An accidental addict-One Mother's story
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Location: Litchfield, Ohio
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An accidental addict-One Mother's story
An accidental addict- One mother’s story
I can clearly remember the day I first felt the jolt of pain down my back and my legs and I crumbled to the floor in our bedroom. My husband came running to my side to ask what was wrong. I had no idea. All I knew was that there was an excrutiating pain in my lower back and it was sending shock waves down the backs of both my legs. I couldn’t stand up. I was crying. I only had that pain one time before, ironically enough, when I was pregnant with Jimmy. At 8 months the sciatica started and it didn’t relent until after I gave birth. I knew right then that it was the same thing. Something was wrong with my back.
My husband took me to the E.R. where they treated me with pain meds and an X ray and sent me for a follow up with my physician. They sent me home with 30 percocet. The Percocet immediately helped with the pain and it also numbed everything else. So, I went to see my primary doctor who sent me for an MRI and it determined I had a prolapsed disk along with degenerative bone disease and osteoarthritis. I was 43 at the time. He sent me to a spine doctor who didn’t think I was at the point for needing surgery yet, but they determined I needed pain management.
So, I went over to pain management and they set me up with epidural spine block shots, which the first time I got them, scared the **** out of me. After recovery, I got up and the doctor handed me a script for 120 percocet and said we’ll see you next month to see how you’re doing. I remember looking at that bottle and thinking, “Holy ****. That’s a lot of ******* pills.” What was I going to do with all of those pills?
The first month or so I was like, “look at all these pills I still have left. I don’t know how people become addicted to these. I’m certainly not going to.” I was proud of myself for having so many left over. My husband and I took a trip to San Francisco and we walked around that entire city. I had another massive flare up and had to double up on the meds to even walk. When we got back home, I saw the doc again and he gave me my quarterly spine injections and another refill for 120 percocet. This went on for years.
During this time, there is another story that comes into play- one I’m writing separately but it’s important to talk about some of it here for the context of my story. My pills starting disappearing and at first I didn’t realize it because I wasn’t really dependant upon them (yet).
But soon, I’d notice I would run out a week before and I’d call the doctor and he said “well, we can’t prescribe anymore. You have to find a place to lock up your meds.” So, I went through some mini withdrawals. Nothing horrible. Well, it turns out my son, who is an addict, was stealing my pain pills. No matter where I hid them, he would find them. He had a full blown addiction that I knew nothing about, but would soon be thrust into the his hell of addiction. I'll go more into his story later.
To make a long story short, I became addicted to opiates as well. I was going through over 120 pills a month and when I'd run out, I had friends who gave them to me. I tried to quit numerous times over the past 2 years or so. The longest I ever made it was 21 days.
Well, two weeks ago, i went through 94 pills in about a week. And they were a high dose. I talked to my doctor, I started opening up. I told my husband I had a problem I even talked to family members. As a matter of fact I ran out early one time and my husband knew I was sick and he gave me one he had been saving after his back surgery, just so I'd feel better. I knew it was time to get off these. I was also drinking wine while taking the pills. I knew it had to stop. Where pills used to make me feel better and give me energy, all they did now was suck my energy and turn me into a nasty lump of nothingness. Not to mention my health going down the tubes. I was tired of the counting, lurking in the pharmacy feeling like a criminal, the explaining, the sickness. Just tired of it. I can't tell you what made this time different from the last 3 or 4 where I was certain I was going to quit. It just is. On July 25, I took my last pill. It was Sunday morning. By Sunday night I was sick as can be. I mean, I had taken almost 100 7.5/325 mg pills in that week alone. Monday was miserable and I had to work. I wanted to die. But I didn't ask anyone for pills. I called my doctor office and asked them to take the perks off my refill list. That was HUGE step. Those pills were my best friend for 6 years. I can't tell you how proud of myself I was.
I'll be 50 next February. Half my life is gone. I've spent 6 years of my forties as an addict. I don't want to spend any more time wasting my life on a lie. The pills are a lie. I took them because they made me feel calm, they helped me cope, they helped to deal with things I didn't want to deal with. But the pills lie. They don't help any of those things and eventually, they didn't even do that for me any more. So, I'm done.
I'm officially on day 9 of recovery right now. I'm past the worst part, but I have no energy and the mental part is horrible. I have Ativan, Ambien and the doctor just gave me Effexor. I'm hoping to get off the Ativan since I started the Effexor and then eventually the Ambien.
I just want my life back. I want to feel normal again. I want to feel JOY again. I talk with my son and he knows what I'm going through. He's going to be 25. I definitely think it is affecting how he thinks about his addiction as well. I hope it does. Someday I'll tell his story, it's heartbreaking. There are many things that let me down this path and I won't lie, his addiction and all the heartache that came with it certainly contributed, but I'll never tell him that. There are other factors as well. Now all I can do is forgive myself, Look to God and my family, pray, be healthy and think as positive as I can.
Much love.
