TW: this story discusses multiple forms of trauma, including overdose, miscarriage, and mental health.

Misusing Substances After Pregnancy Loss

After my very first miscarriage, I tried to numb the pain with everything I could think of. My child’s father and his friends brought me bags and bags of pills. I didn’t know what they were, but I didn’t care. I just knew they would make me not feel what I was feeling. Some I swallowed and chased with alcohol, some I inhaled through my nose. At 17, I would do anything just to chase that high. When he left me 3 days later, my mom started giving me muscle relaxers. That’s how my addiction to Benzodiazepines started. 

A Near-Fatal Overdose

At 24 and multiple miscarriages later, I was working a dead end job in a factory. I was also going through some legal troubles with my family. Having my younger cousins taken away from my life because of a terrible decision — I was under the influence of drugs and alcohol. I was self medicating just to get through my long hour shifts. I couldn’t even manage to get on my feet. I was taking multiple pain meds, anxiety pills, muscle relaxers and chasing them with alcohol before my shifts. 

One particular night, I brought my cocktail of drugs with me to work and brought them inside. I remember going to the bathroom and taking more. I had taken over 30 pills as opposed to my usual 21 per night. I remember going back to my line and being fine for a little while…suddenly it hit me that I wasn’t ok. I went to the line inspector and asked her to call 911. The next thing I remember is fading in and out of consciousness and hearing my supervisors holding me on a stool. She was screaming to get help. An ambulance pulled into the factory. That’s the last thing I saw. Then I heard the EMTs were screaming “she has no pulse,” “she’s not breathing,” “there’s no heartbeat!!” I remember thinking I was talking to them and complying with their requests to squeeze her hand…I opened my eyes voluntarily, but I was wrong. I was awake and alert in my head, but to the outside world, I was already gone. The sternum rubs, the begging, the pleading for me to come back…Finally, I woke up. It was a second chance not many people could get. 

Maintaining Abstinence with the Support of My Friends

When I finally got home from the hospital, I flushed everything I had and quit pills – cold turkey. I went through the withdrawals and everything by myself. I was never offered any kind of treatment. Even when I opened up about my addiction to family, friends, and medical professionals. No one but my close friends knew I had been an addict until years later. My friends supported and encouraged me. I tried programs, I tried meetings. At the end of the day…abstinence is what works best for me.

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