Fate and Faith

In Angel’s Arms may be a new venture, but addiction is not new to me. In 2006 I became addicted to prescription painkillers. A year later, I was a full blown needle using heroin addict. The learning curve is far from steep when you’re an addict, however for the families it is quite the opposite.

I was in my first stretch of recovery that I got introduced to a non-profit organization that helped parents of addicts deal with their child’s addiction. My mother had found them by catching a chance segment on a news channel she rarely watched, and the owner of the company helped to guide her as she learned the ins and outs of opioid addiction.

The woman who ran the organization learned everything she knew the hard way, by dealing with her own son. She started to develop plans and protocols for parents to put in place, and showed them how to leverage their child into making the choice to get help. As the years went on, and I continued to relapse, my mother started making her own rules and finding her own ways to deal with me. Eventually, we broke away from the organization which was in another county and started doing the work ourselves in our own town.

From these experiences I learned what parents needed to know to understand the beast that is addiction. I learned how to talk with them, to coach them, so that they could be the force necessary to save the life of their child. As an addict myself, I had something no one else in the previous organization had, which was the ability to work the problem from both sides. I could work with the parents and the addict themselves, because I was one of them.

Even after years in recovery, I still am one of them. I always will be one of them.

It has always been my dream to make a living coaching families, providing youth drug education, and by speaking publicly about living life as a mentally ill, drug addicted millennial. Instead of pursing that, I buried it. I started a handcrafted soap company, which was a creative outlet. I went to cosmetology school because I believed that I wanted to pursue a career in the field and expand my business. I got normal jobs that were just okay. But no matter where I went, I found someone who wanted to talk about addiction. My soap customers, my classmates, my coworkers, and even the strangers who sat in my chair. This disease has touched so many people, I couldn’t go anywhere or do anything that didn’t somehow bring me back to addiction.

Then in the fall, I noticed that I was becoming ill. I was vomiting daily, I was dizzy, and I was short of breath. Exhausted by the simple act of bathing and dressing myself. I had to take a leave of absence from school. I could no longer work, not even for myself making soap. I had nothing but time on my hands. None of my doctors could figure out what was wrong with me. The Saturday night before Thanksgiving I gave up and went to the Emergency Room. I spent the entire week in the hospital.

I became a human pin cushion, having blood drawn multiple times a day. Various tests including three ultrasounds, an MRI, and an endoscopy. Still no answers. They stop all my psychiatric medication. Still no improvement. Finally, they send me home with no answers. I follow up with the clinic and my liver enzymes continue to get worse. I am currently waiting to have a biopsy of my liver after the holidays. My body is broken, but my mind is right. I know what I’m supposed to be doing now.

None of the great doctors at Yale New Haven Hospital can tell me what has caused this liver damage. And I speculate that the biopsy won’t tell us either. Because I think fate is what caused it. Fate wanted me to slow down, way down, to a dead stop. It wanted my brain to keep working while my body sat still. Fate wanted me to remember what I truly love doing, and find a way to start doing it. As long as I am sick, I cannot work a regular job. But I can still do the job I love the most, which is helping to coach families whose children are dying from the deadly disease of addiction. I can still guide them, inspire them, support them and direct them. I can still teach kids about the science of drugs and the brain. I can still speak publicly to my peers who may feel as lost as I once did.

Some people call it God. The God of my understanding is simply the manifestation of fate. The hand of God to me is really just destiny moonlighting under a different name. And regardless of what you or I call it, it brought me right here. Right back into the work I’m meant to be doing. Right back where I belong. So as the new year approaches, I’ve got a new plan to get back into my old work.

And when you love what you do, you never work a day in your life.

©Copyright 2016 In Angel’s Arms and Lauren Goodkin

©Copyright 2016 In Angel’s Arms and Lauren Goodkin

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