Confessions of a recovered drug addict

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The writer chose to remain anonymous

 

 

“If only you knew what I had gone through, you’d know why”…

A common excuse for a drug addict is his, or her, circumstances. As drug addicts, we believe that what we’ve gone through justifies our tendency to resort to “quick fixes” like drugs, and with such we keep on lingering to our habits while becoming prisoners of addiction. We ignore the conceptions of the people around us, barging into our private affairs and giving opinions about what’s best for us. As if they know what’s best for us.

Wrong!

A writer needs an inspiration to come up with something to write about. To write a testimonial, it takes a certain level of courage and reminiscing to come up with a few words that reflect the entire scenario. For me, the inspiration came with the death of a friend a few days ago. Ali, a close friend of mine and an inspiration for most, with respect to his impeccable academic standing, succumbed to cardiac arrest after overdosing on heroin. It wasn’t surprising though – the way he had become more aggressive to heroin use, it was bound to happen. But the following day after his death, when I went to offer my condolences to the grieving family, I met with one of his brothers, whose words shook me up.

“I knew it, I knew it from the start. I should’ve stopped him… I should’ve done something”.

I wanted to write this sooner – a testimonial of a recovered heroin addict – but I wasn’t ready enough. I guess it was the grief of losing my friend and the anger over the loss of hope of recovery that convinced me that people deserve to know the whole story.

I could spend hours quoting tales of my dread past, and I still wouldn’t be able to portray the complete picture. If I’d get had a penny for every wrongdoing during my heroin days, I’d make a fortune. I’m not fond of reminiscing over my past, but if that’s what it takes to inspire someone – even if it’s one person in the whole world – and save a life. The success story begins in the same manner as that for many drug addicts – how I left home to pursue further studies in Islamabad; how I made a new friend while studying there; how we became close; how he tried to analyse whether he could exploit me; how one day he’d sneak heroin in a normal cigarette without my knowledge; how he’d trick me into smoking the heroin cigarette; “It’s just one time. What bad could happen?”; how I’d be unaware of what drug I was smoking and how potentially dangerous it is; how much I’d be shocked when it’d suppress my abdomen pain (I should mention that I was, and still am, suffering from a rare gastrointestinal illness with many side effects, including a consistent localised pain in my lower abdomen, till date, and believe me, it’s not fun being born with such a disease); how I’d thank the Gods for finally giving me a cure to my disease; how we’d look at each other with sheer satisfaction; how it would not be my “first and my last”, at least for another six months; how I’d learn more about ways to consume heroin myself; how he’d introduce me to the heroin circle; how even after learning about how dangerous heroin is and how 95pc of all heroin addicts would resort back to the drug owing to the withdrawal and craving, I would’ve become too reliant to the drug for healing my pain that I wouldn’t care less about how much potent it is; and how things would start going downhill for me since then.

Heroin welcomed me with its open arms, and I couldn’t have been more in bliss.

Truth is, at that point in time, I didn’t even want to think about quitting it. I had become an addict. A heroin addict, to be more specific.

I’m not proud of labelling myself as an addict, lest a heroin addict, but it’s the bitter guilt I’ll carry on with me my entire life.

I was not one of your conventional addicts. The fact is, people deem “drug addicts” as depressed or emotionally challenged. I was neither. I had a very happy childhood, and a very thriving life. We seldom realise that there will always be one point in your life when you’d find happiness, and for me it was my childhood. People tend to resort to drug addiction owing to a painful childhood, without considering the chances that they’ll find their happiness in their own way some time along the way.

Honestly, it’s not your fault. It’s never our fault. Drugs have their way of altering your brain pattern, thereby making you do things you initially intended to avoid. The ‘high’ is something your body is alien to, and when it interacts with your body, it becomes a “new hobby”.

“Using heroin didn’t rid my mind of pain, depression (if any), anger, and emotional pain—it had only suppressed those feelings”

The most important retrospective from my entire experience was that, despite getting the immediate escape to all my problems, it wasn’t the quick fix; rather, it inhibited my senses enough for me to overlook the fact that things were turning more awry than before.

