Author: christin

Posted: Fri Jul 26, 2013 7:19 am

Thank you to everyone for replying. When I read so many suggestions and the stories that you’ve been willing to share, I feel bad for posting. Why am I so unwilling to take advice? Why do I seem to have an excuse for why those things that have worked for others just won’t work for me?

I’m not young. I’m a mother of three adult children (early to mid twenties), a wife, and a grandmother to two beautiful grandchildren 3 and 2. I didn’t start using opiates until my youngest child was a senior in high school. Honestly, I thought that I’d find myself divorced at this point in my life. But, it hasn’t worked out that way. My husband is now working (sometimes more, sometimes less) on his issues. I feel that I owe our marriage my loyalty as long as he’s trying to work on the things that made my marriage miserable for twenty years.

My husband doesn’t mind me drinking or using opiates, actually. That’s because my use has never had a negative impact on my family. My husband’s concern is that I’ll OD and he won’t know how to save me. The only thing that has been negatively impacted by my addiction is my conscience. I lie to doctors and I steel medication from my father by requesting refills that he doesn’t use. Before the opiates, I was hard-pressed to tell a lie.

My dad found out this past month that I relapsed. That certainly was a negative consequence. Even at my age, I want to make my father proud of me. As you can imagine, stealing his medication is not the best way to go about that. He was kind and loving, which only made me more mortified and disgusted with myself.

I don’t know if it’s where I live or if it’s me (gonna guess me). I’ve been to several counselors in my lifetime. None ever seem to help. One of my last counselors (4-5 years ago for my addiction), fell asleep mid-sentence , that’s when she was speaking. I never scheduled another appointment. I did find another counselor about a year later. But, he was an addict himself and so steeped in NA that’s all that he regurgitated during our session. I kept thinking, I can get this for $1 at a meeting. Why am I coming here?

A few years ago, I heard a rumor that a Suboxone support group was forming in the area. When I inquired, I was told that it would be only for those patients affiliated with the local rehab. It was their Sub doctor who was having the group started. I don’t want to go to inpatient, which seems to be the only way to get the "good" stuff.

My first Sub doctor had me induct in my car in the parking lot to my work. It was a Friday and he was supposed to be available all weekend for me. I called and called him because I was so sick. He called me back on Monday, when he had returned from his ski trip. "Oh, that happens to some people," he told me. At one visit, he took a phone call and began berating another patient who had missed an appointment. He told him, "Your appointment was 30 minutes ago. Get down here and bring your money." He was a cash-only business and the only "addiction therapy" that he offered was to monitor how many 12-step meetings I was attending.

So, I started knocking on the door of another local Sub doctor. He accepted insurance (that was a huge relief), until I found out that he’d accept my insurance even when he couldn’t keep our appointments (which was for a 9-month stretch). During that time, I went to his office to pick up my pre-written script. A week later, I would see that my insurance had paid him (a reduced rate. But, $75 to pick up a prescription???)

It seems that I look and only find bad. Yet, I have to ask myself, "What’s the common denominator in all of this?" Of course, the answer is, "Me."

So, I don’t have a lot of confidence in counseling or in the field of psychiatry (oh… I didn’t tell you that when I was 17, I was diagnosed as schizophrenic, that is until I told the shrink that I didn’t have insurance and would have to pay his bill in small payments. Amazingly, he found me "cured" at that visit. I need to add that I’m obviously NOT schizophrenic. Schizophrenia is a progressive disease. I would not be a functioning adult if the diagnosis had been correct).

Argghhhh…. See what I mean about being full of excuses???