A friend came through town on business a couple weekends ago and we exchanged stories. We hadn’t seen each other for over 6 months. There were lots of stories. One random and slightly unnerving story even happened while he was here. A woman from our town who is involved in using and selling certain things that are not legal, tried to break into our house, not being able to process the fact that the door was locked and would not open. Then, a couple minutes later, she half attacked this friend in the dark street. If you’ve read former posts or visited our town, you may not be surprised by this drama.
BTT and I sometimes get immune to the drama of our town. Until we get into story telling mode. Or until dramatic things happen when other people are around to witness them with us. Or until their children show up on our doorstep without proper clothing and start talking about what’s happening to them. Or disappear entirely for weeks on end. The children, always the children, the loved-but-forgotten, neglected, self-sufficient, children. It’s always about the children with us. But I vowed (to myself) I wouldn’t focus on them today.
People die and come back to life in our town. Maybe this doesn’t happen often, but it has happened at least twice in the last year or half year. I don’t know a lot about drug use, but this town had taught me most of what I do know. Sometimes someone accidentally overdoses, and when they do, someone else is there to administer the antidote and count the minutes until they start breathing again, and, depending on their fear level, call 911. Those adverts I’ve been seeing that read, “don’t use opioids alone!” are there for a reason.
BTT was called by the RCMP to the aftermath of one of these happenings a couple weeks ago, minutes after the ambulance had left the scene. He listened to a woman who had watched her friend die, then come back to life. Although she is a user herself, this happening really shook her up and she cried as she told the story. She takes this risk frequently to quell her demons and satisfy her addiction. But it scares her .
I haven’t been able to see drug use from this angle before. In my mind Ive know exactly what kind of person this woman is: the kind whose addictions are more important to her than her children, who are no longer in her custody. Hearing this from her, made me realize it may not be that simple. For her, these addictions aren't only a hallucinative break from reality. They scare her with their tight hold and uncertain power. They are a power, an evil one, stronger than she is. She may have once chosen them, but now they choose her and she is powerless to resist.
I am almost ashamed to say that I can’t fathom my life so desperate that risking killing myself daily was my best attempt at happiness. Ashamed, because who am I to be happy. So many people the world over are so desperately unhappy. So many people are squandering their Easter weekends in the euphoria of opioids or the soothing company of alcohol. As a result, so many marriages are ending violently as mine thrives; so many children are being neglected or abused in the houses of my town and every other town across the globe, so many families and communities are being ripped apart by the sinister power of drugs and alcohol.
One friend who works on the local ambulance told us that drug overdoses, alcohol abuse and domestic violence has skyrocketed in surrounding communities in the past couple months, presumably due to continuous social and physical isolations. I don’t have much to add on this other than to implore you: if you’re feeling isolated and depressed please find a trusted person to help you, or begin new healthy habits and hobbies instead of cultivating brand new drug and alcohol addictions. And if you do find yourself locked in a routine of drug and alcohol abuse, don’t use opioids alone. And, please, find someone you love to take care of your kids before the government has to do that for you.
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