Miranda

21 Sep Miranda

I’m Miranda and I’m a recovering heroin addict…My story started today when my kids and I woke up in our 3 bedroom home. I am super blessed to be able to work for everything I have today. It took 2 years just to say that much! My life did not get any easier the day I got clean…

About 30 days into my sobriety I got out of jail for the last time. I was 6 months pregnant, serving tables at Bob Evans and sleeping on an air mattress at my step dads place. Everybody was basically over me and my addiction by this point. They were afraid I would manipulate or steal from them.. so not much help or contact with anyone this time..

Somebody from the alcoholics anonymous meetings had a 1 bedroom upstairs apartment for rent conveniently at the same time I had to leave my step dads. Luckily it was just in time for my daughter to be born and her Dad was released from jail and he moved in. After about 6 months of gaining a little of my family’s’ trust back by doing the next right thing, we broke up so Haizley (my daughter) & I moved out of the apartment and into my Dad’s house, leaving most of my things i just acquired behind.

Going through a dramatic break up and moving into my parents with my little baby I worked a full time at Cooper Farms- literally ripping dead turkeys throats out and part time at Casa’s ( a Mexican restaurant) serving tables. I lived with my dad and step mom, my 3 sisters, my sisters boyfriend and her baby, along with 4 dogs and my baby. I slept in the upstairs area with no privacy. A year clean, there I was on my Dads porch at 4 am with the little amount of stuff I brought with me and my baby because my family was never functional in the first place & I couldn’t keep my full time job without stability, so again with no where to go I slept at a friends here and there with my baby working at Casa’s.

Continuing to push forward, I showed up at my moms with a bag of clothes and begged her to let me and Haizley stay. Luckily, she agreed and just a couple of months later she helped me put a deposit down on a studio apartment. Paying bills again I started working at AAP, making more money. I worked 4-5 days, 12 hour, 3 shift nights, taking care of a 1 year old, with 2 hours of sleep a day. I worked a lot of overtime for awhile and made good money. I bought a car after not having one for 4 years. I was completely on my own after 4 years. My little sister & my other daughter came to visit me almost every weekend. Life was good! So good it seemed like the perfect time to mess it up again…

I found out I was pregnant again shortly after my daughters 1st birthday party and moved back into that upstairs apartment with my children’s dad. Very quickly did I see how everything can be lost, once again. I let toxic vibes back into my life so karma took my car, my job, my apartment, and my independence. Once again 6 months pregnant with my toddler, and no where to go, because we didn’t work out. Broken, but a year and a half sober I moved all my stuff back out and into my friends garage and my bed in the room. A few months went by working at Totally Promotional and I finally had about $500 saved up when I found out child support drained my bank account -$7,000. Stressed out, wanting to officially give up, I called, left messages, and finally left work and pulled up at job and family services to see what was going on. Some how, some way, they ended up putting all the money back. The next pay check my insurance kicked in and between that and child support, they took 80% of my biweekly check. I left more messages to JFS and some how, some way, I don’t have to carry the insurance. I solely believe I was supposed to give up after going through all of this, AGAIN.

But I didn’t and I went to church for the first time that Sunday because good sh** does not happen to me. Then I had to move my stuff out of my friends garage and move into another friends for awhile. 8 months pregnant, staying in my friends front room, I kept looking for a place to rent even though nobody wanted to rent to me because of my felonies. Finally, somehow, some way, my landlord now rented me my 3 bedroom house. I saved up every penny, quit smoking, quit nickel and diming myself at the gas station and had enough for rent, deposit, utility deposit, rent for maternity leave, a new couch, and an AC. And here I am telling you how I got here…

I can’t tell you when it all started. Whether it was my dysfunctional childhood or in high school starting to drink or when I started stealing Xanax from a pharmacy I worked at. But my addiction progressed to heroin by the time I graduated high school. Using excuses like ” I would never use a needle” ” I don’t steal I don’t get dope sick” I eventually started wishing I had a new needle or wishing I had something to go pawn.

August, 2013 I moved into Williamsburg, an apartment complex, with my first daughter and I was 21. I worked at JT’s serving tables to support my drug “habit” My low income apartment didn’t cost much and my parents paid what bills I did have. I started doing drugs with people in town, met a dealer then started selling dope out of my apartment. People in and out, shooting up in the bathroom, cooking in the kitchen, OD’ing in the living room, I made drug money to support my addiction. It got really bad, really quick.. My 18 month old daughter picked a cap off the floor and ate it, I took her to the hospital and I lost custody of her. I tried to stop doing drugs for the first time on my own and realized I had a serious problem when I was sick and couldn’t stop. Everybody knew I did drugs after I lost my daughter. So my bills weren’t paid, I didn’t have electric, I pawned all my electronics, I sold my entire living room for 10 caps, paid my debt in sex. I assume the manager knew I was selling drugs too because she was evicting me. I put everything else in storage and eventually lost everything in there. Town was dry, I couldn’t keep up selling drugs because I did all the drugs, and I was homeless. I called my Dad and told him I wanted to go to rehab so he sent me to one in San Diego California November 2014. My first time in rehab was more like a beautiful vacation. The day I flew back I got jumped then I got high.

