MY DRUG ADDICTION,
RECOVERY FROM ADDICTION
It was Sept. 1974. I was 22 years old. As I lay outside an operating room, I swore that if I survived this surgery, I would somehow have to find a way to escpe my abusive marriage. The past four years in this relationship turned me into a drug addicted prostitute, selling my body for drugs for my husband. I knew if I didnt get out then I would die.
The surgeon told me that I had so much internal damage done to me as a result of the ongoing abuse, that I had developed cancer. He had to do a hysterectomy. Laying in that hospital bed, I planned my escape.
The night I was released from hospital, my husband threw me down a flight of stairs, and left me laying in my pool of blood to die. My three year old daughter heard me fall, and waited until her father went to bed before she dialed emergency services and told them her mommy was dead. My next memory is of me being in hospital again, being questioned by police.
Prior to my husband's release from jail, I packed a small bag of clothing for my two babies, and I escaped.
I continued to use drugs on a daily basis. This was the only way I knew how to cope...how to survive. I somehow managed to get through the days somewhat coherent, but the moment my children were in bed for the night, I partied. I was still terrified to leave my home, and so I partied alone. Our court date arrived, and I stood in front of a Family Court Judge who heard evidence about the abuse, and granted me custody of my children. I moved often, from town to town, in attempts to escape those who hunted me down.
I moved from city to city, state to state, attempting to hide from my ex- husband and his friends...attempting to hide from myself as well. With each move, came new contacts, new drugs, new pain for myself.
Somehow, my children continued to excel in school, were very active in their communities, and were involved in sports. To the outside world, we were the perfect single-parent family. I had a good job as a Social Worker. My children wanted for nothing. Inside, I was dying. My Spirit was broken!
One evening a dear friend of mine showed up at my door unexpectedly. My children were asleep and I was in my room amongst all my paraphernalia, attempting to die.
My friend confronted me with my addiction, telling me she knew what she was talking about, because, she, too, was an addict. I yelled at her to get out of my home, telling her she was nuts! I honestly did not believe I was an addict!
The next morning (MARCH 14, 1983) she arrived at my door again, and told me we were going out for breakfast. Feeling somewhat guilty for the way I'd talked to her the night before, I agreed to have breakfast with her, hoping I could somehow convince her that she was wrong about me. Over breakfast, she shared her story with me. She told me she had managed to stay drug free with the help of many friends who also struggled with addiction. I looked at her like she was crazy, because this friend of mine certainly didn't look like a drug addict! She was well loved by all who knew her. She was calm, pleasant, funny...EVERYONE loved her! She told me she would pick me up later that night and bring me to a meeting so I could meet her friends.
I agreed only because I was so uncomfortable sitting there with her, and I needed to get to work.
That evening, true to her word, she arrived at my door, and told me she was there to bring me to the meeting. I made all kinds of attempts to get out of it, but she would not take no for an answer. Within the hour, I found myself sitting in my first NA meeting. I HATED IT!
I couldn't for the life of me understand that I had a disease called addiction, and all that that entailed. I was the only First Nations person there, and felt extremely isolated. I hated all the "God" stuff! All these people seemed to smoke cigarettes and drink coffee...two habits I did not have. (LOL because now I smoke and drink coffee!) I was very critical, very suspicious. They kept telling me to keep coming back. And I did.
At that time, it was illegal for two addicts to be in the same company...some Rockefeller law or something. We were forced to have our meetings in each other's homes. As time went on, a few churches and the Salvation Army opened their doors to us late at night so we could hold our meetings. Eventually the law was changed and we were able to legally meet as recovering addicts. Much has changed since then. NA has gained the respect of the law, the courts, etc. We have been bringing meetings into jails and prisons for many, many years.
"When at the end of the road we find that we can no longer function as a human being, either with or without drugs, we all face the same dilemma. What is there left to do? There seems to be this alternative: either go on as best we can to the bitter ends---jails, institutions or death; or find a new way to live. In years gone by, very few addicts ever had this last choice. Those who are addicted today are more fortunate. For the first time in man's entire history, a simple way has been proving itself in the lives of many addicts. It is available to us all. This is a simple spiritual---not religious---program, known as Narcotics Anonymous."
- NA Basic Text, page 81, 3rd edition.
During my first year of recovery, I rarely spoke to anyone, arriving at the meetings just before they began, and leaving immediately afterwards. I did not follow any of the suggestions which were so freely offered to me. I did not have a Sponsor, I did not work the 12 Steps or Traditions into my life, and I was not recovering...I was simply drug free! Then, on March 14, 1984, exactly a year after I attended my first NA meeting, I went home and hung myself.
I woke up in intensive care with my friend who had dragged me off to my first meetings, standing over my bed. She was really angry with me, and asked me why I didn't have a Sponsor. I told her that I didn't NEED a Sponsor..that I could not relate to the others in the rooms. I told her I was different than them. She looked me straight in the eye, and said, "Yes, sister! you ARE different than all of us because NONE of us are laying here in intensive care with rope burns on our necks!" She then told me she was going to be my "temporary Sponsor" until I found someone else. She told me my first assignment was to find myself a Higher Power, because I was obviously not the almighty I believed I was!
Talk about the fear of God! THAT woman scared the heck out of me because I knew she was right.
