Bruised Fruit - Hiding the Truth - 5 September 2024

Brief Correction: My first column said I died on Sunday, July 29. This was a mistake. I died on Sunday, July 28.

As of the writing of this article on Wednesday, September 4, I have 38 days clean.

Since I've gotten clean, I've attended a couple of Narcotics Anonymous meetings and reached out to Mountaintop Cares Coalition to get connected with a Certified Recovery Peer Advocate (CRPA). For those who don't know, a CRPA is a non-clinical professional who provides support to people in recovery from substance use disorders (SUDs). CRPAs use their personal experience with SUDs and professional training to help people in recovery in a variety of ways, including:

• Developing recovery plans

• Learning coping habits

• Developing life skills

• Facilitating outreach

• Increasing engagement in treatment

• Connecting patients to community-based recovery supports

CRPAs are usually people in recovery themselves or family members or friends of someone in recovery. They are supervised by a licensed or credentialed clinical staff member in an OASAS-approved program or other approved setting. CRPAs are Medicaid reimbursable.

About a year and a half ago, I was connected with a CRPA who really helped me. I had been relapsing repeatedly and didn't know where to turn. A friend connected me with A (keeping it anonymous), who helped me immensely. Although it didn't last, and I relapsed several times, the experience left a good impression on me, which is why I am looking to reconnect with one.

Asking for help takes humility, especially for someone in active addiction. It's not an easy thing to admit to yourself that you are powerless when it comes to substances. It took me many years to finally acknowledge this fact, and it's incredibly humbling. And I'll tell you, it's not easy telling everyone what kind of person I used to be and who I am today.

A person with an addiction will not stop using until they are ready to. It doesn't matter how many detoxes and rehabs they've been to or how many court-ordered drug programs they are forced to attend. It doesn't matter if loved ones are begging them to stop. It doesn't matter if they lose everything just for the next hit. For me, turning blue and dying did the trick.

I am in early recovery, and the chances of me relapsing are high. However, this time feels different. There are many who know me who are hoping for the best for me but are betting against me. I typically thrive under pressure. Part of the reason for writing this column was to hold myself accountable for all the awful things I did and face it head-on by taking responsibility for all the damage I caused. My bad decisions, lies, half-truths, manipulation, and secretive behavior led me to this moment.

I lost everything because I couldn't stop using. I lost a relationship, I lost a career in Albany I held for nearly 10 years. I got arrested. I lost the trust of everyone I know. I lost my dignity. I lost hope. I lost my identity. And still, I didn't stop using drugs. During the process of destroying my life, the only thing that helped was more drugs because drugs help you forget. They trick your mind into thinking everything will be okay. And everything was not okay.

It's going to take years to gain the trust of everyone I know and my family—I hurt my family the most. I was always sort of the black sheep of my family, and as my addiction grew over the decades, the 'Black Sheep' title became more accurate.

When I am clean, I feel amazing. I cover the community I grew up in and love. I am lucky enough to have a platform to express myself and tell other people's stories (and mine). I feel a connection to the mountaintop that I love. However, when I relapse, none of that matters anymore. I seclude myself in my own delusions and lock myself away from all that I love.

Narcotics Anonymous recommends calling someone if you have a desire to use. I've never done that. Why would I? My brain is hyper-focused on drugs, and I temporarily forget everything I've learned and lost. That's the thing with addicts. I romanticize the ritual of using and tend only to remember the 'good' times, blocking out all of the bad repercussions. Addiction is a progressive disease, which means each time you use, the consequences get worse and worse. I never knew this until I was way past being a functional addict. I held a good job being a functional addict until I couldn't control it anymore. I started losing all that mattered to me. And still, I couldn't (some say wouldn't) stop using. I thought I was in control.

Just over a month ago, it got so bad that I was penniless, owed two months of back rent, and had nowhere to go. Some members of my family wouldn't help, choosing instead to sit back and watch me drown. And some family members helped me—for which I am eternally grateful. Some call the "sit back and watch a family member kill himself" tough love, but I call it cruel. I called the Greene County Department of Social Services and asked them my options. They told me I could "present myself to DSS as homeless." If that's not rock bottom, combined with briefly dying, I don't know what is.

There is help available if you have the guts to ask. I've been to a couple of rehabs; the last one was at Saint Mary's in Troy, where I stayed for just 23 days. It was December 22 when I got out, and I felt great after being clean for over three weeks. I thought I was ready. I was wrong. I relapsed the day I got out. I still thought I could control my addiction. I couldn't have been more wrong.

When I use drugs, I lie. When I'm clean, I am as honest as you can be. It's pretty remarkable. A friend of mine was concerned that I wasn't doing the 'work' to stay sober. I agreed. A person with an addiction can always find an excuse not to go to a meeting, get a sponsor, or speak to a CRPA. After speaking to my friend, I contacted MCC to connect with a CRPA. If I can drive four hours for a bundle of fentanyl, I can take two or three hours out of my day and dedicate it to a meeting or a chat with someone who has years of sobriety. The mind truly is a powerful thing.

I genuinely hope this column helps others in active addiction or those who have an addict in their family. My goal is not to be malicious to those I love. I have created my life, which has come at a heavy cost to me and those I care about most. All I can say to my family, friends, and others: I am sorry. I am so god damn sorry. I hope my future actions show you I have changed. Please forgive me.