In Recovery

Hello, my name is Richelle and I’m an alcoholic and addict. I’ve been clean and sober since September 5, 2006. Because of that, today I get to be a mother, a daughter, a wife, a sister, a friend, and so many other things. Before getting clean- I had all of those labels & wore them proudly, but honestly didn’t even know what those words meant. I am also a pharmacist. I was ‘introduced’ to sobriety as a direct result of my physician reporting me to the State Board of Pharmacy. I became involved with the Pennsylvania Board of Pharmacy approved program that facilitated my recovery. Because of that program I am able to practice as a pharmacist today, but only giving it credit for that is minimizing its effect on my life. Truthfully, the physician that reported me, the State Board of Pharmacy & their program saved my life. By some standards, my bottom was high- I had just moved in to a brand-new house, I had a lot of ‘stuff’ - the status symbol purses, cars, clothing, toys. I was still married (barely), and on the outside, presented pretty well. Things were falling apart fast, but on paper I could still make it look good. But inside I was in a death roll and I wasn’t far at all from losing the ‘tangibles’ that allowed me to rationalize I didn’t have a problem. But let me rewind for a few moments, because if I never had that first one, I would have never travelled down the road that led me to addiction. I had a wonderful childhood, my parents are high school sweethearts and still married today, my brothers are very successful (& normal), I have no hidden trauma or terrible circumstance that later caused me to abuse substances. I think I was just born this way. At an early age I loved to read, I read like I later drank. I lost myself in books, saying i would do my chores in 1 more chapter and the next thing I knew the book was finished and it was dark and I hadn’t done what I was supposed to. I always had a book with me & usually had an ‘emergency book’ as well- just in case I finished to one I was reading. I was always reading. Always. Reading was the first escape I ever had. What was I escaping? I guess it was the feeling of being me. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with being me, I just liked being someone else better. I read voraciously, incessantly. And that was ok, I was smart, my grades were good and reading isn’t really a bad habit. I had my first drink the summer I was 15 and didn’t touch it again for an entire year. My last 2 years in high school there was a good bit of drinking and a good bit of insanity. The group of boys my friends and I ran with were rough. They were a group of jocks and hanger ons and we did some pretty stupid stuff. But my friends and I were ‘good girls’. We were the top of our class academically, Student Council, activities, driven, leaders. And no one payed that much attention to us, because we were doing everything else right. In retrospect, the group we ran with was doing too much too soon and that is evident by the number of ‘old friends’ that are no longer living, in active addiction, serving time & some of the lucky ones, are in recovery. I graduated from high school and went to college. I was accepted to pharmacy school. I was active in a social sorority and had fun. I drank successfully in college - I wasn’t a teetotaler but wasn’t a lush either. Sometimes things got out of control but I was able to reel them back in. I loved alcohol, I drank every opportunity I could. When I got in some kind of trouble, alcohol was always involved. I was vehemently opposed to illegal substances and drug use, ‘Don’t you know I’m going to be a pharmacist?’, but I was always down for a drink.   After graduation I moved and started my career. I became involved in a relationship with a man in emergency services. He worked 24 hours on and 48 hours off. And I hated it. I hated being alone those 24 hours. I was bored, I was lonely, I was homesick. And it started with a glass of wine in the evening, then it was 2 glasses, then I was buying the big bottle because those skinny bottles are really only 2 and a half glasses if you pour them right. Then it was the box of wine. And one night you find yourself sitting on the floor in the kitchen, cutting the liner out of the cardboard box of wine and trying to get those last few drops out because you forgot to get another box and the one you have is empty. And that’s addiction. Its a series of small steps in a direction that you don’t really even see as movement, and before you know it, there you are, in a completely different spot than you started out in. And it progresses. I had a medical condition that my physician gave me medication to treat, it wasn’t too long before I was abusing those. Then I was mixing booze and pills. And then one night someone put a line of cocaine in front of me and I tried it. The person that had been so opposed to illegal substances she threatened to call the cops on her roommates for smoking weed in college didn’t even hesitate. And that was it. Things unraveled rapidly from that point. Six weeks later I was in the hospital after an overdose and my physician was telling me exactly what had showed up on my toxicology test and that he was turning me in to the State Board of Pharmacy before I killed someone. And while I still didn’t think I had a problem, didn’t think what I was doing was abnormal, didn’t think ‘they’ knew what they were talking about- I did what they told me to do because I didn’t want to lose my pharmacy license forever. For me, it was a gradual process of lights turning on. Realizations here and there, fog clearing and moments of clarity allowed me to see I had a problem and then believe it. It was a process and sometimes painful. But my life started to get better, my marriage began to improve, my world began to expand. Because of my experience, I believe in the 12 Step programs, because for me, that’s what worked. But I’m a health care professional, and I know that very few medical conditions have only one treatment. I recognize that what works for me doesn’t work for everyone and I accept sobriety anyway you find it. I don’t care if its through a church, therapy, a 12 step program of with Medication Assisted Treatment, I believe the answer lies in changing from the person that uses substances to live to someone that can live without mind altering substances. For me I believe in abstinence, but I recognize that for some, harm reduction is their goal. I think there is too much debate on the ‘right’ way to treat addiction and too much focus on what doesn’t work. I don’t spend my time worrying about what doesn’t work for someone else, I just pray that they find the path that does work. If they want to try my way, I will help them. If they want to try something else, I will direct them to where they need to go without judgement. My life has improved dramatically as the result of working a 12 step program for the past 15 years so I believe in it and will continue on that journey. In the beginning I lived on the phrase ‘Do the next right thing’. I was such a disaster I couldn’t make a right decision if you handed me one and told me to copy you. However, when I broke it down into small, tiny segments of ‘just do the next right thing’, I could handle that. Do I make a left at this intersection and go to a bar or do I make a right and go to the commitment I made? The next right decision was to make a right. I lived like that for a long time. Sometimes I still do. When I feel overwhelmed, I’ve learned to just break it down to what do I have to do NEXT. Don’t look at the big picture, it can be scary, look at this little piece and see what is there. My parents taught me right from wrong, they gave me morals. I’ve learned that the majority of the time, I know the next right thing to do and when I don’t, I’ve learned to ask for help. Today, I think there is still too much stigma attached to addiction. For that reason, I live my life openly. I can’t reduce stereotypes and stigma if I’m not willing to share my past. My past is my greatest asset. I am not that person anymore but its ok that I was and I share that. No one should feel ashamed that they have addiction in their life - either through a family member or themselves. It’s a disease and it thrives on being a secret. When we are afraid to share our struggles we suffer alone, our secrets keep us sick. But when I bring my secret out into the light, I’ve found I’m not the only one and there is power in numbers.   To the mothers- It is not your fault. We are not your fault. You did nothing wrong. You didn’t cause our addiction. Please don’t let our addiction destroy you. Take care of yourself and get yourself help- find a therapist, a priest, pastor, reverend, rabbi, holy man, a 12 step program and don’t try to deal with this alone. When we are using, we will lie to you and not know we are doing it. Don’t trust us and don’t give us the benefit of the doubt. But don’t stop loving us. It’s ok to be mad at us, to hate us, to need a ‘break’ from us. You are not alone. Share your story. Yes, some folks will judge you, but there will be more people that will share with you. They will share their stories, their loved one, how they’ve been touched by addiction. You see, there are more of ‘us’ then you realize. And the more light we shed together, the more power we have in this battle.

We love you. .