GoinThruMotions
Greenlighter
- Joined
- Apr 8, 2017
- Messages
- 3
I never knew, or just never thought about just how bad my addictive personality is. I started with the perc's, I was 15 and got them after my rhinoplasty. My mom had rationed then out to me at first, but after I got that warm and tingly feeling and realized it was from that pill, I took them and would just love the feeling. Then I started to buy for recreational use and so it began. One baggie of percs i bought had a little mushy blue pill, when I asked about it the guy said it's E and that one is free. I fell in love. I was never able to be a part of the rave scene, mostly because I didn't know anything about it. Most of my drug use wasn't introduced by another person, I'd either seek it out or someone I was doing drugstore with would show me "the correct way." Anyways, I did a lot of E by myself. I loved the feeling. I discovered masturbation, how to really feel music and I wanted to always be high. I stunted my self growth and thus I never had a friend base, didn't understand how so many kids in school could laugh and be happy just doing 'normal things' and what's crazy is everyone smoked weed. The one drug I hated. I didn't like the self control loss and paranoia it gave me. Everything else, I could still act sober with. I'm just realizing as I'm writing this that I've had to 'act' and lie to appear normal for the greater majority of my life.
I finally made some friends at the steakhouse I worked at around 17. That's when I discovered cocaine and began to do a lot of it. The only thing that mattered to me was being high and my image, well I guess that mentality never changed for me.
Anyway fast forward to early 20's I moved away, had a great time without doing drugs everyday (but recreationally of course and a lot of drinking), had friends, exercised, went to school, traveled, felt like I was able come to terms with and no longer linger on the self loathing I had always felt growing up and accept that I missed experiences that most have had. I worked full time while having a social life and going to school and then I graduated and became an RN.
Wow I didn't mean to make this a autobiography, I digress..
I worked on an busy oncology/med-surg floor and excelled. I absolutely loved my coworkers. I worked OT every week because I loved work. Occasionally I took an oxycodone for a 'patient' and shot the occasional dilaudid. But, I was still careful and covered my tracks.
It wasn't until I moved away for a relationship that things spiraled.
I easily got a job on another med-surg/onc floor and unlike my previous hospital the majority of patients were sickle cell anemic and were on dilaudid PCA pumps (not the newer ones that beep really loud when unlocked and opened) and thus I began diverting and even bringing a stash with me weekly for home use. This went on for a few months until I went in to my shift one night completely snowed and when I realized the charge called security to take my for an on the spot drug test, I refused and quit. I guess that was never reported to the board and I moved around to 2 other hospitals doing the same thing. The final hospital I worked at I wouldn't even try to cover my tracks with documenting the meds, (guess subconsciously I wanted to be caught?) I even told my girlfriend st the time what I was doing and I wanted to come forward to my boss and get help a few days before I was pulled aside with the dept that has been monitoring my med pulls and I cried and told them honestly what I was doing. I couldn't take advantage of the nurse diversion program (if you come clean and tell who you work for about your substance abuse, pending you didn't actually harm or kill a patient I imagine, you get help and keep your license with a year or so of random drug tests, no administering narcotics, you usually have a nurse 'babysitter' assigned to you for a period and then are able to move on.)
Before I could do that, I tested dirty and was fired. And the state requirement is for all hospitals to report nurse diversion to their board of nursing.
I realized I had a problem so I thought by removing myself from an area where narcotics are passed I'd be fine. For a few months I waited tables and bartended at a casual Italian restaurant. Then I began working for a practice where the hardest thing you would administer is a Benadryl. We don't even need to start iv's or do blood draws. Anyway I'm getting to my original point...
I was doing some pretty hard drinking, got arrested for hit and run (was drunk and rear ended a car at a red light, and drove away), spent an entire day in jail (not even holding, I had to go to the actual 'max' wear the orange and everything), until my sister and girlfriend picked me up. So anyway i kept drinking every night and was now blacking out on the regular. I cheated on my gf with a guy and my gf actually didn't want to leave me after all of that! But I pushed her away and broke her like I don't think she had ever been broken before. This has become my pattern with relationships.
