My name is Ashlee, and I am a person in recovery. This coming May, I will celebrate seven years in recovery from all mind-altering substances, God willing. I battled addiction for over 6.5 years. My addiction started with an eating disorder and became an addiction to prescription medication. I was prescribed pain medication for a medical condition. I was naïve and did not know that I would later become addicted to the medication I was being prescribed. A little back story, I grew up in middle TN and was the oldest of four siblings. I was raised by my mother and stepdad, who adopted me and has been the only dad in my life since I was two months old. Growing up, I always felt like I did not fit in and measure up to my siblings. I always felt like I was less than and would spend most of my adolescent life comparing myself to my siblings and others. When I was fourteen years old, I started to struggle with an eating disorder that would keep me sick for almost a decade. I was constantly seeking approval from others and trying to find validation anywhere I could. I was a problem child at home. I was disrespectful and would act out for attention. I attempted suicide in my teenage years and would leave my parents in constant worry about what I would do next. I started hanging out with a much older crowd and was introduced to marijuana and methamphetamine.
The first time I used I remember feeling what I thought was normal. No more racing thoughts, no more feeling insecure, and no more feeling like I did not fit in. At age seventeen, I moved out and in with a much older friend, and I went hard for about seven months using meth. I was working a fast-food job when my now husband came into my work, and we started our relationship. I have known him since high school, and we had been friends but had not dated at this point. Shortly after our relationship began, he took me to Mississippi to meet his dad. When we got down there, I realized I did not want to go back home to Sparta. I told him he could go without me or stay with me. I knew that if I went back, I would continue to let drugs run my life, and I did not want that. So, we stayed. Three months later, we married, and a few months later, I became pregnant with our first child. We decided we were in a place where we were ready to move back to TN and be around the family we had living here. So, we packed up and moved back.
After my first child was born, I started to experience problems with my ovaries and would undergo many surgeries to remove a large cyst. I was diagnosed with a condition called polycystic ovarian syndrome and endometriosis, and at times would be extremely painful. I was prescribed pain medication for the pain. After I had our second child was born, I had a terrible time trying to lose the weight I had gained, which triggered my eating disorder to spiral out of control. I would binge and purge non-stop until one day. I thought I had caused considerable damage to my esophagus and ended up in the emergency room. I was told I had a panic attack and was prescribed medication. After a follow-up with the doctor, I was put-on benzos and opiates. I had no idea my life would change the way it did. I took more when the pain would be too much, or the anxiety would not calm down, and I would find myself running out of medications early. The first time I experienced withdrawal, I did not know what was happening. I just knew I did not want to feel the way I was. I would buy or borrow medications from others to get by until I could refill my prescriptions again.
I was not an overly social person and, for the most part, stayed home with my husband and our child, but once in a while, we would have people over and hang out at the house. One evening we had friends over, and a friend of mine asked if I wanted to “snort” a pain pill. Until then, I had only taken pain pills by mouth, so I did not know that snorting them would alter how they made me feel. I said yes and did so. I believe that night was the event that kicked my addiction wide open. I remember thinking I never wanted to stop feeling that way. I felt normal again; I had energy and no pain. No physical and no emotional pain that I had been carrying with me for years. I would continue to “snort” my medication from that night on. Constantly seeking and trying to feel the way I felt that night and being unable to feel made me very selfish. I would continue to chase that feeling of not feeling anything at all. I would justify my actions with being in physical pain and blame the doctors for not giving me enough medication to get me through, so I “had” to get them off the street, and it was ok because I had a prescription for pain pills and benzos. I did not see or think I had a problem; I was not one of those people. It became a problem quickly. Every month, I would run out of medications and start to feel sick. I would become ugly to my husband and manipulate him into giving me money or taking things we owned and would trade them for pills to be able to wake up and just function. My family would give me a choice to go to rehab or lose their support. Still, I did not see myself as an addict. I did not have a problem. I was prescribed these medications for a medical issue. However, I went to rehab because my family wanted me to. I did not believe I needed to be there but would stay for the detox and return home. The pain and anxiety would take over, and I would go straight back to the doctor and start all over again. When our oldest was getting ready to graduate kindergarten, I made a choice to stop. I was sick of feeling like I had to take something every day. I went through withdrawals at home. It was horrible. I sat through my oldest child’s kindergarten graduation, going through opiate withdrawals. I refused to give in, though.
