I Was Hooked on Opioids for Years. A Turning Point Changed My Life

My parents divorced when I was five. Being an only child, they did their best to provide for me.

There was no form of abuse during my childhood, but I was diagnosed with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) at the age of six. At that time, it was common practice to prescribe Prozac to children with OCD.

I was on Prozac by the age of ten. Although Prozac might have been beneficial for me at the time, the increasing number of medications I was put on was not the best approach for me.

Eventually, I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) and prescribed Concerta, leading to my exposure to stimulants.

The concept of taking a pill to improve one's mood was introduced to me at a very young age, so the beginning of my addiction story is not unique. Like many teenagers, I experimented, but the difference lies in the timing. In 2006, when I was 17, research was published suggesting that OxyContin was addictive.

I tried OxyContin for the first time when I was 14 with my friends, and we didn't fully understand what we were using. This was a common experience for many people, especially in South Florida where I'm from, as pill mills were big, and cheap OxyContin was readily available on the streets.

The first time I took OxyContin, I knew it was a painkiller. At the age of 14, I lacked the understanding that it was very similar to heroin and could cause physical withdrawal. Even the pharmaceutical company wasn't admitting how bad the addiction was until around that time.

At that point, I was still usually using drugs with other people, but I started hiding it during my freshman year of college. Up until that point, I was still very much a high-achieving student, taking AP classes, but I would still use drugs on the weekends.

I could only get drugs in South Florida, so I would come home once a month. Before I even stopped to use the restroom after my drive home, I would visit the dealer's house. I would bring back enough pills to last for a couple of days, during which I would be high the entire time.

During my first year, I wasn't physically addicted yet because being in school for three and a half weeks out of the month distracted me. It was when I went home that summer that I experienced my first physical addiction.

This was in 2008, a time when the economy was in a bad state. I couldn't find a job that summer and was working only one day a week at Blockbuster because the economy had collapsed.

That's when we started realizing the harsh reality of our futures. We were told to go to school, do well, get a degree in any field, and we would be okay. This turned out not to be true in 2008.

Being 19 and realizing that I wasn't going to have the life I was promised was a harsh reality.

I realized that I was addicted when I thought I had the flu. I woke up one day in 2009 feeling sick. I called a couple of people, and one of them said: "Oh, that's not the flu." So then I went and bought drugs, felt better, and realized that I was facing a real addiction.

I remember feeling scared. That's when I visited a detox and treatment center.

Before my final year of university, I had visited detox and treatment centers twice. In my experience, the treatment centers that I went to were terrible. They managed to detox me off the substance, but that was about it.

Rehab gave me time away from drugs, but I didn't learn anything. It cost a lot of money. I've been in treatment a few times and had varying experiences. Terrible things have happened to me while in treatment. This time, I was mostly just bored.

There were days we sat in a room on bean bags and did nothing. I've heard stories of women getting sexually assaulted by male staff as sometimes they haven't background-checked the overnight techs that have keys to all female rooms.

I was sober for a period that allowed me to finish university, but after I graduated, I continued to take drugs. Things progressively got worse, largely due to changes in the drug supply, which can be attributed to government actions.

We had an abundance of cheap OxyContin on the streets, but the government shut that down without providing any assistance to those who were dependent on it. Many people switched to street drugs.

So we ended up with low-quality opioid-based street drugs that weren't pills, like heroin, when people were used to high-quality pharmaceuticals. Then, more heroin started moving into South Florida. The government did not stop the importation of these drugs.

A significant part of why I got clean was the poisoning of the drug supply. The drugs were becoming more and more dangerous. Realizing that I was going to die not because of the drugs themselves, but because of whatever they were cut with, shook me.

I remember overdosing once in a bush. I had Narcan with me because the outpatient program I had just graduated from had given it to me. I had mentioned that in passing to a random guy I met on the street and offered him $10 to help me get some drugs.

After waking up in a bush, I realized that he used it on me.

