I’ll have something to say about Paul Ryan’s announcement that he wants to move something through the House to deal with the opioid epidemic, but first I need to do some research.
For now, read this:
Every day, we hear reports of addiction to heroin and other opiates — usually prescription pills — overtaking our communities. While this information is important, we also need to hear that addiction does not have to be a death sentence. For 11 years, I have been living in recovery from intravenous heroin use while in college.
How have I persevered after a substance-use disorder so crippling I left my parents’ home in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan, to live homeless on the freezing streets of Detroit? The trauma that ensued and the time spent time in jail, compounded my crippling shame. I appeared to be a lost cause. Yet, today, I am living a life that is abundant, exciting and filled with meaning. How is this possible?
People addicted to heroin can be restored.
Our bodies and minds heal as we transform into wholeness when we make the pursuit of recovery and wellness the most important thing in our lives. My family understood how uncomfortable I would be in almost every situation at the beginning of my recovery journey. Social situations were intensely awkward, as I learned to sense the triggers for spiraling thoughts and cravings — and how to cope with the myriad emotions and physical sensations running haywire throughout the day.
But, because my family and I were devoted to my recovery, I stabilized, and my moods, thoughts, and feelings achieved an equanimity I could manage. Then, remarkably, I found myself moving past milestones I thought would be permanently barred due to my prior addiction. Thanks to who I was becoming through recovery, obtaining an advanced degree and getting desired jobs were never hampered by my past.
We must beam messages of hope after addiction into the mainstream consciousness. These messages were not available when I was in the depths of addiction, so I mistakenly believed heroin addicts don’t get “better.” And, as a result, I stayed isolated in limbo, not wanting my family to suffer any longer because of me, yet seeing zero proof that the world would give me a chance at a wonderful life. The stigma of heroin — the negative portrayals of users as morally corrupt criminals who are unemployable and unlovable — fed into my hopeless state.
We need to change this archaic, false narrative. We need to remember those who are in the throes of their addiction and the family members who are tirelessly investing resources to keep them alive until they are able to give themselves a chance at life. We need to stop publishing articles with pictures of needles, spoons and brown liquid. No more Face-book posts or billboards showing arms tying off in preparation. These images do not deter use; in fact they instruct it — and they certainly don’t portray hope and encourage recovery. As a society, we need to send out messages that addiction can be overcome and spiraling addicted drug use can be a temporary state that, with help and commitment, can become a distant memory in the shadow of so much light in a life well-lived in recovery.
That’s from Ivana Grahovac, the executive director of Austin Recovery, and you can read the whole thing here.
