Dyer County Stories

Josh

In 2006 while working as a supervisor at a factory in Dyersburg, I injured my lower back while pulling on some rubber that was stuck together on a pallet in the floor. I did not report this accident due to fear of losing my job. I went to see my primary care physician who ordered an MRI, made a referral to a specialist in Jackson and wrote me a prescription for 30 hydrocodone. Not knowing what lie ahead, I began to take them as prescribed. When those 30 rand out, I called and asked for more as I was approaching my appointment with the specialist, but it was a few days away. My new prescription was promptly called in and I continued to take them as prescribed. Finally, the day came of my appointment with the specialist. After reviewing my MRI results, the specialist gave me a list of a progression of exercises to do at home to help push my bulging L2 disc back into place and gave me samples of Lyrica.

I felt let down as by this time I had already developed a relationship with the hydrocodone. Since beginning to take them, I had more energy, could perform better at work and seemed to not have a care in the world. In the next day or two the second prescription of 30 pills ran out. The very next day I began to experience flu-like symptoms and diarrhea. When I arrived at work I told one of my co-workers how I felt, and he immediately said I was “dope sick.” Next he said he had some 10 mg hydrocodone, and he would give me one. Feeling terribly sick, I gladly took it from him. I took half of the pill and felt better in about 15 minutes. I was in the grip of a hopeless dilemma. Due to the pain of withdrawal, I was fearful to stop taking them even though I knew from a moral standpoint that what I was doing was wrong. At this point in my life I was still attending church, helping my wife teach a children’s bible school class and leading our fellowship. I felt ashamed that I had “allowed myself to become dependent” on pills. I had no understanding of the disease of addiction. I approached my co-worker later that night and asked what doctor he saw. He not only told me which one to go see but exactly what to say to him to ensure I received a prescription for 60 hydrocodone 10 mgs. Sure enough the doctor wrote them to me and the next month gave me 90 of them. I informed my doctor of the increased anxiety I was experiencing (due to the moral dilemma), and he wrote me a prescription for Xanax along with the pain pills.

After taking both pills together for a few months, I asked for Somas and began taking all three of these at the same time.

I had arrived.

I wanted to feel like this for the rest of my life. Over time, my tolerance increase as now I was taking them for the effects produced rather than for pain, and one pain pill at a time no longer gave me the desired effect. I began taking two hydrocodone at a time and again felt the “high” I felt in the beginning. Over the next few months, I continued to increase my dose until I was taking five at a time several times a day. My prescription would only last three or four days so I began buying them off the street. They were surprisingly easy to find. I learned of another doctor that would write 120 per month so I started seeing them. The person I was buying them off the street from would “front” me as many as I wanted since I had a good paying job. Before long my entire paycheck was going to the drug dealer.

I had a mortgage payment, three car payments, utilities and other expenses. Due to all of my earnings going toward drugs, I began asking my parents for money. Eventually they handed me one of their credit cards. Instead of paying my past due bills, I bought electronics and traded them for pills. When gas was $4.00/gallon I loaded a 200 gallon tote into the bed of my truck and filled it with gas using my parents’ credit card which I then traded for pills.

I could tell countless other things I did to get what I needed to make me feel okay, but I think this paints a clear picture of the things I was willing to do to feel okay. My wife at the time talked me into going to outpatient treatment. I lied about the amount of substances I was using and how often I was using them during my alcohol and drug assessment so outpatient versus inpatient treatment was recommended. I made it about a week before relapsing one day right after I left group. I did not return for any services after I relapsed. My wife was finally fed up and left. We went on again off again for the next couple of years then she left and didn’t come back. I eventually lost the vehicles one by one, then the house, then divorce and moved back into my parents’ home at age 28. I was laid off from my job during this time and could no longer support my habit due to not having any income except for small unemployment checks every week. I could no longer use my parents’ credit cards.

I made a decision to go to the methadone clinic. I went there for nearly two years getting kicked out of the program twice for mixing Xanax with Methadone which is lethal. After getting kicked the second time, I was introduced to methamphetamines which I quickly fell in love with and stayed on for three years. I was no longer employable. I burned every bridge with every family member and friend I had. I quickly learned I could manufacture meth much cheaper than I could buy it.

I moved into an abandoned trailer with no running water and no electricity (except when running an extension cord from the neighbor’s house) so I could do what I was doing more easily.

Living skills were reduced to an animalistic level. I no longer had the ability to feel my own pain. This went on for about two years until I burglarized a pharmacy to get their Sudafed and was caught. My lawyer was able to get me into the community corrections program where I spent two years on house arrest. In May of 2014, after being released from jail for a probation violation due to being convicted of the burglary and already being on probation, as a condition of my probation I went to get an Alcohol and Drug Assessment. I was recommended to enter outpatient treatment again rather than impatient due to having been abstinent for alcohol and drugs for approximately four weeks while incarcerated. During this time in treatment I was introduced to a 12-step program which I am still involved with and attend regularly today.

What I have learned over the past five years of recovery is that my drug use was merely a symptom of a much deeper issue. Addiction is a disease of the mind, body and spirit so I’ve had to undergo a complete change. Just not using drugs or alcohol has not been the solution to my problem. I have found it necessary to treat all three of these areas in order to recover as have many others who have found this new of life. Today, I continue to surround myself on a regular basis by people who have the common bond of addiction and have found a proven way to remain completely abstinent from all mind and mood altering chemicals and are recovering one day at a time. I also now work as an alcohol and drug counselor at the treatment center I once attended. I have a wife and four children and am happier than I have ever been.