We do recover by Kristen Hughes (Guest Blogger)

Hi! My name is Kristen and I am an addict.

I grew up in a small town in a small state. I had two parents who loved me and are still married to each other today. I had two brothers who teased the crap out of me – but were ready to fight if someone made me cry. I had everything you could imagine. We lived in a nice house. I went to church. I was a majorette. I studied ballet, tap, and jazz. I was in all of the community plays and at any moment, you could find me breaking out into a song or dance. I was on the honor roll every year in school. I had a lot of friends. I was THAT kid.

I don’t remember the first time I took a drink. All I know is that I was young. It was innocent – sips of my mom’s wine coolers, another sip of beer here or there. I liked the taste and I knew I wanted more. I can’t tell you when it started, but the binge drinking was in full effect once I hit my senior year in high school. I was a party girl. I liked to have fun. I loved being the center of attention and I would get drunk until I would pass out. I don’t remember anyone ever telling me that my drinking was too much. Maybe they did and I just didn’t listen. Because all I knew was that when I was drunk, I made people laugh. I was free.

I graduated high school and went off to a local university. Nothing changed when I went away, except the drinking was more accessible and more excessive. Soon enough, drugs entered the picture. It started with weed and cocaine, along with the drinking. Again – not once do I remember anyone showing concern for what I was doing. I am still wondering how I hid it so well. Looking back, my life was spiraling, but I never stopped.

Somehow, through it all, I managed to graduate and get a job. A great job. Doing what I absolutely love. I still drank and used drugs on weekends, and I’d have a crazy weeknight binge every so often. I was living a double life. I had a group of friends that knew nothing of my drug use. And I had a group of friends that only knew me as the party girl. I was able to maintain that lifestyle for a while. Yes, I had periods where I would get out of control – but always managed to get back on track - until I found heroin.

You see, I was tired of cocaine. I didn’t like the way it made me feel. I hated the paranoia, and the “upper” effect. I wanted something different, and heroin was my answer. I was 26 the first time I used heroin. Twenty six. I was a college grad. I had my own apartment. I had a great career. I had family that loved me. Friends who cared about me. I knew better – right? That’s where addiction gets you. You think it’s harmless. A few nights here and there quickly turned into a dependence like I had never experienced. When I couldn’t score I found myself sick. More sick than I had ever been. An ache so deep within my bones. I had no idea what was happening to me. My boyfriend at the time was the one who told me I was in withdrawal. All I knew was that I needed one more. I needed to get right. That was the end of my freedom as I knew it. I became a slave to the drug.

I could go into the graphic details of my drug use. I could tell you all the horrible things I did and the horrible places I went. I could explain to you how I lied, stole, and degraded myself in every way possible just to get “one more.”  I could tell you how my father found me unresponsive in a pool of blood and vomit with a needle still in my arm. I could tell you how I was in a coma, and how at the age of 27 I had to get a pacemaker because my heart suffered so much. I can tell you that even after going away to treatment, I used again. And continued to use. And every day I was killing myself.

I knew I was dying. I knew I had to get clean. But using drugs goes beyond the physical addiction. It’s a mental hold on you that is so strong. I reached out one last time for help. I called my mom. I told her I wanted to go to detox. I told her to pick me up in three hours because I had to get high one more time. Just once more. I went to detox in August of 2007. That decision saved my life. Like I said earlier, I knew I was dying, I just didn’t know how serious my condition was. The pacemaker they put in after my overdose had become infected from continued drug use, and it was - quite literally - killing me. Had I not made the decision to go to detox when I did, my doctor said I would have died.

I stayed clean for a little while. I started attending a 12 step fellowship. Life started getting good again. My family slowly trusted me. I started to find friends who shared the same recovery goals that I had. I survived the most deadly part of my addiction. But even through all of that, I used again.

My clean date is February 25, 2008. I just celebrated 10 years of recovery.

Here is where I hope you listen, and listen closely. Once you put a drug in you – it’s Russian Roulette. No one is exempt. No one. No one knows at what point they will become an addict. The reality is, I have always been an addict. It wasn’t until it manifested itself in the form of drugs that I realized it. And I am grateful. The disease of addiction has many faces. My disease has manifested itself in the form of drugs, shopping, eating, sex, gambling, exercise, lying, fantasy, and the list goes on.

But I have hope today. Today I am a daughter. I am a sister. I am a wife. I am a mother. I am an aunt. I am a teacher. I am a friend. And I am an addict.

Thanks for letting me share.

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This blog post was curated and/or edited by The Ardent Reader, Esther Hofknecht Curtis, BSOL, MSM-HCA. The views expressed in this blog post are those of the guest blogger. Visit www.parrotcontent.com for more information.