I was living at my brothers driving my Dad’s car around because everybody thought I was good now. People gave me money when I made something up that I needed it for. Cops always pulled me over but never found anything. My brother ended up selling his house and I was living on the streets again. Staying in hotels, making trips to Dayton for drugs, hustling people out of their money if they needed anything, living in campers and robbing people. Sometimes I stayed in somebody’s unlocked garage. I had to lie about how much drugs cost to people who also did drugs, just to get more money to spend on drugs. On rainy days, I had to spend less on dope to sleep in a hotel. Every morning at check out time I’d pack my back pack up and sit at the park for endless hours using WIFI trying to figure out how to get heroin, how to get money, how to get a ride how to get high and where to sleep again. I was always so dope sick, always waiting on my dude, who was never on time but the moment I had it in my hand I could already feel its warm hug in my chest. I would go back to the park and use the toilet water in the bathroom to get my shot ready. If I couldn’t find a vein because my syringe was too bent or dull or my arms were so f*cked up I’d spend hours poking myself to find one just to miss it and waste my shot. Every day was the same concept but also a mystery. How much money will I get today? Will I get dope in town or in the city. The excitement when I find out I’m getting money or when my dude messages back is half the rush.

The money and the hustling always comes to an end though. I went to a 3 day detox in Columbus and was sent home with a script of soboxone. I left Celina and went to a homeless shelter in Lima. I found a new dude and found different people to hustle. I was kicked out of the shelter and moved onto the next shelter. While you were suppose to be “job hunting” while living at the shelter I spent my days across town in the hotels smoking crack and shooting dope with dope boys. I sold myself and then walked across town by myself every night to stop at my dudes with the better dope right before curfew. I was never scared of anything. I shared needles with people that were pretty questionable because mine broke and I got beat up and robbed a couple times walking back but still did it every day.

Back in Celina, I had a warrant for possession and turned myself into jail after being sick of Lima. My first real time in county was once again, a vacation. My friends were in there for all the same things I was. All we did was play around all day and not take anything seriously. I did not learn my lesson. My parents put money on my books and I had visitors. I was cool. I was let out on OR bond and made it 12 days getting high the entire time at my moms and was back in jail. I got out on another OR bond and lasted this time about 3 months.

In that time, somebody OD’d again, which became so normal just to do the routine: get them naked throw them in the shower and turn the water on cold, beat on their chest and call 911 last. While this person’s kid begging me to wake his Dad up I was also pregnant and using with my second daughter. My people and I were now making trips to Lima because the dope was better and it was closer than Dayton and less sketchy. It didn’t last long though, I was on the run with another warrant for contempt. I sold the rest of my dope and where I was at, I had to go. I could have went back to Lima, I could have kept running in town, I could have continued using until something else happened. But I didn’t feel like looking for a place to stay anymore, I didn’t want use my broken needle, I didn’t want to worry about how fat the cap is or if it’s good or not… So I smoked an entire pack of cigs in 2 hours made my last trip and turned myself in again for the last time. I thought for sure I was going to prison, losing my baby, and I was “okay” with it. Whatever the courts decided to do was better than the dope life. But I got out again for the last time.

I can’t tell you that I didn’t plan on getting high. I just didn’t. It was too much of a hassle. And I wasn’t even dope sick. Came to the conclusion I wasn’t even high most of the time anyways, just well. Most of the time the dope was short or not even good or I missed my last shot. Most of the time the people I dealt with were shady doing the same things I was doing. I was tired of stealing and selling, sick of jail and the showers, tired of dope boys telling me what i can and cannot do. I was tired of trying to figure sh** out everyday when as of that moment the day was already figured out. All I had to do was go to work and go sleep on my air mattress. Sick and tired of being a slave to heroin.

I didn’t “see the light” at first there was no epiphany. I went through a lot of classes and counseling to even see clearly. I wasn’t the one that had tons of support or believed in a higher power at first. A lot of what I went through clean was meant to knock me down. It wasn’t until just recently, 2 years of being clean did any kind of good karma come my way. It wasn’t until a couple months ago did I even come close to a “spiritual awakening” that they preach about in meetings.

Behind closed doors new problems arise every day. I still have drama with family. I don’t have custody of my daughter, no license, daddy issues, stressing over bills, living the single mom life. But that’s a lot less problems than I used to have. If I give up now then I’m sure I’m never going to succeed. 2 years later I’m still learning who I am now that I know who I am not. I have the same motivation, different goal. I’m not afraid to dream because I’ve already lived through my worst nightmare. Sober is the new high for me today. Today I genuinely laugh and joke. I can wear short sleeves, I spend my money on make up, I have REAL friends who have showed me the meaning of family. I can sit on my new couch that I bought and chill without worrying about how long its been since dude text me. I can shower when I want to, leave when I want to, I do whatever I want to with one foot in front of the other. Most importantly, I don’t have to lie to anybody including myself. Be grateful for your past, embrace it, don’t get embarrassed. Take everything for exactly what it is and give the rest of it up to god. Live in the moment just for today!!❤️