Again back to the present, I was partying with the guy i cheated on her with almost every night. So I suspected he did blow and was secretive about it, why I didn't know, bc I was always down to party. But he finally told me he smoked crack sometimes.
One night he was going in and out of his room and so I went in and saw, I guess he thought I'd be mad or disgusted but instead i asked him if I could try. He really didn't want me to but I guess he felt like he had to if he was going to smoke. I took a hit, it was a good high, I probably smoked it "wrong" at first and wasted a lot of hits but I liked doing it. We would only smoke a little at a time at first, and still had great sex. I lived with my sister (fucked up that relationship too) and me and this guy would hang out at mine and my sister apt every night. And we would get high a lot and I began to build up a tolerance for the shit quick and didn't have a good technique for not wasting so he would be going in and out of the apt to get more from the block all night and usually till the sun came up. My sister got over that quick and we fought a lot and I didn't even realize how depressed she was and was trying to reach out for her sister but I wasn't able to sit still for a min and be a there for my sister, bc I was constantly wanting to get the next hit. She moved out and the guy moved in.
And finally we get to the point-this is my life right now. I still work at the doctors office as a nurse, somehow I manage to stay up all night or most of it and go in but I always like like shit and exhausted. I hired a lawyer and got the hit and run dropped to not reporting an accident and owe like 900 in court fees, I cannot afford my apt and have neglected every bill, an investigator from the nursing board has been trying to contact me (I haven't responded to any of her attempts to contact me-I have no idea what will happen with my nursing license), I haven't had sex in months, I've isolated myself from everyone, I don't leave my apt (unless it's to get drugs or go to work) and I hate myself for what I've done to my life. Yet I keep smoking! Crack!? Wtf. If someone told me this would be my life I would of thought they were smokin crack. So I'm at the point where I know this is it, I can't pay my rent, I look HORRIBLE. Im pasty White when I'm usually tanned, I have hairy legs bc the only time I shower (when I'm gross or have to look somewhat human for work) and it's always really quick bc I wanna take another hit. My mother has been calling me for days now and I've not picked up only texted that I will call later and don't. I pick at my skin constantly and I have marks from picking all over my body and it's disgusting. My lungs are probably fucking shot. I need help. I don't want to disappoint my mother anymore than I already have but it's either that or I'm going to kill myself with this life. I know she would be terrified and it will break her. So I am at a loss right now. I know I need inpatient and I know she would do whatever it takes to get me there if I ask for the help. So here I am. How do I tell her? (She doesn't live in this state and it will be a logistic and emotional nightmare to go back to the town I grow up in as a 30 year old failure). I am completely defeated. Anyone that can share their own experience or thoughts?
I finally made some friends at the steakhouse I worked at around 17. That's when I discovered cocaine and began to do a lot of it. The only thing that mattered to me was being high and my image, well I guess that mentality never changed for me.
Anyway fast forward to early 20's I moved away, had a great time without doing drugs everyday (but recreationally of course and a lot of drinking), had friends, exercised, went to school, traveled, felt like I was able come to terms with and no longer linger on the self loathing I had always felt growing up and accept that I missed experiences that most have had. I worked full time while having a social life and going to school and then I graduated and became an RN.
Wow I didn't mean to make this a autobiography, I digress..
I worked on an busy oncology/med-surg floor and excelled. I absolutely loved my coworkers. I worked OT every week because I loved work. Occasionally I took an oxycodone for a 'patient' and shot the occasional dilaudid. But, I was still careful and covered my tracks.
It wasn't until I moved away for a relationship that things spiraled.
I easily got a job on another med-surg/onc floor and unlike my previous hospital the majority of patients were sickle cell anemic and were on dilaudid PCA pumps (not the newer ones that beep really loud when unlocked and opened) and thus I began diverting and even bringing a stash with me weekly for home use. This went on for a few months until I went in to my shift one night completely snowed and when I realized the charge called security to take my for an on the spot drug test, I refused and quit. I guess that was never reported to the board and I moved around to 2 other hospitals doing the same thing. The final hospital I worked at I wouldn't even try to cover my tracks with documenting the meds, (guess subconsciously I wanted to be caught?) I even told my girlfriend st the time what I was doing and I wanted to come forward to my boss and get help a few days before I was pulled aside with the dept that has been monitoring my med pulls and I cried and told them honestly what I was doing. I couldn't take advantage of the nurse diversion program (if you come clean and tell who you work for about your substance abuse, pending you didn't actually harm or kill a patient I imagine, you get help and keep your license with a year or so of random drug tests, no administering narcotics, you usually have a nurse 'babysitter' assigned to you for a period and then are able to move on.)
