A Farewell to Friendship?

My friend Marie is addicted to pain pills. She's been addicted to them for over 11 years now. I think she's finally hit rock bottom. Well, I think there's further she could go, but I'm hoping this is as far as she has to get in order to make a change.

I am guilty of having known about her addiction for the last couple of years. I have thought about calling her mother, or calling her doctors, but never thought it was my place to do so, never wanted to 'make it worse' on her. I always thought I could help her overcome it somehow. I regret that incredibly.

It all started after the birth of her second child. There were a lot of complications from the epidural, and she ended up having a lot of very strange pain and intense migraines. The doctors were not careful with dispensing the pills, and she ended up hooked. She has worked the system visiting different doctors, ERs and clinics. She has gotten them from other people who wanted to help, by giving her things that they had been prescribed that didn't work for them, so that maybe she would find some relief from her headaches.

Well, in January things finally came to a head when her teenage son went to live with his father; she began to spin out of control so much that she had visited several doctors, emergency rooms, and clinics in order to get several types of pain medications and cough syrups. I think she said she got 60 pills in 3 days or something. I know it was a crazy number! Thankfully, the pharmacy flagged it and notified all the doctors as to what was going on. As a result, she can (probably) no longer get narcotics medications in this area, and her PCP dropped her as a patient.

Let me say here that I completely disagree with what her PCP did. I understand that Marie broke her confidence with her PCP, of that there is no doubt, and no forgiveness. However, now Marie will have to get a new PCP who may not actually realize or find out that she has the addiction, and will right off the bat be in a strained relationship. I wish that the PCP had kept her on as a patient so that she would be the responsible and aware physician that Marie needs. Addiction to pain medication is a HUGE problem, especially in the area in which we live, and it needs to be dealt with differently by the medical establishment. I wish doctors would pay more attention to what they're prescribing, how much and how often, and would then, when a problem is spotted, take the initiative to help that person if they still desire it, and to not leave them high and dry. How many people like Marie have then turned to buying those pain pills illegally, or a rougher drug because they are desperate?

I worry about her SO much, and that is part of the reason it's taken me this long to finally say 'enough' and let her know I cannot help her anymore.

Well, anyway, after what happened with the pharmacies and doctors in January, Marie started to really abuse one of the medications she is still on. It's actually one I used to take for my nerve ending problems associated with Fibromyalgia: Neurontin. Somehow she talked another doctor into prescribing her 8 per day, or 240 per month!!! It's outrageous that she ever got that many. Anyway, she was having a hard time controlling it, taking even more than 8 per day, sometimes up to 30 in 24 hours! When she finally told me what she had been doing, I offered to help her by dividing up the pills into 4 equal parts and having her pick them up once per week in order to make them last as they should.

We got through the first month--last month--rather shakily. She had to come and get pills early because she would have taken too many, but she somehow made it through. I really felt sorry for her, as I know what addiction is like, and didn't judge her for it. This month was not so good, but she was just into week two. It never bothered me to do it, I was hoping it would work for her because she actually does need that medication for a nerve condition she has. What's the big deal of counting out some pills, putting them into different containers, and holding them until she comes to get them? I didn't mind, and they didn't bother me. I could live in a pharmacy and not care. Pills don't do it for me. My plan is to get off of the ones I am on now. So, to dole them out to her didn't put me out at all.

Well, this weekend was pretty insane. She had been given Trazodone by an idiot psychiatrist which made her really dizzy, tired, and sick, and of course, she was drinking alcohol which it says to absolutely NOT do. Unfortunately, Marie uses alcohol for another addiction outlet. Her drinking is out of control now, too.

So, she said that Friday evening was her last Trazodone, and Saturday she was pretty sick and very tired from it, and asked me to bring her the next batch of her pills for the next week so she would already have them. So, I was going sort-of in that direction so I drove out there to her house. I could tell she had not been well. She didn't look drugged like I've seen her so many times, she just looked like someone who was getting over being sick. She said she was just going to go to bed after she watched a movie.

