I just read your article and felt I had to respond. I hope that you don’t mind. And I do not expect a response. I just want to impart a bit of knowledge or maybe it might be called wisdom. I don’t know, you decide.
I was a junkie for thirty years—exactly thirty years. The only time I did not get high within that time-frame was the one time I shot some bad shit and lay in a coma for three days (I lived alone). I woke up and found that I had vomited upon myself and soiled myself (if you know what I mean). Then I went out and copped some more shit, but from a different source—hoping I wouldn’t kill myself. That is how much of a junkie I was. I got high every day for 10,950 days.
I do not know if you are ever going to write about the subject again, but if you do, I thought I’d give you a little insight into addiction that was woefully lacking in your article. Not your fault. Here are a few things from the street level that I think you should know.
Here goes:
- Betty Ford: Who has $10,000 up front? Betty Ford was and is for the rich. The people in West Virginia ain’t ever gonna come up with that kind of dough. So, how relevant is a place like that? And most junkies I knew had no insurance. What about them? You may want to address that in your next article.
- Med-Assisted Treatment: I can only speak about methadone. I was on it for most of those thirty years. I was on it because I wanted to get high. Every single person I met at those “clinics” were there for the same reason. We wanted to get high. The people who ran those clinics were in it for one reason and one reason only. Money. It was a win-win. We got high, they got rich. Med-assisted treatment should be limited to thirty days. That’s it. For the sincere person who wants to get clean, it will help them over the hump. But the medication must be started at a small dose, just to keep the physical pain away. Then it must be decreased every day for thirty days. Then the poor sons-of-bitches have to be cut loose or else end up like I did. Addiction is 99% mental, which brings me to my next point.
- Rehab Does Not Work. All the rehab and intervention in the world will not work unless the individual is ready to get clean. Plain and simple, that’s it.
- Now on to My Favorite Subject, Me: After thirty years, I thought I’d die a junkie. Why not? It was my life. But then one bright morning, I woke up and decided I did not want to get high anymore. However, I knew that my body would quit functioning if I stopped cold-turkey. So, I devised a plan.
I had been on the methadone clinic for so long that I was allowed to come in only once a month, which meant I took home a month’s supply. I was on 110 mg at the time. My genius plan was to detox myself over a seven-month period and then walk away clean. No muss, no fuss.
I made a chart and planned out my campaign. I would decrease my dosage once a week until I was down to 5 mg. A piece of cake.
I stayed true to my schedule and the dosage went down every week. But still I got high. Man, did I love opiates! Then came the last week. I took my last pill and waited. Nothing happened. That was easy, I thought. Then, on the third day after stopping, I fell into the fetal position and stayed that way for about a month. I didn’t know that opiates stayed in your system for seventy-two hours.
That first month was hell. I can’t and won’t describe what I went through. Although one thing of interest is that I could actually feel my brain coming back online. The synapses in my brain started up once again. I felt the neurons passing signals to other neurons. It was a crackling sensation, like an electrical discharge.
I could not stand for more than a few minutes at a time. I had constant diarrhea. My body shook. I screamed out in pain. My torment ruled my life. But here is the most insidious thing about coming off opiates: You cannot sleep. There is no respite from your pain. It’s twenty-four hours a day of waiting for your body to get right. For the first month, if I got ten or fifteen minutes of sleep, that was a good night.
My mind was cool. I had decided to get clean and I was—in my head. My body just had to catch up. It took six months before I was somewhat human again. It’s been seven years and I’m still not right. I’ll never be right. I’ve destroyed my body in so many ways.
- Last point: With me, it is not one day at a time. I decided to get clean and I did. I have no desire to ever get high again. I do not yearn for it. I do not salivate if I see someone shooting up in a movie.
This is my take-away from all that shit I went through: When it’s your time to get clean, you’ll get clean. All the interventions in the world won’t do it. All the rehabs in the world won’t do it. Only you can do it.
I got clean at sixty years of age, and while I was in that fetal position and in indescribable torment, I started writing my first book. I have just published my fifth. I’m no Stephen King, but I’m making money from my writing and my books are well received. So please tell people there is always hope. But it’s up to them.
Thank you for listening to my rant,
Andrew Joyce
https://plus.google.com/+AndrewJoyce76/posts/C2M6oVxem5o
Touche!
Yeah, I like to yell at people.
I love unvarnished truth. Great job, Andrew.
My soul was rubbed raw. Everything about me is unvarnished.
Thanks for the wise and honest look at addiction. I’m glad you decided to stop getting high and write. I’ve read that social connection can help with addiction. Do you agree with that perspective?
I am sure love and support help many. But I was destined to ride my trail alone. It worked for me. I am of the mind that whatever works is good. I am also of the mind that rehab and interventions will not work unless there is a commitment from within.
Thanks Andrew. I agree about the person needing to want and commit to change. My father didn’t want to quit drinking so none of our actions or interventions made a difference.
