Following the loss of custody of my son, I plunged even farther into the sadness of life. My dependence became just that, a dependence. It eradicated my whole validity. I needed to remain numb & disconnected from my truth because I couldn’t handle it. Until one day, I kicked around with a man I had known since 7th grade. He was also a drug addict of my kind. Perfect right. Not so, I followed him to an open desert area to get high. When it was my turn, everything went awry. In less than a minute, my high came to be an onset of an overdose. Unexpectedly my body felt as if I was burning from the inside.
Not long after this initial reaction I glanced in my car mirror to see my face swelling and turning red. I panicked so much I didn’t anticipate what to do. I glared at the man I’ve known begging him to help me. He said zero as he got into his car and abandoned me. By this time my airways were swelling closed. it was getting harder and harder to breathe. I confessed to myself I was required to get to a hospital. I instructed myself over and over to remain calm so I could breath and drive to my closest friend’s house for aid. I made it there and barely got out of my car gasping like a fish. Next thing I recall is the critical paramedics chatting about where I shot up the drug. They provided me narcan which brings me out of the drug condition. Then I arose with my mom and dad starring at me in a hospital room. That look of disappointment. My dad said a good friend from high school was waiting to see me. My mom started judging me etc… I mumbled I’m taking off and I did. I yanked the IV out, got dressed, and departed with my friend on my way out.