When I last left off, I had overdosed for the second time.
I don’t remember much about the overdose. I do recall that, again, I was taking massive amounts of Benadryl. The potentiating effect caused the overdose this time as well. I know that my little brother found me passed out on the floor in my bedroom – thankfully I had left the door open. I can only imagine the fear and pain it caused him.
I woke up at the hospital after being revived – still no Narcan. As such, I was still high. I remember the nurse would occasionally come in and ask if I would let my mother come in and see me. Embarrassed and ashamed, I kept telling her, “No.” I’m sure it was difficult for my mother to sit in the waiting room not knowing exactly how I was doing. It can be a very selfish disease.
After a bit of recovery time, and at the prompting of my parents, therapist, and psychiatrist, I enrolled in an outpatient program at the Medical University of South Carolina. We met every morning from 9am-1pm for a number of weeks (something like 6-8 if I remember correctly). I learned more about the disease and twelve step programs. I met some interesting people, but I struggled to stay sober even while in the program.
Regardless, I ‘graduated’ from the program and it wasn’t long after that I met my wife. I had been hung up on an ex-girlfriend, Kristen, for quite some time and hadn’t dated in years. Lonely, I decided to put a profile on Plenty of Fish. I sent a message to two women that caught my interest. One was a nerdy gamer that never replied and the other was the woman who became my wife.
Within a week or two of messaging back and forth, we met for coffee at a café on Market Street in downtown Charleston. Our memories differ as to whether I offered to pay for her coffee, lol, but other than that we hit it off pretty well. I was stricken with her quickly, but I was terrified about how to tell her of my issues with addiction.
Only a few days later, we met for our second date at a Mexican restaurant. I told her I was an ‘ex-heroin addict.’ She asked some questions but seemed to take it well overall. I wasn’t honest about the time frame of my addiction and how close my last usage/trip to rehab and the outpatient program had been.
It was the summer when we met and we continued dating frequently. In that time frame, she took a couple of trips, during which I relapsed. I didn’t tell her. After having sex for the first time, I told her I loved her. She told me I didn’t know her well enough to actually be certain of that. I got the last laugh on that one – we’ve been married over a year now.
Still, I was riddled with guilt about the relapses and lack of honesty. I knew that our relationship would never go anywhere if I didn’t come clean at some point. She would ask me directly if I had used and if I was done with drugs and I would lie to her face. It wasn’t until December that I finally broke down and told her.
It was terrifying and heart wrenching and I was sure she would break up with me, but she didn’t. We refer to it as, ‘The Night of Grace.’
I think this is a good stopping point. I’ll try to go into a little more detail about that night when I pickup with part VII.
The picture I used is just a shot of a mummified lizard. The poor bastard was in the door jam and we must’ve slammed the door on him. We didn’t notice the body until some weeks later. Still, I think it’s a cool, if not morbid, pic.