A diamond in the rough is still a diamond. Shine on. (And rant on, too!)
I only shine when I’ve been drinking.
No one can hope to say it any better, Andrew! Pale or sharp the subject, you lend incredible wisdom without hyperbolic quasi-intellectual nonsense. Love and respect the candor in your writing! Thank you, and all best wishes…
Yeah … I gotta admit that I have a lot of wisdom. I’m so fucking smart that I tried, with a vengeance, to kill myself for thirty years. Actually, I’m still trying, but now with booze. Don’t worry, I’ll get there eventually.
Andrew, you have much courage. You did it the hard way and it stuck. I don’t think rehab is worth the money. Look at the recidivism rate! Unless, like you, the junkie is determined to change.
I’m a pussy. It was just my time to change my life.
I don’t believe that!
So glad you changed your life, Andrew! I worked many years in Alcohol/Opiate treatment centers as a nurse practitioner! I know your story well! In the end as you said, “There is always hope. It’s up to them.”’ Glad you put your raw, honest thoughts out there. I can see the ripple effect already! ? Christine
That’s why I posted it — for the ripple effect.
I lost some very dear people in my life to drugs. Left a big hole in my heart .. Thank you for sharing your story. I got tears in my eyes .. so glad you got out of that life. Happy Thanksgiving to you Andrew .. Take care ❤️ Ann Marie
Happy Thanksgiving to you!!!
This article is spot on, Andrew; in every detail. A must-share ♥
Thank you … Tina.
Thanks for sharing your journey. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. I quit smoking in 1999 and thought I would die. Of course there is no comparison but addiction steals your soul just the same. I’m glad you write, that is the perfect addiction. You write em, I’ll read them! ❤️
That’s a deal.
Bravo, Andrew.
I think you’re right with when you want to get clean you will get clean. So many have near death experiences, and lose so much, yet still do not quit until they’ve gone through all those terrible experiences and their perspective starts to shift, which it will eventually.
Perspectives do not always shift. Well, they do … but maybe not until a future life. I’ve known too many people that died still yoked to addiction. Still chasing that next high.
Thank you for sharing, Andrew. That is a very moving post.
And you are right about the decision having to come from you. As an ex-smoker, I can just begin to understand that fact. In spite of pressure from my then boyfriend, now husband, I didn’t give up until one day, like you, I said ‘That’s it.’
Of course, that’s nothing like coming off hard drugs, but it means some understanding of what you say about the decision must be your own.
Nicotine is the one drug I never put into my body. I don’t know if I could have stopped smoking. I mean, you can buy cigarettes on every street corner. Congrats to you!!!
Hi Andrew,
I can’t speak loudly enough on this post to acknowledge what it takes to open up and tell those innermost secrets of ourselves. Perhaps this is not the first time you have written openly about your addiction. WOW! This is a heart touching post and encouragement to anyone dealing with their personal demons.
If you haven’t guessed, I am a big fan of yours. Every time I read your writing in whatever format, I’m impressed with the simplicity, yet the depth of life you capture. Not only are you a great storyteller, you can take those experiences and enthrall the reader (at least this one). Your friend Annette Aben introduced me to your writing and I’m grateful. I’m busy with what I hope will be my third book, but I can’t wait to have time to read some of your earlier books. Thank you for sharing this piece of you. BTW I’m reposting this on my site too.
Thanks for being a fan … I ain’t got enough. None of us do. Good luck on your book. I never read a book while I’m writing a novel or else I wouldn’t get any writing done. So, I’ll forgive this time for not reading my shit. But as soon as your book is published, I expect a sharp spike in my sales rating on Amazon.
Yes Sir.
Mr. Andrew Joyce,
I have read your posts and have always ended with a smile and a twinge of envy (I know, 1 of the 7 Deadly Sins.)
Reading this post, I have gained more respect for you as a Man as well as a Gifted Writer!
Have you given thought of sharing your life with another “Danny”?
Best,
Mike Phelps
I expect to be dead in three days. My biggest fear was that Danny would out-live me (he got crazy when I wasn’t around) I can’t go through that again with another dog.
Reblogged this on Smorgasbord – Variety is the spice of life and commented:
And leaving you with a down to earth, no punches pulled post from a veteran of addiction, Andrew Joyce lays it out for us in bleak terms but with hope attached. He is 7 years clear of his addiction and is therefore fully qualified to talk about the subject. #recommended
Thank you so much, Ms. Spicy. And admit it … you are kinda spicy.
Great post. Hope it’s read by many. I know how it was for my nephew who went through the agony of coming off heroin. He’s now been clean for three years. It’s still tough.
Good for him. Tell him it only gets better. And tell him he’s damn lucky he got off the shit before it destroyed his body. Because it does and it will.
Very honest warts and all…..I have seen addiction first hand and it ain’t pretty…Me..never even take an asprin…but I am so single-minded and cussed I couldn’t be addicted to anything…maybe fudge…Seriously very well done Andrew and the biggest well done for telling how it is….If only one person gets clean after reading this it is a result….
