- Drugs
- Friends & Family
Greetings to all of man or woman kind alike,
Addiction has touched each and every one of us in some way shape or form. Whether it is a long lost uncle, first cousin, mother or child, I am sure that statistics will say that we have all been familiarized with the word, throughout our life time. This is my story.
I come from a wonder family, a mother and father that are still together to this day and a younger sister with whom I have a 9 year age gap. I grew up in a suburb of the San Francisco Bay Area, in the 70’s. I didn’t have any major childhood trauma; I never experienced any unnecessary grief. I had wonderful parents that definitely taught me the difference between right and wrong. I never wanted for anything. Although we were not rich, I lived a life that was secure and strong.
Upon graduating from high school, I worked odd jobs and did the young woman thing until the age of 23 when I decided I wanted to go to dental hygiene school. I aced the courses and took my state boards, quickly obtaining my license to practice in California. I got a full time job immediately with a local periodontist and began to excel. Soon after, I purchased my first new car and moved into my first apartment in a town next to the town I grew up in and close to my mom and dad.
About two years into my new found career, we had a Memorial Day three day weekend. I went skiing with my friend Tara’s new competition ski boat. I had a nasty fall midway through the day and as the day progressed, I could feel my back tightening up. By the time we got back to the docks to call it a day as the sun was setting, I had to have someone lift me out of the boat and onto land. I was in so much pain after the 30 minute drive home. I took two Motrin and a hot shower to loosen the muscles up and went to bed. Approximately half way through the night, I awoke with such painful spasms the only way I could get any rest was if I sat in the upright position, so that was where I spent the remainder of the night.
The next morning I got up, as excruciating as it was, walked to the telephone and called Kathy (the dentist’s wife and our office manager) and said there was no way on earth I would make it in to see my patients for the day. I had to go to my doctor. Kathy said to me, “Carie, we need you. Come on in and the doctor (my boss, the dentist) will look at you and take care of you.” Upon my arrival, I was greeted by my boss the dentist who gave me two Vicodin that the DDS supplied in a cabinet in his business office. Within 40 minutes, my back pain disappeared and I was flying around TCB like I was Superwoman. I felt invincible.
Thus the story really begins. I don’t want to glorify my years of usage. Let’s just say it was that day that my years of having chains around my neck began. I lost everything; I had so many bottoms. I lost my license to practice, I lost my car, and I lost my apartment. I began breaking the law. I spent every penny I made on my drug of choice. These were the years I first saw the inside of a county jail also.
I had bouts of sobriety, but nothing substantial. It was usually after being court ordered to a rehab, were I was “faking it all”. I absolutely destroyed my relationships with all my loved ones. No one could trust me. I was the best liar… or so I thought. Until I forgot what lie I told and had to dance in circles to fool the people I needed to lie to. Everyone saw right through me.
It was one of those many (I think there were 11) rehabs that I met my soon-to-be children’s father. This was in 1999. This relationship killed my spirit. It lasted about 12 years. We lived together and “loved each other.” We were soul-mates. His drug of choice was everything, and my drug of choice was still Vicodin.
At this point in my addiction, I was taking up to 30-100 daily. Everyone thinks that is enough to kill an elephant three times over, but my tolerance was that high. The relationship became very abusive. It started with emotional abuse and quickly became physical. I became pregnant with twins in 2004. And I was on the run from probation, still using. I could not stop. I had to take pills to be normal and “not sick”. I finally had my babies in May of 2005 and that is when I first really started to want for something better.
It was still a while before I finally got “it”. At this point I was still hitting bottoms and was completely lost. I wanted it but just didn’t know how to get “it”. In February of 2011, I was sentenced to three years in the state penitentiary for prescription fraud. I was forced to sign over my precious twins to temporary guardians (my mother-in-law and father-in-law). My family had long since shut the door on me until I started to change my life. In the state of California, you are to serve one half of your sentence if it involved in a non-violent crime. I was facing a year and a half away from everyone and everything I knew to be familiar and I thought I would die. The worst part was that I had to be away from my babies.
This was not my first rodeo at the big league; it was actually my third term. I was becoming a familiar face to long termers, lifers and guards. As I sat in my small cell on “A” yard at Chowchilla, I found myself crying and draining every single bit of pain out of my body. During the entire span of my addiction, I can honestly say that not once did I want to end my life, but feeling this hopeless in prison I wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. I cannot explain it, but one morning I woke and went to chow and began talking to some woman that I always saw exercising vigorously on the yard. They were trying to get to fire camp. A place I never thought I could physically go. The more and more I heard about it, the more my determination began to rise and with that, so did my hope. It was a little glimmer, so tiny.
I made it to fire camp, Malibu CC#13. I became a wildland firefighter and I did it with ease. During my training and the summer I spent fighting wild fires, I regained something so important that I lost over the years: my self-worth and self-esteem. I was doing something that people were grateful for. I was really worth something. The women at camp were all very focused and strong women. Many of them I still keep in contact with. Not many that make it to camp return to prison or the life they had before.
Because I went to fire camp, I was able to earn a lot of time off my sentence and got back to my children faster. I hit the gate ready to set the world on fire. I came out with an agenda and goals.
I walked through those gates and never looked back. I joined a support group. I got a sponsor, I worked the steps. I set goals for myself and met every single one of those goals. I got my children back, I left the kids low-life father who is still using to this day. I started my own small company and my family welcomes me into their lives and most importantly, they trust me again.
Life has not been easy. In fact I have had some pretty rough and tough times. I still have days that I do not want to get out of bed and face what comes at me. The difference today is that I have a different mentality and I have tools.
I am now a strong, independent, single mamma that people perceive as a “fighter”. My world is my kids. When I look back I have the memories that keep me from picking up. I would say the most important thing that I have is my perception of myself that translates into self-worth and self-esteem. Heck, if I can stand toe to toe with serial killers (which I have) I can continue to accept life on life’s terms without being an active addict.