I made it through the worst and started to live life again. I got a home healthcare job and did not take opiates for over a year. One day while on the job, I fell and tore ligaments from both sides of the ankle bone and had to go to the emergency room. I was not in a recovery process then; I just didn’t use it. I thought I was ok. Then I was sent to an orthopedic, where I was put in a brace and back on opiates. It took one for me to feel that feeling again, and I was right back where I had been—overusing medication, not taking them by mouth, lying, and manipulating everyone to continue using. Years and years of constantly chasing the next pill to keep from being sick. Over time I would enter rehab many more times because my family would tell me that is what I needed to do. I would get right back out and go right back to doing the same thing. My life was unmanageable. My marriage was in shambles, my family did not want anything to do with me, and I couldn’t see why.My husband reached his breaking point and left. He left me with both of our children, thinking it would force me to do better. I did not know how to take care of myself. I had relied on my husband since I was eighteen. I spiraled out of control and started using intravenously. It took me to the pits of hell. I could not take care of myself: two kids and a 140$ day addiction. Days before our power was due to be shut off for non-payment, I started to panic. I was worried about my kids going without. My family wasn’t speaking to me, and I didn’t know where my husband was staying, so I did the only thing I knew to do. I sent my kids to school on the bus one morning, and after they left, I called children’s services myself and asked them to take my kids because I could not care for them. I gave them my husband’s number and hung up. I thought that was the lowest point in my life. I loved my kids, but I did not know how to be a mother in the shape I was in. Children’s services picked my children up at school that day and were able to place them in the care of their father that evening.
I did not see my kids for months after that morning. I would continue to use for a couple more months. I was trading every piece of furniture I owned, staying in a house with no power, and going days without eating and showering. I had lost all hope. My brother-in-law was at a faith-based program during this time and had reached out to me. He told me if I did not get help, I would die. I remember hearing so much life coming from him that day on the phone. He quoted Jerimiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you, plans for good, and not a disaster, plans to give you a future and hope” It hit me in my feelings. I wanted what he had. I wanted to be happy and in a better place. I called the faith-based program and did my intake there. They told me I could come in. I just needed to find a way there. My mother-in-law and father-in-law drove down to pick me up and take me. I was so sick and experiencing the worst withdrawals I had ever been through. I couldn’t keep water down for more than a few minutes. We went to church that evening after I got there, and I was running in and out of service to get sick. One of the program directors took me aside and told me I would be moving to the West Virginia location in the morning because they wanted to keep family separate. Since my brother-in-law was at the TN center, I had to be moved.
I remember feeling so mad. I just got to East TN and did not want to go. The director said they would take me to the boss’s stop if I did not go, and my family could pick me up. “Family?” No, my family was done with me; they were not coming. I knew if I left, I would die. I wanted to live. I wanted to stay. They took me down to the altar that night for prayer. I was so broken, lost, and just completely hopeless. The pastor grabbed ahold of me and asked me what I needed prayer for, and I just broke down. I told her I was an addict, and I was withdrawing. She started to pray over me, and I fell to my knees, weeping. I could not hold the tears. I felt so much guilt and shame from the life I had been living. I believe God worked a miracle that night in me. When I left the alter, I no longer was experiencing withdrawals, no more sickness at all. I can’t explain what happened to me that night, BUT GOD. God has restored so much in my life over the last six in a half years. The things I have been able to experience in recovery have been amazing. God restored my family. I got to watch my oldest graduate high school and be present for my youngest child’s ball games, and I get to be the wife God called me to be. Today, I am a huge advocate for the recovery community. I have my dream job now working as the Faith-based Community Coordinator with the Metro Drug Coalition. I get to educate the faith community about addiction and mental health and ways they can support folks like myself in recovery or looking to come into recovery. I never imagined my life would be what it is today.
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