About a month later, I decided it was time to go and make amends to the people I had worked with at an alcohol treatment centre while I was using. ( I was still not willing to work the Steps in the order in which they are written) As I was driving along the highway, I was reflecting on my childhood, being raised with nuns, etc. I remembered all the stories of miracles, of the saints, etc. and suddenly I said to no one in particular, "OK ..well, if there REALLY is a god, give me some kind of sign!"
Within seconds I was slamming on my brakes because a trailer full of potatoes in front of me had tipped over! I got out of my car and began helping the farmer pick the potatoes up off the highway. He was very greatful and told me to take as many as I wanted home with me.
I just laughed and said I would take only one potato if that was okay with him.
As soon as I got back home, I phoned my "temporary Sponsor" and told her I had a Higher Power. She was so excited and asked me to come right over to her house and tell her all about it. When I told her my story and showed her my potato, she just smiled and asked me if it had a name. I looked at the potato and said, "yeah, Spud". Again, she just smiled and gave me a big hug ( I still hated hugs then! ) and said,"that's fantastic! Spud....Special Protection Under Direction!"
This was the beginning of my recovery process.
Much has happened since that time. I soon learned that recovery from addiction does not mean that bad things don't happen to good people. It doesn't mean that we never feel any pain, that everyone will love us. It simply means that if we work this programme, we will be given the freedom from the disease of addiction. Our lives WILL get better. We will learn how to deal with life on life's terms. And so, I began diligently working the 12 Steps and Traditions into my daily life.
When I was 2 1/2 years clean, I was doing a ninth step, and it was time to make amends to the law. I knew this might mean a prison sentence. And I also knew I had to be willing to go to ANY lengths to recover.
Five years earlier, I had been charged with child abduction. I had been living underground all this time. No one...not even my Sponsor knew this until I worked this Step. But...I knew in order to continue to recover, I had to be willing to be honest, open minded and willing to face whatever life had to offer.
And so, I surrendered to police, went to jail, and awaited trial. I was found guilty on five felony charges and faced up to 50 years in prison. After hearing all the evidence, the Judge overturned the verdicts and I was set free!
I was able to get through that difficult time with the love and support of my new found family in Narcotics Anonymous, as well as the thousands of supporters world wide, as this was a precedent setting case.
As time went by, I began really looking at who I am. I began walking the Red Road. I got involved in my First Nations community, I began giving back what was so freely given to me. Instead of being in prison, I brought recovery meetings and support to people inside prison. My Spirit was healed!
Then, during the summer of 1990, the situation at Oka took place. I knew I HAD to offer my Mohawk Sisters and Brothers support. I had to do whatever little I could do to help prevent a golf course being built on Sacred Burial Grounds. It was during this time that I was raped and stabbed because of my involvement. During the attack on me, I begged the Creator to let me die. I went home and scrubbed myself with steel wool, trying to get the filth off me. I called my Sponsor. I went to a meeting and shared about it. I allowed my friends to circle me with love. USING SIMPLY WAS NOT AN OPTION!
Eight months later I sat across from a doctor who told me I was HIV+. Again, my Spirit was broken. For the first time in my entire life, I believe I REALLY knew what powerlessness was all about. There was NOTHING anyone could do to take this away. And so, I did the only thing I knew how to do about it....I prayed. And...as time went by, I realized I'd come to a place of acceptance. It wasn't until the doctor told me that I would die, that I truly began to live!
Today I am an AIDS Educator. I have been honoured to bring HIV/AIDS Prevention Workshops into many First Nations communities across the country. I was one of Canada's delegates to attend an International AIDS conference in Acapulco, Mexico in 1993, where I presented a workshop entitled, "AIDS In North America". I publish a newsletter called "Anishnawbe Kwe Healing Circle" for, and about First Nations women living with HIV/AIDS.
I have survived bilateral mastectomies in recovery.
I'm honoured to have been able to offer support to my sisters and brothers in prison, in recovery.
I have been blessed with three beautiful Grandchildren in recovery.
Because I have AIDS, the Adoption Disclosure Registery did a Compassionate Release, and I was able to be reunited with my sister who had been placed for adoption over 35 years ago. I've had to let go of my biological family because their sickness was getting me sick. They cannot accept me as I am today. This is not my problem. I now have a wonderful extended family.
UPDATE AUGUST 23, 2006
Last summer I spent some time in Casey House Hospice. I have been in much better shape this year as a result of this amazing care I received while an in patient. My nurse visit me regularly in my home now.
In June I saw my mother's obituary online. It stated that my eldest sister had passed away as well. NOONE in my family bothered to tell me that Deb had passed away, nor that my mother had. Mom's funeral was to be held less than 2 hours after I saw it, ... out of town. I guess my family members preferred I not attend.
I have learned how to love again, how to trust again, how to be me.
Soon after I was diagnosed with AIDS I had a vision. In it, the Creator came to me and said, "I can take this thing called AIDS away from you." Knowing there would be a price to pay for such a gift, I asked what it would cost me. I was told that I would no longer have AIDS if I were willing to give up all this new found freedom and love of life that I have been given. In my vision, I said "NO THANK YOU". And I have no regrets!
TODAY MY SPIRIT IS HEALED!
Thanks for letting me share.
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