It took me time to realise this, but I came to a very conclusive question that would eventually become my motto:

“Why force happiness on yourself?”

Why should we forego the opportunity to explore the world with a sane mind, and find something that makes us feel content? Why do we let all our existing problems shape the way we live our lives?

We crave the immediate feeling of euphoria that we get, but we seldom realise the opportunity cost. We force happiness on ourselves, while foregoing the happiness of those around us – the parents that raised us to be better adults, the friends that grow on us as siblings, the people in our lives who expected better things for us, etc.

We forget to live. We forget to explore. We forget to be inquisitive about the long-lasting happiness. We ignore the people and exhibit bigotry if someone tells us otherwise. Any why should we listen them, it’s not like they know what we’ve gone through?

Fact is, they unequivocally know our pain and burden better than us, they’ve experienced it themselves at some point in time, and they chose not to let it govern their lives. We challenge the perceptions of people based on their ignorance of our sad dwellings, while we seldom realise that they have all faced with the same problems as ours, and they chose not to rely on “temporary euphoria” to obtain a quick fix.

Hashish, weed, cocaine, synthetic drugs, heroin – they’re all the same in the manner that they ruin our lives. I’ve had people say “you’ve never even tried hashish before, how come you’re the one advising us?”, and they ignore the fact that I’ve dealt with the most dangerous and addictive drug in the entire world, and I chose to become that rare survivor all on my own. People don’t overcome drug addiction in a day; or maybe they can, but it takes the right amount of willpower to face the consequences of withdrawal and cravings. I didn’t know I had that much willpower until the day I decided to call it quits forever.

“Of course, rehab can help me out”

It doesn’t. It’s the people in our lives that help us get through. No medication or therapy can solve problems; it’s that sheer willpower fuelled by the love and support of the people who chant “we love you, and we believe in you” every time you make a bold step.

As people inbuilt with an inquisitive mind, we tend to judge people more rather than help them out. We highlight on the negative aspects of something without giving heed to the positive parts. We misuse the “right to judge” and the “right to freedom of speech” just to express our opinions on subjective matters without knowing the full picture. No one can blame us, we’re mere humans.

If we know people who’re dealing with drug addiction of any sort, we should be more proactive to the matter in a positive way, instead of relying on mere criticism. Even though we pretend that we know their lives, we still can’t comprehend as to what keeps the addiction intact. As humans – not even as mere Pakistanis – it is our duty to take responsibility for the people that we care about, because we all have a “conscience” within.

“Bad company breeds bad habits”

The statement is true, to an extent that is. After all, most cases of initial interaction with drugs are a result of peer pressure. We often blame the friends that make us do such stuff, but we seldom blame our own curiosity and the nature of the drug that makes us drug addicts, and others ‘bad people’.

We’re our own mentor, our own judge, our own guide. We have an inquisitiveness that makes us try something unconventional and new. If only institutions had focused more on spreading awareness and knowledge about drugs, we would’ve even had the courage to say “no”, but we didn’t. Pakistan, you see, lacks the initiatives necessary to raise awareness among the youth during their learning period, and then we stand dumbfounded when offered drugs for the first time. If only I had taken an interest in learning about why grown-ups are fond of saying “Drugs are bad for you”, or if only my Alma mater had introduced “Drug Awareness Seminars” for us, this entire scenario could’ve been different.

They are ‘bad company’, but they’re such only because of the way the drug interacts with the body, not because “they were born to be a bad influence”

“Drugs have changed me forever”

That is true, to an extent. The only beauty of drugs, however, is that once you counter the addiction and call it quits, you can turn back normal. There are things that would change for you – for me, it was the fact that I became more introverted than before, enjoying every moment of solitude that I can find; I have the emotional quotient of a woman with PMS; and I lost my sense of joy in even the simplest things of life.

Happiness doesn’t choose to come by whenever you want it to. Like everything else, you need to earn the conditions necessary for happiness. I’ve chosen to walk down this path, and so can you.

Every life matters, and that’s why I retract my original statement – the real inspiration to write was to help inspire people to call it quits for good. It’s never too late, even if you’ve been an addict for years.