I never thought that one day I would find myself addicted to a substance that I could not quit. After many years of trying to heal a person with their own addiction issues, I fell victim to the cycle of abuse, heroin use, incarceration and continuous emotional pain. During my addiction, I had no idea who was watching, who knew, or who I was harming in the process. What I did know, what that I was stuck in a cycle that I could not break on my own.
In May of 2018, I was arrested for falling asleep at the wheel in Carson City, Nevada. I had been up for 11 days and I was completely out of touch with reality. I had decided that things were bad enough that maybe, I wanted to get clean; I wanted to go home. Before I could make it, I fell asleep and stopped in the middle of the road near a school in my home town. Someone out for a walk saw, and came up to my window to attempt to wake me. The person knocked on my window and I was terrified and drove off. I finally arrived at my destination thinking I would finally get some rest and try to clear my head; however, there were other plans for me. As soon as I put my key in the door, a police officer came around the corner on his motorcycle to stop me. He said, “don’t run, Andrea”. To this day, I laugh a little because I replied to him “do you really think I can run? I’m so tired”. Little did I know at the time, this officer would become someone that was in my corner and someone I still have contact with years later. The officer informed me that a concerned community member called law enforcement after I was sleeping in the roadway. As any addict would, I attempted to lie and pretend that I had no idea what he was talking about. I was given a field sobriety test, which I failed with flying colors. Funny part is, I thought I did great. Shortly after my miserable attempt at pretending to be a functioning person, I was placed in the back of the cop car. As soon as they buckled my seat belt, I closed my eyes and thought “thank god, it’s over”. I slept for three days in a jail cell and finally woke up in a place I had never been before. I was 100 pounds and covered in scabs from picking my skin while high. While being moved to general population, I got a glimpse of myself in one of the doors in the jail. The door was reflective and I remember the feeling of not knowing who was looking back at me; I was so thin, so frail, and so lost. I was so weak I could not carry my belongings back to the cell and spilled them all over the floor. I wish I could say after that ninety something days in jail, that I changed everything but, the story continued.
After returning home from jail and rehab to my parents house, I was completely lost. I had not held a cell phone in months or interacted with anyone that wasn’t a counselor or someone struggling to get clean in an institution. I got my phone back, went to social media and discovered that an article had been posted about my arrest in Carson Now, a local news outlet that shares all things related to the community. People were sharing this article calling me horrible names, making fun of me and indicating “I got what I deserved”. I could not believe it. How could people be so cruel? After much shame and embarrassment, I began to tell my story. I thought, well, as long as I am talking about my story, they can’t. This suddenly turned my story into power; nobody could shame me for something that I was bringing to the light. This is how my journey into reclaiming my life begins…
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