Before I could do that, I tested dirty and was fired. And the state requirement is for all hospitals to report nurse diversion to their board of nursing.
I realized I had a problem so I thought by removing myself from an area where narcotics are passed I'd be fine. For a few months I waited tables and bartended at a casual Italian restaurant. Then I began working for a practice where the hardest thing you would administer is a Benadryl. We don't even need to start iv's or do blood draws. Anyway I'm getting to my original point...
I was doing some pretty hard drinking, got arrested for hit and run (was drunk and rear ended a car at a red light, and drove away), spent an entire day in jail (not even holding, I had to go to the actual 'max' wear the orange and everything), until my sister and girlfriend picked me up. So anyway i kept drinking every night and was now blacking out on the regular. I cheated on my gf with a guy and my gf actually didn't want to leave me after all of that! But I pushed her away and broke her like I don't think she had ever been broken before. This has become my pattern with relationships.
Again back to the present, I was partying with the guy i cheated on her with almost every night. So I suspected he did blow and was secretive about it, why I didn't know, bc I was always down to party. But he finally told me he smoked crack sometimes.
One night he was going in and out of his room and so I went in and saw, I guess he thought I'd be mad or disgusted but instead i asked him if I could try. He really didn't want me to but I guess he felt like he had to if he was going to smoke. I took a hit, it was a good high, I probably smoked it "wrong" at first and wasted a lot of hits but I liked doing it. We would only smoke a little at a time at first, and still had great sex. I lived with my sister (fucked up that relationship too) and me and this guy would hang out at mine and my sister apt every night. And we would get high a lot and I began to build up a tolerance for the shit quick and didn't have a good technique for not wasting so he would be going in and out of the apt to get more from the block all night and usually till the sun came up. My sister got over that quick and we fought a lot and I didn't even realize how depressed she was and was trying to reach out for her sister but I wasn't able to sit still for a min and be a there for my sister, bc I was constantly wanting to get the next hit. She moved out and the guy moved in.
And finally we get to the point-this is my life right now. I still work at the doctors office as a nurse, somehow I manage to stay up all night or most of it and go in but I always like like shit and exhausted. I hired a lawyer and got the hit and run dropped to not reporting an accident and owe like 900 in court fees, I cannot afford my apt and have neglected every bill, an investigator from the nursing board has been trying to contact me (I haven't responded to any of her attempts to contact me-I have no idea what will happen with my nursing license), I haven't had sex in months, I've isolated myself from everyone, I don't leave my apt (unless it's to get drugs or go to work) and I hate myself for what I've done to my life. Yet I keep smoking! Crack!? Wtf. If someone told me this would be my life I would of thought they were smokin crack. So I'm at the point where I know this is it, I can't pay my rent, I look HORRIBLE. Im pasty White when I'm usually tanned, I have hairy legs bc the only time I shower (when I'm gross or have to look somewhat human for work) and it's always really quick bc I wanna take another hit. My mother has been calling me for days now and I've not picked up only texted that I will call later and don't. I pick at my skin constantly and I have marks from picking all over my body and it's disgusting. My lungs are probably fucking shot. I need help. I don't want to disappoint my mother anymore than I already have but it's either that or I'm going to kill myself with this life. I know she would be terrified and it will break her. So I am at a loss right now. I know I need inpatient and I know she would do whatever it takes to get me there if I ask for the help. So here I am. How do I tell her? (She doesn't live in this state and it will be a logistic and emotional nightmare to go back to the town I grow up in as a 30 year old failure). I am completely defeated. Anyone that can share their own experience or thoughts?
