It all began in 1983 I just had my second child, a son we named Joseph Robert. Vanessa was four years old and our marriage was going into its fifth year. I was happy. Our family was complete. Who could ask for more? Little did I know that something called morphine would put an end to all this happiness.

My husband was always a good provider, so I never had any reason to believe that anything was wrong, or who knows maybe I just didn't want to. As the baby started to begin crawling, it was going into winter, and Christmas that year was great! I don't think life could have gotten better. It didn't. It got worse. As the new year came 1984 so began the nightmare. My husband was a painter, and he hung wallpaper. His work slowed down a bit, and guys he grew up with would stop by and not stay but a few minutes, and then would leave. Through my own detective work, I found out that he was selling pills for some guy and that he would make enough money for the bills and his own little habit at the time. After I finally got the truth out of him, the supplier gave my husband some real good advice and said, Let your wife hold them since she don't use and this way you'll not be tempted and only take one a day and you'll make more money just tell her only to give you one and your profit will be higher".

I make no excuse's for what I did, believe you me! I paid the price for my involvement, and before you can say Goth I was hooked on these little yellow pills that you cooked up in a spoon and shot them in your arm. At the time the price was $40.00 a pill. Before you knew it, we made no profit, we just sold enough to keep our habit going. I knew nothing about addiction and even less about what I was doing to myself. Now spring comes. My husband is back to work. I'm at home like the housewife next door, cooking, cleaning, and up to about 3 pills a day. The insanity of it all! If only I would have went for help then. But, how on earth would I be able to tell my doctor this horrible secret?

Well when the little yellow pills started to become harder to get, a carload of us would go down to drug city and got heroin. I thought we found heaven a bag was only $25.00 and you stayed high longer. So before you knew it, we met new connections, and experienced the excitement of it all. Then the day comes when you get there, and you're feeling lousy and you get someone else, and they say. "So and so said to deal with me, he won't be back for awhile, but, it's your choice you can wait". Boy, was he experienced in ripping people off!

We were sick. We have to run home. tell the folks we needed to borrow money for the electric bill, or they'll shut us off. Then back down to Drug City with our 100 bucks, and who isn't on the corner? Our supplier. He was pissed because that should have been his money. But, what was done was done, and after the lecture, our connection tod me "Man I told you. Nobody but me, these assholes will rip off their own mother".

Now the excitement is starting to go away it's you or them, and you have no choice to learn the game you will get burned every time. I learned the game and I learned it real fast. Through it all I only managed to get one arrest. It was called the hospital scam. A guy I knew would call the hospital and he knew all the medical terms and tell the emergency room physician that he had a patient by the name of John Doe staying with family who are taking care of him that live in that area. Could you do a favor from one doctor to another, and I can send his granddaughter in with the prescription bottle and so on. Well, the scam works for awhile, but, there is always one doctor out of ten that will call just to make sure. I get to the emergency room and the doctor plays it cool. Said I had to fill out a form and he would give me the script. The guy who sent me in said that happens sometimes, and not to be alarmed. He filled me in on what to watch for and so on.

The doctor was busy in the ER so after I filled out this small form, I go back to the counter and he says, "Oh yes, I can write it now". So he tells me to step into his office, and there as big as life, is a man in a suit. I see no indication of police, so I'm just praying he is the administrator of the hospital to pitch me out, this happens sometimes the guy who does the scam said. Not so! The Doc introduces him as officer something or another, and I just sat there. Busted! Reality kicks in and I just sit with a embarassed look on my face. He took me to the station after the reading of my righ's. I ask if I could call my lawyer. He obliges. My lawyer (also related to my husband's family) gets me an ROR because I had never been in trouble with the law, and he assures the officer I'd be there for the hearing. I guess the officer of the law took pity on my track marks, and realized how sick I was. He told me I needed to get into a hospital for detox. When I ask him, "What is detox?", he almost fell off of his chair. I ended up with a fine, court costs, and a years probatiion.

So now I'm on probation with a record; something about breaking the Drug and Cosmetic act. I start to get sick of the whole thing! At this point I had a really nice probation officer and after being on probation awhile I tell her that me and my husband, now ex, decided to move to Florida. At this point he was doing fine but I still had a habit at the time. Maybe a bag or two a day, just enough to create more problems between my husband and I. He figured since he was on meth, and my habit wasn't so bad, that I could just quit! I wish I could have but at the time it was the mental withdrawal, and that is worse or say just as bad as the physical one.

