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[ Personal Narratives ]

Addiction is a Selfish Disease AND AFFECTS OUR LOVED ONES MORE THAN WE KNOW!

A LETTER FROM MY SISTER WHO IS PICTURED ABOVE ABOUT MY ADDICTION!

My little sister was never a ‘drug addict.’ She became addicted to prescription narcotics after a work-related injury. When I saw the extent of her addiction and observed how easily she obtained narcotic prescriptions from her doctor, I was appalled.

I never experienced such horror as my sister’s addiction. Through the past years, I lost communication with my sister. She would rarely answer the phone, and our contact was brief. When I did visit, there were often bent spoons in the sink and blood dripping down her arm. We went to the emergency room innumerable times over abscesses and infections. Many times, she was too loaded to even realize that we were at the hospital. I tried to take care of her.

Then came the most frightening night of my life. On October 23, 2006, I went to my sister’s house. The doors were wide open, heat blazing, toilet overflowing, and syringes filled with blood on coffee tables, in the sink, in the refrigerator. My heart almost stopped as I saw my sister – arms rolling like windmills, tongue cracked like a desert, delirious, and naked. I got her semi-dressed and stuffed her in my car.

My mind was in total chaos. We rushed to the ER. A few days later, my sister was diagnosed with brain and liver abscesses from IV drug use. She could not communicate, nor could she even complete the basic functions of life. She spent about a month in the hospital, and then she was transferred to a nursing home.

But she had not hit bottom. Within a few weeks of leaving the nursing home, my sister returned to active use of opiates. I was out of my mind. This was one of the most difficult parts – to realize that nothing in the world will save her and that I was powerless to help her anymore. Every time I went to her house, there would be bent spoons in the sink, little pieces of cotton in the ashtray and drops of blood on her hands and wrists.

Finally, miraculously, one day she reached true bottom.

She decided to be done. I will never forget that morning. She was sitting at the kitchen table, had just done a shot, owed people money, and was wondering what to pawn. Amid many tears, she made a decision to stop. That day was a true miracle.

This is a true account of my sister’s near death experience. May her story touch many hearts and inspire other lives.