Skip to content

Supply and Demand

September 28, 2010

As a demand planner, I understand the concepts of supply and demand. I work daily to balance the two and contribute my skills to help make my company’s supply chain as “lean” as possible without sacrificing quality. However, there is another area that these concepts apply. The world of drugs. There is a high demand in this area. Therefore, there is a high supply. How do we balance these in order to control addiction? My initial thought is to cut off the supply! I’m specifically referring to the drug, Oxycontin. Stop the supply. Stop producing it all together. I know, the addicts would revert to other drugs, but at least we would get this one off the street.

The demand is not going away. Too many people want to use drugs in order to escape reality. It is the rest of the population who must better manage the supply of such drugs in order to curtail addiction. We need to hold doctors and pharmacists more accountable for the distribution of such strong and addictive drugs. I’m not blaming my prior drug addiction solely on them. But I am certain, that if it had been more difficult to obtain prescriptions for Oxycontin, then I might have gotten clean long before I actually did.

What are your thoughts? How do we manage the supply of powerful pain pills? How do we reduce the demand?

I Pray. You Pray. We All Pray!

September 22, 2010

Our preacher says that prayer is the sincere desire of the heart. He means that we don’t have to get down on our knees and call out to God in a ritualistic manner in order to pray. If we have a sincere desire in our heart, then we are praying. I pray constantly. One of my heart’s desires is for all addicts to escape the hellish grips of addiction and find a peaceful and joyous life. I have this thought many times through out my day. However, until he pointed this out to me, I never really thought of it “counting” as a prayer unless I was formal about it. And, therefore, I always felt like I never prayed enough. Come to find out, I’ve been praying a whole lot more that I thought.

How about you? What is your heart’s sincere desire? What do you pray for?

God bless all those who happen upon these words. In Jesus name, Amen.

“Some addicts are also bird watchers” (via Works Aside)

September 20, 2010

Help stop the stigma!

Its been a funny couple of weeks.  After  months of subtle intuitive signals , I was able to confirm to myself that my sister Hannah was  using again. As soon as I clocked her at our rendez-vous – the first time I had seen her since her intervention and subsequent stint in rehab eight months earlier – I was sure.  I was  disappointed, sad and upset but I wasn't consumed by it in the way I have been before. I wrote about the experience and  I foun … Read More

via Works Aside

I’m Still Here…

September 19, 2010

Hello WordPress readers. I’m still here. I have been so busy with my new job that I’ve been unable to find the time to write. I miss it tremendously but am oh so very grateful to have a wonderful career ahead of me. I love my job and am focused on shortening my learning curve as much as possible. It’s been a while since I’ve had a professional position as I do now and I forgot how much I enjoy this type of work (Supply Chain). For the first time in over seven years, I feel like I actually have a career and a future. This is a GREAT feeling!

My last post left you wondering what the miracle was that “saved” me. Well, he is almost 20 months old now and yes, he is my miracle. I had tried to become pregnant for many years. I even went as far as having some test done and attempting artificial insemination. Nothing. Then, as you have read, I lost my brother suddenly in a car accident. Life was not and never will be the same. I miss him infinitely. My mother was on the verge of suicide. Then, June 4, 2008, I took a pregnancy test, believing it would be negative. I literally fell off the toilet when it showed the positive sign. I know in my heart that God sent me and my family this little miracle, not to replace my brother, but to help us heal from his death.

I thank God each and every morning I awake to such wonderful blessings in my life. I moved home from Germany in August 2008. I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy in January 2009. I landed an incredible position in which I have a great career ahead of me in September 2010. Life is good. To think back and remember where I was and the state of mind I was in 8 years ago is a very emotional reminder. Eight years ago, I was addicted to Oxycontin and had no hope for a future. My life was empty and my soul was dead. I’ve come a long way with the help of God and my family.

My daily prayer is that all addicts can find their way out of addiction and into God’s glorious and blessed path. To be a child of God and to know His love is the most awesome peace of mind I have ever experienced. I pray that each and every drug addict can find their way to this peace that I know and cherish.

May God bless all who happen upon these words. I hope to continue writing here and will be trying to catch up on those posts that I follow dearly.