We started to talk about moving to Florida, and his cousin was down there, and said Joe could make a whole lot of money. I guess not too many people were good paper wall hanger's so when I talked to my probation officer and she thought it was a great idea. At the time my sister was dying with cancer and it was really hard on Linda and I we were the only two in the family who would take care of her. Thank God at the time Linda wasn't using. I still was, and that is when I ended up in the same hospital with a big abcess from that tar heroin, and that was the last time I ever used the garbage. The Doctor wouldn't even tell me what was found in the tar heroi. He said he didn't feel the need to upset me. So no more tar for me. My God this was the first time I had to tell the doctor what I had done, but, he was a very nice doctor.

My sister Beth died in November of 1986, so in the middle of December my family moves to West Palm Beach, and I thought the past was behind me. I can stay away from all drug areas and still with nobody you know to cop for you it is best to just be in that position. Not two weeks later who doesn't pull in our driveway but a couple of yo Yom's we used to use with up north. We had forgotten they moved to Florida two years before, and how were we to know that just with our wonderful luck, they lived two blocks away. We told them that we moved there to not use and at first they respected our wishes, but, that was not to last too long, my guess would be about a month after all we just moved there; no money and just one income so it wasn't that hard to say 'No' when you have to pay your rent, electric, etc. But, of course, as fate would have it, we ended up doing work on the side for our landlord. They had built a new home and needed a wallpaper hanger and were very pleased with Joe's work.

We ended up with a few extra dollers, so we decided to treat ourselves to a couple of dilaudids. What a letdown! We paid full price. plus had to buy Bruce and his wife one. So, for $80.00 we got about a one hour high. Joe and I vowed never again, as we had gotten used to heroin, and back in the late eighties coke was popular in West Palm and good heroin was impossible to find. We did on occasion do pills, but, we just gotten to a point that we liked our jobs, we liked the area we lived in, and we knew if we messed up we would end up back in Pennsylvania, and we never wanted to go back. Things were going too well, and since we never went for any programs, we never realized staying clean just wasn't enough.

My mother took real sick, and I had to come back for a few weeks to help take care of her. While I was gone, Joe got involved with coke! I went crazy! My mom's up north dying, and he gets our income tax check and blows it up his nose. Now we're behind on the bills. I got custody of the kids after we had a heated argument. He was put in jail for beating me up. I took off up north to be with my dying mother. My life was a mess. The day after I got up north, my mother died.

I started using pills and before a year went by, I was back out there. My husband came up from Florida and we did try several times to reconcile our differences. But, he was getting way out there- selling, making New York trips, and I knew I didn't want to get involved with the police for all the things he was getting into, the big time money! I ended up using, but, I was dating guys that I did care about. Well, at least some. There were a few that I just used. I don't say that with pride, I was wrong.

Then I fell in love with a man who was waiting for sentencing for something minor. He ended up dying with liver cancer while he was in jail. I miss him when I think about him all the time. My ex is in jail for a petty crime, and for the kids sake, I hope he will get out soon because he was a good father(when he isn't using) and I know they miss him often. I remarried a really nice guy who has eight years clean, and he only puts up with the methadone program because we get 80% of our money back from the insurance company. I have been on the program for about six years and now with the HEP C I got I'm afraid to come off.

Every single person I knew that got off ended up back out there. Out of all those people, I think one person goes to meetings and is staying clean. That's what I heard anyway, but, you never know. Well, I never intended on this story being this long, but, I couldn't leave most of this out, I want to end on this note: if you're in recovery, please don't say, "I would never have started if it weren't for so and so, or the doc did this to me", believe me you're wasting your breathe, and for God sake, you must forgive the one person that is very hard to forgive, and that is yourself. We all ended down this road for a reason, and now is the time not to go back, go forward. Live each day to its fullest, and never say "I can't"! Think about everything we did when we were out there. The courage we displayed to get our high, me walking into a hospital, drugs definitely were the reason I did that. Let us display that courage for a good cause, and that is to let the public know we are their next door neighbors, the teacher who teaches school, and the person who is in front of you at the check out line. I say let's open up and show the courage we showed before. Come on! We are human beings with a substance abuse program and no need to be ashamed at all.