I was watching a documentary last night on the death of Prince, and I heard one of the commentators say, “I always thought he was too smart to get hooked on drugs.” And I’ve been thinking about that comment all day. Prince died of an accidental overdose of fentanyl. I was addicted to fentanyl for ten years. So, according to that commentator, Prince and I have two things in common—we were addicts, and we were stupid for getting addicted.
Everything in me rises up at that statement. I have so many flaws and shortcomings, but this I know—I am not stupid. I was naïve. I was uneducated. I walked into a neurologist’s office for migraine relief, and after a very short appointment, in which the doctor promised me a cure for my pain, I was given six different prescriptions—all were for narcotics; one was for fentanyl lozenges.
Monty and I went straight to the pharmacy from the neurologist’s office and filled the prescriptions. Fentanyl lozenges, I discovered, were pain medication in the form of a raspberry flavored lollipop. Sounds so benign, doesn’t it? My prescription said to take them “as needed for pain,” so I took one when we got home from the pharmacy. My pain didn’t go away, but as the drug melted into my mouth, my pain melted off into a cloud—I could feel it, but it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered. And I fell in love with that numb feeling—and stayed in love with it and its companion, oblivion, for the next ten years.
According to Wikipedia and the “Death By Fentanyl” website, fentanyl is fifty times stronger and more lethal than heroin. It’s so potent that an amount the size of three grains of sugar will kill an adult. First synthesized in the 1960s by Janssen Pharmaceuticals, fentanyl was initially used as a general anesthetic during surgery. Its only acceptable, “on-label” use is for reduction of severe pain in cancer-sufferers. Even then, it is recommended that it only be used in terminal cancer patients.
I never should have been prescribed fentanyl. I had migraines, not terminal cancer. It was, to me, an act of criminal malpractice and negligence. I trusted my doctor. Like I said, I was naïve and uneducated. I didn’t use Google back then. But I wasn’t stupid. I’ve been off pain medication for five years now, and when I look back, I can see how and why I got addicted—I was prescribed a dangerous, highly toxic and highly addictive drug. I got hooked on it—and that wasn’t my fault. Staying on it for ten years was absolutely my fault. And the choices I made while deep in my addiction were my fault. I point this out because I’ve seen all the drivel on social media lately about how addiction isn’t a disease; it’s a choice. I believe addiction is a disease that starts and ends with a choice. Many of those choices are stupid ones. That doesn’t mean that the person making them is stupid; it also doesn’t mean that the person making them shouldn’t be held accountable for them.
So—to the friends and families of addicts: we need your compassion, not your judgment. Trust me; we’re already judging ourselves enough. We don’t need to be called stupid or have you argue about whether addiction is a choice or a disease. To us, it just is—it’s a fact of our lives. We desperately need our loved ones to say, “I don’t really understand this, but I’m here to listen and love you through it.” We need grace—even though—and especially because—we don’t deserve it. And we need your patience. Recovery is a process; it doesn’t happen overnight, and it may take several tries before it “sticks.”
To those of you who have not yet been touched by addiction, I beg of you—educate yourself. If a doctor prescribes something for you—I don’t care if it’s something as innocent-sounding as cough drops—Google it before you take it. Then ask yourself if it’s worth taking. I know that we’re taught to respect doctors, and second-guessing them is not something they appreciate—but your life could be at stake if you do what I did and naively fill a prescription without researching it first.
And to my fellow addicts: know this—you aren’t stupid. You aren’t beyond hope. You aren’t the one person that God can’t help. Here’s what you are: still valuable. Still loved. Still worth the fight—the fight to free yourself from your addiction. Find an NA meeting or other recovery group, and take that first step into a new life. If you’re breathing, there’s still time to change the way your story will end.
That’s what I’m most grateful for—that I was able to quit before my story ended in an overdose like Prince’s. By all accounts, I should have overdosed—the amount of Fentanyl I was taking towards the end absolutely should have killed me. It didn’t. So I’m making smart choices now—going to meetings, choosing healthier routes to pain relief, and remembering every day that I must be vigilant about not going back to that place of darkness and oblivion. I don’t want to be another statistic. I don’t want my life story to end like Prince’s did. I want to be one of the recovered addicts who shares my story and maybe, just maybe, helps one addict who needs it. It’s too late for Prince; it’s not too late for me and for so many others like me. I think we’re smart enough to change how our stories end.