At 6 am my phone rang and woke me up. Now, as I have told you before, it usually takes me a long time to get to sleep, and I don't sleep very well. It had taken me until 4 am to get to sleep, and I had to get up at 8 am in order to make it to church. Needless to say, being awakened by a drunk idiot leaving a message on the machine about the same dumb things she always does, but doesn't stop doing, did NOT amuse me. I am sorry to be so blunt, but really, you can only hear the same thing from someone over and over before you get sick of dealing with them!

So, I hardly got any sleep which made for a really long and rather difficult day. I have to say that I was VERY angry with her. So I was rather childish and didn't talk to her until yesterday--she called at least 10 times and left messages. I was really so mad that I didn't think I could talk to her without being mean and I didn't want to go there. I wasn't sure I was going to talk to her ever again, honestly. I finally figured out she didn't care about me, and was only using me, just as she has almost our entire friendship.

Now, I allowed it to happen, so that's my own fault undoubtedly. But, I finally decided that I'd had enough of it, I deserved better, and I couldn't help her anymore--she needs way more help than I have in me. I also know that the addicted Marie is not the sober Marie. Before the addiction she was rather selfish, but never to the point of not caring at all and doing specifically vicious things. She has gotten to that point now and honestly, I don't like her.

We talked yesterday. She ended up showing up here with food--my addiction. And it's not the first time she has tried to undermine me by giving me food. That sounds so stupid, but it's true. I gained the almost 10 pounds I'd lost on Weight Watchers back from 2 weeks of her giving me a bunch of food. At one point I said that I was thinking if I really let myself get out of control, I'd be 900 pounds and trapped in my house. She said, "Sweetie, that's OK, you can get me pain pills and I'll keep feeding you." I wish she had really been kidding.

So anyway, she asked me to give her another week's worth of pills as she had already taken that other bag in two days--at least 60 pills--and to throw the rest away. She had no refills left on those and is supposed to see a counselor of some sort next Monday. I did as she asked, the extras are gone. She said she knew it wasn't going to work, intimating that I was judging her by getting mad at her, so in essence, I had let her down.

Once, a guy told her, "I'm disappointed in you." She always thought it was SO ridiculous that he said it to her, but I have to admit, that's exactly what I've been thinking, I'm disappointed. I wish she would have been able to get a grip on her addiction, get herself under control, and not let herself get into as much trouble as she has. I wish she could really see what she's done. I wish she had some remorse. I think it's going to come, and I believe she can overcome the addiction. She doesn't give herself credit and she's been destructive for so long. I can only hope that those people on Monday can help her.

I guess all of us who are addicts think we can control it. It's a lie of the enemy. THIS time we can do it differently. THIS time we have it all under control. Just like in AA, they tell alcoholics that they are always addicts, one drop of alcohol is too much. No matter the addiction, the same truth prevails. In my case, food is REALLY tough because I HAVE to eat. There's no way out of it. I HAVE to take control and break all of the patterns that lead me to overeat. It's really hard to do because I have to be 'on' 24-7, always cognizant of what I'm doing, what I'm thinking, what I'm eating, if and why they're related. I can't let my guard down, and when I get out of control I don't have any real grasp on reality. It's scary for me, I can't imagine what it's like to have an addiction to a potentially deadly substance.

I really do hope Marie finds the help she needs. I am not gone from her life, I'm just gone from her addiction. I don't want to be brought down myself. Two drowning people cannot help each other out of the water. I think I'm finally starting to crawl up on the beach and I can't disregard my own health and well-being for anything. I hope to see her on the other side of it and be really proud of her. I'd never not talk to her, but I can't help her, I don't have the training, I don't have the resources, I don't have the strength. I love her, and I always will, and I will pray for her always. But I have to love me more.

:) Jan

I'm Getting Worried

I just read my last post, ha, "normal," what a laugh! I guess my "normal" is a constant state of chaos.

Oh, and before I forget, I lost 4 pounds this week which brings my grand total--including last week's weight gain--to 6.5 pounds lost. Not bad.