Because of the pain in my head and my chest, my first thought was to get more drugs. That was a big indicator for me that something bad was going to happen soon if I didn't stop.

That guy didn't have to help me, he didn't even know me. Street life is a dog-eat-dog world, but those moments of real compassion stuck with me.

The turning point came when I was arrested again for possession of Xanax. I realized that if this charge stuck, I would become a convicted felon. There were already charges on my record, making it difficult for me to find jobs, but I wasn't a convicted felon yet.

I realized I had to act quickly. I decided I needed to go to a clinic.

I believe that Florida criminalizes drug addiction. We are one of the only states that makes it mandatory to unseal your record for professional licensing. In most states, it is illegal for these licensing boards to force you to do that.

That makes it extremely risky to take out student loans and spend years being educated. They will not decide your fate until you are at the very very end of the process.

Medicated-assisted treatment is a significant part of my story. I had to work to pay pretrial services fees. At this point, nobody was talking to me, except my girlfriend at the time, who is now my wife. She gave me a month's worth of fees for the very expensive clinic and wished me luck. I spent about a week trying to adjust.

I worked tirelessly for a couple of months and eventually was able to move into a small place. I finally had my own room and bathroom. Having spent so long in sober living places where I didn't have any personal space, this was a turning point for me. I needed my own little space where I felt safe.

During the initial year and a half of being clean, I encountered a few minor setbacks, but after that, I never reverted to daily or frequent use. I managed to maintain my employment and continue progressing.

I came across the IDEA Exchange Program at the University of Miami Miller School of Medicine in 2017. Ten years ago, Florida had no needle exchanges. It was almost inevitable that you would get Hepatitis C because you couldn't purchase needles from a pharmacy. I became a participant there and stopped chaotic use in 2019. I was offered a job as an Outreach Coordinator as part of the Community Engagement Team in September 2023.

I've always aspired to be part of a program like this, but I didn't think it was a possible career path for me because such a program didn't exist until 2016. Being part of this transformative program means a lot to me. I hope to assist others who are in the position I was once in.

I understand that you can't force someone to want to get clean. The landscape has changed now, it's much harder to get off these drugs than it was to get off pills or real heroin. It's not just about willpower when it comes to these drugs. The withdrawal is long-lasting and dangerous, unlike ten years ago when you could detox by laying on the couch for a week. It's not like that anymore.

This is Florida's first needle exchange program, which sets it apart. This is the first program I've ever seen or been a part of that meets people where they're at. That's what makes it so transformative. Instead of dictating a rigid path to recovery, it adopts a more comprehensive approach, considering the person and their circumstances.

For instance, if someone is HIV positive, we encourage them to take their medication even if they're not ready to get clean. We're seeing that people who are still using can maintain undetectable viral loads as long as they adhere to their medication. Our doctors are some of the most compassionate individuals I've ever met. It's a big contrast to how I was treated in the past.

Being part of this transformative program is deeply meaningful to me. I hope to help others who find themselves in the position I was once in.

I was lucky that my girlfriend—now wife—raised outside the Western world, didn't have a lot of preconceived notions about addicts that many people have. She didn't see me as a junkie, just as a person in front of her who had a problem.

When everyone else had given up on me, she gave me one last chance by paying my clinic fees for the month. She was an immigrant on an overstayed visa at the time, she had very little and she still gave to me, and it humbled me a lot.

Today, my parents credit her for keeping me alive, along with the online support group I am part of. I think hundreds of thousands of women in the U.S. had a similar starting point to me.

One of the things I never say is: "If I did it, you can too." That is not a motivational or inspiring thing to say. As hard as it was for me, I think it has gotten even harder now. Anyone who makes it out alive in 2023 is truly because of a miracle.

Emilie Ashbes is an Outreach Coordinator at the University of Miami Miller School of Medicine's IDEA (Infectious Diseases Elimination Act) Exchange, Florida's first syringe exchange program.

All views expressed in this article are the author's own.

As told to Newsweek's Associate Editor, Carine Harb.

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