In all these things we are more than conquerors
through Him who loved us.Romans 8:37
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Comments 12
Dear Renee, what a story. I’m glad you shared it, and I feel sure the Lord will keep opening the doors for you to speak into other peoples’ lives as long as you are willing to trust Him for the words and the results. Addictions can happen so quickly, and nearly everyone looks for a painkiller of some kind at some point in their lives. Praise be to God that He loves people even more than we do, and that He partners with us to bring help to all who will hear Him.
Heather, I like what you said about everyone looking for a painkiller at some point in their lives–sad but true. And I like the idea of partnering with God to share my story. Thank you–and thank you for the comment.
All I can do is sit here and cry. They are tears of bitterness, regret, sorrow, empathy, love, and an everlasting grateful to the grace poured over you, poured over the two people in my life whom I love dearly who struggle every day with their own recoveries. Thank you one more time for the willingness to listen to God’s encouragement to share your story and his love for us all through it. I love you so much my friend!
Oh, Danine, now I’m crying! Thank you for sharing your thoughts and your heart. So much love to you tonight–love and, always, prayers.
Thank you for sharing your story Renee, I never knew how you got addicted and yes fentanyl is usually only described for terminal patients, my friend Nancy who passed away some months ago had a fentanyl patch. Right now in Vancouver we have a huge crisis of fentanyl overdoses, it is being cut into street drugs and people are dying like flies, grandmothers, young students, first time users and so on. My daughter’s friend Tibs was found dead of an overdose, merely weeks after he came out of recovery, it was heart breaking. No one ever chooses to get hooked, it almost always starts innocently enough. That said, everyone has an addiction, some will acknowledge, it others know and won’t talk about and I know I have mine. I also was prescribed meds after my severe illness and I chose after almost 8 years not to take it anymore, it took 3 tries before I managed. I for one would never judge anyone especially in light of my own addictions but only listen, love and or help if that is requested. My love to you for sharing this powerful story.
“No one ever chooses to get hooked; it almost always starts innocently enough.” Yes, yes, yes! I wish that more people thought the way you do. Anyone who shares their story with you will be so blessed to be met with nonjudgment, kindness, and love. Because that’s what we need, more than anything. Thank you for sharing and for the comment.
When I stated innocently enough I meant an innocent ‘ something’ to ease the pain, whatever pain that may be and pain comes in so many forms– physical torment, psychological pain, emotional issues, abuse and so on and we never know why the person started whatever they take. I am addicted to cigarettes and it is a pain in the butt and costs too much money. My medications were very much needed and I only took them after my nurse sister helped me accept I needed to take them. Because I had side affects I wanted to stop them and today I am at least free of them, but what a job! I have learned in my long life by now that no matter what you see on the outside, we are all very fragile and we are all handicapped and or as I call it ‘ differently able’— all able but in different ways. We need to leave a lot of room in our differently able lives for others who are impacted by hurts and life as it happened to them. By God’s grace I am able to understand, accept and love others as He would have me do.
Absolutely beautiful. Perfectly said. I have no more words.
Renee, thank you for sharing, with so much transparency in your writing, your addiction journey. My husband and I prayed for you for years as your sweet sister was gathering people to lift you to the throne room of God. Your writing encourages me as we pray for family members that struggle with addiction. I agree they are not stupid but deceived.
Barb, thanks for your kind comments–and for your prayers–prayers that interceded on my behalf when I didn’t even know it. I’m grateful that my story can be of some use–now. Thank you for sharing this with me.
Wow- what a powerful post and a great reminder to always research prescriptions. I’ve been guilty of taking medicines because they were prescribed before, without researching. So scary. I also agree with your comments about how addiction doesn’t make someone stupid. That’s a really poor and unfair description. <3
Thank you, Molly. I love your heart for people and your empathy–you seem to understand certain issues, with clarity and kindness, even if you haven’t experienced them for yourself. Thanks for that and the comment.