On a Lighter Note…

September 1, 2010

I will continue my story in my next post. For now, I think this blog needs a little light heartedness. You have got to check out the blog, Hungover Owls! It is hilarious! I know I’ve been there a few times in my past but I would have never thought I resembled an owl, until now. Here’s a sneak peek: Visit their website to see the pics…they are all pretty darn funny!

The Storm

August 31, 2010

April to June of 2008 was a stormy period for me. We all have those, don’t we? Those black holes that seem to be endlessly filled with absolute darkness. Those frightening hurricanes that blow into our lives suddenly out of nowhere and all we can do is hunker down and wait it out. How do you make it through those times in your life? What keeps your head above the surface?

I’m not sure why I didn’t actually drown during this time. If you had met me on the street, you would have instantly sensed the depression and hopelessness. I was a walking hole of blackness. My soul was empty. I was a hollow person. Combine this with the early years of a recovering addict and you get a dangerous combination. I was sinking fast into the shadows of alcoholism. This was my crutch. I never allowed myself to become sober. I was intoxicated from morning to night.

I had lost my brother in a tragic car accident. I was going through a divorce. My mother (who was in the states, while I was living in Germany) was on the verge of suicide. Yes, this was a storm in a raging sea! And I had chosen to climb aboard the alcohol lifeboat. (Might I add, the alcohol lifeboat has a rather large hole in it and does not come with paddles nor a life-vest!) I was going down fast.

As you could imagine, I don’t really recall all the details of those months. My memories are as foggy as the eyes of a contact wearer after a day of crying. I could not have continued another month like I was going. I’m thankful I did not have to. I was saved by a miracle. Something miraculous happened in my life to pull me up out of the darkness I had been in. Some people might say that it was simply a coincidence. I will forever believe it was God sent.

(To. Be. Continued.)

He Didn’t Make It

August 27, 2010

I’ve been hesitant to write about my brother on here. Perhaps because it is just too painful or perhaps because I don’t want to read condolence comments. I’m not sure which but I think it’s time that I get a little of this pain off my chest. My brother, the one who built a home-made pontoon boat at age of 9 in my previous post, was killed in a car accident two years ago. He was only 30 years old. I was living in Germany at the time that I received the most horrible phone call of my life. My mother called me at 6:00 AM,  Germany time. This would have been about midnight, her time. I knew immediately something was wrong. I could hear the panic in her voice. She told me that my brother had been in a car accident and she was on her way to the hospital. I was shocked out of sleep and immediately panic-stricken. “What do I do? What do I do?” I began pacing the floor. I told her to call me back as soon as she reached the hospital.

I had some very close and dear friends during my time in Germany and was fortunate that these people lived just above and below me. I raced to Jenna’s apartment below. Luckily her door was not locked and I was able to storm in and wake her up for support. She immediately notified my friend above me and within minutes, both Jenna and Lisa were by my side, telling me everything was going to be alright. We waited and waited and prayed and prayed. I had not been down on my knees praying like that in a long, long time. I was begging God to let my brother be okay. I was bargaining and pleading with God.

My mom finally called back. She was silently crying and I knew what she was going to say before I had even asked the question. I said, “how is he?” After a long pause, I heard her say, “he didn’t make it.” Those words were the ones that changed me forever. They are still imprinted in my soul. I will never forget them. He. Didn’t. Make. It. My brother, the one that I had loved, hated, and loved all of his 30 years. The one that drove me crazy as an annoying little brother. The one that was always there for me as an adult brother. The good one of the family. The successful one of the family. The one that I could always call and he would come running. He. Didn’t. Make. It.

The next week was a blur to me. I still have a difficult time remembering how I got from Germany to home. I can’t tell you who was at the funeral besides me and my immediate family. I only can tell you the words I heard when mom told me the news. I went back to Germany, after burying my brother, with a broken and grief-filled heart. My friends tried to comfort me but I was unreachable. I began to drink heavily. I never allowed the alcohol to completely leave my system. I started drinking in the early morning and stopped when I went to sleep at night. I could not face life without being numb from the alcohol. It was just too painful.

Each morning I would awake and for a second, just a brief, normal, split second, I would not remember what had happened. Then, like a flood of needles piercing my body all at once, I would remember. He. Didn’t. Make. It. And I would get up and pour myself a drink.

(To. Be. Continued.)