I can clearly remember the day I first felt the jolt of pain down my back and my legs and I crumbled to the floor in our bedroom. My husband came running to my side to ask what was wrong. I had no idea. All I knew was that there was an excrutiating pain in my lower back and it was sending shock waves down the backs of both my legs. I couldn’t stand up. I was crying. I only had that pain one time before, ironically enough, when I was pregnant with Jimmy. At 8 months the sciatica started and it didn’t relent until after I gave birth. I knew right then that it was the same thing. Something was wrong with my back.
My husband took me to the E.R. where they treated me with pain meds and an X ray and sent me for a follow up with my physician. They sent me home with 30 percocet. The Percocet immediately helped with the pain and it also numbed everything else. So, I went to see my primary doctor who sent me for an MRI and it determined I had a prolapsed disk along with degenerative bone disease and osteoarthritis. I was 43 at the time. He sent me to a spine doctor who didn’t think I was at the point for needing surgery yet, but they determined I needed pain management.
So, I went over to pain management and they set me up with epidural spine block shots, which the first time I got them, scared the **** out of me. After recovery, I got up and the doctor handed me a script for 120 percocet and said we’ll see you next month to see how you’re doing. I remember looking at that bottle and thinking, “Holy ****. That’s a lot of ******* pills.” What was I going to do with all of those pills?
The first month or so I was like, “look at all these pills I still have left. I don’t know how people become addicted to these. I’m certainly not going to.” I was proud of myself for having so many left over. My husband and I took a trip to San Francisco and we walked around that entire city. I had another massive flare up and had to double up on the meds to even walk. When we got back home, I saw the doc again and he gave me my quarterly spine injections and another refill for 120 percocet. This went on for years.
During this time, there is another story that comes into play- one I’m writing separately but it’s important to talk about some of it here for the context of my story. My pills starting disappearing and at first I didn’t realize it because I wasn’t really dependant upon them (yet).
But soon, I’d notice I would run out a week before and I’d call the doctor and he said “well, we can’t prescribe anymore. You have to find a place to lock up your meds.” So, I went through some mini withdrawals. Nothing horrible. Well, it turns out my son, who is an addict, was stealing my pain pills. No matter where I hid them, he would find them. He had a full blown addiction that I knew nothing about, but would soon be thrust into the his hell of addiction. I'll go more into his story later.
To make a long story short, I became addicted to opiates as well. I was going through over 120 pills a month and when I'd run out, I had friends who gave them to me. I tried to quit numerous times over the past 2 years or so. The longest I ever made it was 21 days.
Well, two weeks ago, i went through 94 pills in about a week. And they were a high dose. I talked to my doctor, I started opening up. I told my husband I had a problem I even talked to family members. As a matter of fact I ran out early one time and my husband knew I was sick and he gave me one he had been saving after his back surgery, just so I'd feel better. I knew it was time to get off these. I was also drinking wine while taking the pills. I knew it had to stop. Where pills used to make me feel better and give me energy, all they did now was suck my energy and turn me into a nasty lump of nothingness. Not to mention my health going down the tubes. I was tired of the counting, lurking in the pharmacy feeling like a criminal, the explaining, the sickness. Just tired of it. I can't tell you what made this time different from the last 3 or 4 where I was certain I was going to quit. It just is. On July 25, I took my last pill. It was Sunday morning. By Sunday night I was sick as can be. I mean, I had taken almost 100 7.5/325 mg pills in that week alone. Monday was miserable and I had to work. I wanted to die. But I didn't ask anyone for pills. I called my doctor office and asked them to take the perks off my refill list. That was HUGE step. Those pills were my best friend for 6 years. I can't tell you how proud of myself I was.
I'll be 50 next February. Half my life is gone. I've spent 6 years of my forties as an addict. I don't want to spend any more time wasting my life on a lie. The pills are a lie. I took them because they made me feel calm, they helped me cope, they helped to deal with things I didn't want to deal with. But the pills lie. They don't help any of those things and eventually, they didn't even do that for me any more. So, I'm done.
I'm officially on day 9 of recovery right now. I'm past the worst part, but I have no energy and the mental part is horrible. I have Ativan, Ambien and the doctor just gave me Effexor. I'm hoping to get off the Ativan since I started the Effexor and then eventually the Ambien.
I just want my life back. I want to feel normal again. I want to feel JOY again. I talk with my son and he knows what I'm going through. He's going to be 25. I definitely think it is affecting how he thinks about his addiction as well. I hope it does. Someday I'll tell his story, it's heartbreaking. There are many things that let me down this path and I won't lie, his addiction and all the heartache that came with it certainly contributed, but I'll never tell him that. There are other factors as well. Now all I can do is forgive myself, Look to God and my family, pray, be healthy and think as positive as I can.
Much love.
Community Greeter
Join Date: Aug 2007
Location: Upstate New York
Posts: 51,507
Good to meet you, suez - thank you for your helpful honesty.
I have a dear friend who had a similar experience after surgery. She has 3 different doctors prescribing her pills - not sure how that can be. Sometimes she's almost normal, but most times she's on another planet. I'm glad you're determined to fight for your life.
I have a dear friend who had a similar experience after surgery. She has 3 different doctors prescribing her pills - not sure how that can be. Sometimes she's almost normal, but most times she's on another planet. I'm glad you're determined to fight for your life.
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