Breaking the Stigma of People in Recovery

I’ve hurt people, but I’m not masochistic. I’ve stolen things, but I’m not a thief. I spent 5 years in active heroin addiction, but I didn’t throw those 5 years down the drain. I’m an addict, but I’m not a bad person. The people I have hurt give me an opportunity to experience love and to grow into a loving person. The things I’ve stolen give me an opportunity to give back to others and the community whenever possible. Most importantly, the 5 years I spent using heroin gave me the opportunity to use my voice to shatter the stigma that surrounds addiction and help save lives.

I grew up in a suburban neighborhood where every house looked the same. They were constructed of the same color bricks, the families were all made up of wealthy parents and beautiful children. My parents were successful and my sister is a scientific genius. For the longest time I was obsessed with becoming just like them. Happy, wealthy, and successful.

I put an enormous amount of pressure on myself to maintain an outer appearance of perfection, but I could never live up to my own expectations. I suffered from anxiety and panic attacks because I struggled to reconcile the fact that I wasn’t meeting these expectations. Today I know that nobody is perfect, and that’s what makes us unique, but as a young girl I didn’t want to be unique – I wanted to be perfect.

At the age of 14 I found that dabbling in drugs and alcohol would settle my anxious nerves and put my mind at peace. When I was under the influence, I felt like I could do anything. I was invincible. I had no idea at the time that what made me feel invincible would utterly destroy my dreams.

The progression of my addiction occured so rapidly that I was using heroin daily by the age of 17. I hadn’t even graduated high school yet, but I knew how to stick a needle in my arm and sink into oblivion. At the time, however, I was miraculously still a good student and was given a full ride scholarship to study Chemistry at a university. Upon receiving this scholarship, I swore to myself that I would put the drugs down and sober up once I got to college.

That day never came. When it was early enough in my addiction for me to quit on my own, I was terrified of judgement from others. I didn’t want to be thought of as a failure. Nobody in my family ever suffered from addiction, they wouldn’t understand. I was embarrassed and ashamed. By the time I actually wanted to quit, I was too dependent on heroin to get through the day.

I ended up getting arrested on campus as a direct result of my drug use. I lost my scholarships, but more importantly, my family and friends now knew that I wasn’t this perfect, smart girl I was pretending to be. I was a drug addict. I was out of control. I didn’t want help. I wanted to be left alone with my drugs. Any amount of ambition that I once had was no longer apparent. I continued to get high despite any consequences I faced.

After all the people I hurt emotionally, all the money and items I stole, and all the damage I had done to my body, I eventually lost the desire to live. The last time I got high, I promised myself that if this dose didn’t kill me I would go to rehab.

Waking up from my last overdose, I made the phone call that saved my life to the one person who would still answer my phone calls – my mom.

She helped me get into detox, where I was tapered off of opiates and set up with an aftercare plan. I completed treatment at an inpatient facility where I stayed for three months and was taught relapse prevention tools in order to maintain my sobriety.

When I got out of treatment, I spent the first year of sobriety living in a halfway house surrounded by other women who were working towards the same goal as I was. It was difficult in the beginning. We were told to get a job but many of us hadn’t worked for periods of time and our resumes looked bleak. On the other hand, we were fearful to tell employers the truth about why, because many people look at addicts in a negative light.

In recovery, we are told to be honest. Due to the stigma that surrounds addiction, there were times when I felt forced to be dishonest. When I went to my first job interview and was asked “why did you move to Florida?” I made up some ridiculous lie. I was terrified to tell the truth and be judged.

When I applied for my first apartment, I had over a year sober, but my rental history was slim to none. Landlords took one look at my application and denied me. I never felt comfortable being honest with them, saying, “I understand your concern, but I am doing everything possible to better myself and stay sober.”

I can honestly say that some of the best people I have ever met are those I met in recovery. The friends I have today will answer the phone at any hour of the night. They will loan you their last $20 if you need it. They show up when others don’t. They have taken enough in the past that today, their intentions are to give selflessly to others, and it is a beautiful thing.

Due to the struggles people face in early recovery, my goal today is to speak out whenever possible, about addiction and recovery. Not only do I want to spread hope to those who are hurting, but I want to educate others about the reality of addiction as a disease. I want to be an example of how people in recovery have the ability to blossom into productive, inspirational members of society. The more addiction and recovery is spoken of, the more the stigma can be broken. Breaking stigma saves lives, and if I can help one person in recovery each day, my job has only just begun.

Author: Cassidy Webb

Avid writer from South Florida. She advocates spreading awareness on the disease of addiction. Her passion in life is to help others by sharing her experience, strength, and hope.

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