But seriously, I'm getting worried. I am wondering if I will ever be healthy or something remotely like it, and I'm wondering if there isn't something seriously wrong with my brain.

I've been sick, A LOT. I'm always sick it seems, something's always wrong, hurting, whatever. Since I went to WVU to see the specialist it's been insanely worse. Today I nearly killed myself and my mom. I was driving home from the doctor's office and all the sudden I realized there was a car stopped in front of me. God sent my angels to steer that car because there's no humanly way I could have made it move that smoothly around the other car without help. I was so scared, I have no idea where my brain was that I didn't notice the car in front of me.

I can't help but wonder if that Tramadol really messed me up. Now granted I have a sinus infection right now and that makes me feel crappy, but gosh, I can't believe how "not there" my brain is. I'm forgetting things left and right, I can't think straight, I get dizzy still. Until this infection is cleared up I can't be certain, but I'm concerned indeed.

I'm also concerned that I'm never going to get off this track I'm on. I feel like I'm getting nowhere. I feel like I'm hanging by the end of my rope, and no matter how much I struggle I can't seem to reach for anything. I'm so frustrated!!! I can't seem to make things happen. The day goes by so quickly and I don't get anything accomplished. I practically cheer when I get some silly little thing done. I can't come up with hardly any new ideas or things to try. Have I crossed over some invisible line from a place from which I cannot return?

Now, I went to college at Ohio University. Anyone who is remotely familiar with it knows that it was once regarded as THE party school and held that title for years until it was officially retired from the list. I was far from a party animal, but I did my fair share of drinking. I know I killed some brain cells there. I often marvel, it's a good thing that dead brain cells don't fall out of our heads and pile up because Athens, Ohio would have been buried decades ago!

Besides losing those precious cells I have had some very high blood sugar readings from my diabetes. We're talking 500-800. And unfortunately I carried those scores for several years before finally getting it under control. I know that those kinds of numbers are very dangerous, and I know that when they were really high I wouldn't have much of a brain left.

When you couple all of this with fibromyalgia's infamous "brain fog" I'm wondering if maybe I'm not completely screwed? I've talked to quite a few fibro sufferers and that one thing seems to be a common complaint. I don't know how anyone else would really explain it, but I feel like I just can't quite get "the point" sometimes. Like there's no clarity, no matter how hard I "sits and thinks" I can't seem to come up with something with a lot of substance. I could be the proverbial tail-chasing cat. If I had a tail I know I'd go for it. I can't seem to make 'headway' in my brain--all puns ARE intended.

I'm SO frustrated!!!

It actually used to be worse. I used to drink & eat so-called "diet" things that contained aspartame. I couldn't seem to keep a thought in my head. Something simple like recalling what a hood on a car is called, "You know, that thing that lifts up and down that's on your car and all the parts are under it...?" Egad, I remember that conversation so clearly. Though I can't be certain if that's what it was actually. Now that I think about it, that happened not too long before I was diagnosed with fibro. But then, I think my mind seemed to improve after I stopped the aspartame. Oh well, no matter, I won't go back to the stuff. I'm hoping to become chemical-free one of these days!

My friends have to think I'm about an idiot. Every time we turn around I screw up something, can't think, say something stupid, and it's like watching a train wreck happen. I hate it. I truly, truly hate it. I used to be smart, maybe not a lot of sense--see marriage/divorce--but smart. And now I feel like a fool most of the time. Have I damaged my brain? Is there something I'm not doing that I could do that would make a difference? Is there any hope? Or is this simply a time in my life when my brain is just taking a little vacation from all the crap that has been happening?

I truly feel overwhelmed. It seems like everything in my life is wrong. It feels like everything that I try fails, and things I need to try I never see. I'm wondering what the future holds. Is the old me really gone, never to return? In most instances that would be good as there are many things I would not want to go back and pick up. But I have to say I'm really concerned my brain is drastically different than it used to be.

One of my favorite little cutesy sayings is: "Sometimes I sits and thinks, and sometimes I just sits." It's starting to not be so cute to me, it's becoming too real.

:) Jan