If I would have died will a needle in my arm,
What would you have told my mother,
Would the world embrace my death,
And carry on as if I did not matter.
There are so many times I should have died:
I overdosed twice and yet I live
I was kidnapped and held hostage, and yet I live
I had a johntry to murder me, yet I live
I was hit by a car crossing the street, yet I live
I tried to drown myself in the ocean, yet I live
I believe I have survived for a reason.
Some nights, I sneak into my kids' room. For some reason or another, they have all decided they want to sleep in the space that is not much larger than my last jail cell. I see their red cheeks and slightly sweaty faces. There is a piece of me in there. The best of me has been passed on to them. I see the innocence in their faces. I wonder was I like this? What was I like before the drugs, before the misery, before the mysteries that I unlocked with substances.
I could ramble on with a story about how I was molded into an addict. That would not be true to my story. That was a life I chose through a series of unfortunate decisions. I enjoyed my using for a few "good" years. I was thin for the first time in my life. I got attention. The drugs took away my desire for sex or love or friendship until I craved it intensely like a hot cinammon roll and a klonopin chaser. I felt as if I was in charge. I was free of society. i was free of restrictions. There was no one dictating my future. I held my destiny in the palm of my hand and knew exactly where to put it.
The freedom died when the habit crept in on me. I had a sad little story and tearful eyes. I was not free- I was completely dependant on this little thing to keep me happy. I was soooo smart I thought I could reason my way out of addiction. One night, under the street lamp. I was folding up all my belongings and carefully arrranging them in my shopping cart. I was living outside. I was a feral creature incapable of being trained without chemical treats. I told myself "one day, I am going to leave this all behind and go back to school". the thought was so absurd, I didn't even bother to say it outloud so the shadow people could laugh at me. And yet, I survived that night. And another, and another, and another until one day, that thought came true.
If you are enjoying getting high, I get that, I totally understand that but you may not be so lucky. I am one lucky woman. Be safe my friends. Be gentle with yourself. Make plans.
And if you survived that night and another and another, congrats to you my friend.
If I die tomorrow, my children will know my life is worth some thing. I am someone of merit. I love them and I love you all.