like they cared, having a conversation that was about me and my needs for a change made me break down and cry. She got someone to come in and watch my grandmother for a while and we went over to the drug rehab center. They helped me set up a leave of absence from work and helped me get off drugs.

My grandmother lived two more years. Her home health aide was there again for me as I was for her when my grandmother passed away. Aides become attached to their patients sometimes and she had fond feelings for my grandmother.

I did not slip into the abyss of drugs that time thanks to my support group and my grandmother’s aide who had become a good friend as well. I also met a wonderful man and I am engaged to be married. I still miss my family very much but now I know how to grieve properly without having a relapse. It is hard sometimes, but I know if I can do it, you can, too.