Just Wowwwwwwwwww! The most honest and powerful message not only for addicts, but for those people who run these programs to realize the way to help. Kudos Andrew, I hope your message spreads wide and far. I know I’m sharing. 🙂
Thanks for sharing. Maybe it will help someone. I hope so.
I sure hope so Andrew. Thank you. 🙂
Well done on your decision Andrew and thanks for sharing the reality of addiction and making a decision to stop.
Hugs
Thanks for reading it.
This is powerful, Andrew. Our healthcare system is broken in so many ways, and treatment for opiate addiction is one of our worst failures. Your story of self-detox is remarkable. Becoming a writer at age 60 is no big deal because of course we people over 60 can do anything, right? But to make money doing it is another story…..LOL!
On the fifth day after stopping I couldn’t stand to watch or listen to the television. The insipid inanity (I know that’s redundant) hurt my head. Hence, I threw the damn thing out the window. Now remember, I was up 24 hours a day. The daylight hours weren’t so bad. I sat outside under a beautiful big oak tree and looked up into its green branches with patches of blue sky behind them, saying my mantra, I am clean, I am clean, I am goddamn clean!
However, the nights were a little tougher. I was supposed to be sleeping but couldn’t. So, to keep from going insane, I sat down at the computer and started telling (writing) stories. Doing that was just a way to pass the time until I could go out sit under my tree again in the morning. That’s how I became a writer.
What an amazing story. Are you planning to write a memoir?
I already did, but it was in the form of short stories that I interspersed throughout my book “Bedtime Stories for Grown-Ups.” Stories of fiction and nonfiction. The nonfiction are my stories. Getting clean was nothing compared to some of the adventures of my youth.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075V8XNTC
I just bought that book but I haven’t started it yet, but I’ll be delving into it soon.
Reblogged this on Stevie Turner, Indie Author. and commented:
Yes, absolutely true. Addicts will only stop when they themselves decide they do not want to be addicted anymore. Nobody else can do it for them.
Thank you for the reblog, Stevie.
You’re welcome.
Reblogged this on Jan Hawke INKorporated and commented:
Kudos, Andrew – I’m full of admiration for you! 🙂 Addiction becomes a part of your make-up, whatever you’re addicted to. And I know you’re right, because when you’re focused on your personal poison, in the end, you are always the only remedy, and the poison is still your nemesis.
Congratulations and very best wishes for keeping yourself clean and functional. 😀
Thank you for the thoughts and the reblog.
What an incredible inspiration you are, truly. <3
I wouldn’t say that. But if you want then that’s okay with me. (Just Kidding.)
Thank you.
Andrew,
I was a K-9 Handler (German Shepherd) in the USAF (Viet Nam). Since then, I have never been without a German Shepherd. On 14 August 2015, my Rico der Hunter III passed away. On 14 February 2016, I rescued Baron der Hunter !V.. On 6 February 2017, I lost him (cancer) as well. It has been 33 weeks and the pain is as fresh as if it were yesterday. I am getting close to rescuing another. However, last June my Godson rescued two 5 week old kittens . . . still . . . I NEED a German Shepherd. I am 74, so I know your logic of outliving your dog . . . but recent studies have shown having a dog (especially for old farts like us) gives us a longer life! I hope to read MORE of your posts . . . in FOUR DAYS!
Best,
Mike Phelps
Mike, I don’t usually “get into” others’ comments but I have to say something on this one….first, my sympathies on the back to back losses of your dogs…had to be so painful. “Replacing” pets (only so to speak) is not for everyone, and so I wish you well with your next rescue. Then I just wanted to say you made me laugh out loud with that ending…nicely played!
I really relate about your dogs. I know exactly how you feel.
Thanks.
To Emily Gmitter,
Thank you for your response. I had intended to post my reply to Mr. Joyce on my WordPress ‘MichaelPhelps1 Blog’ – but since I know nothing about Blogs or Blogging, it somehow ended up on my David Janssen website – that’s okay too. Thank you for your kind words! I PRAY ALL (each and every one of the millions) of ANDREW JOYCE FANS will read HIS next post in FOUR DAYS!
I hope all will have a nice Thanksgiving Day . . . and for those outside the U. S. of A., we all have something to be Thankful for, each and every day of the year. Just to mention one, ANDREW JOYCE’s prolific, humorous, inspiring, informative WRITING.
Best to all,
Mike Phelps
Damn you. It’s been almost four days. You’ve called my bluff!!!!
Thank you.
Reblogged this on The Life & Times of Zoe the Fabulous Feline and commented:
I was remiss in just liking and not reblogging … or my human distracted me. She must have pushed me off the laptop, yeah, that’s it! Important message from my favorite indie author.
Happy Thanksgiving Mr. Unvarnished. I am thankful that you chose to join the land of the living – so that we would be further blessed by your written words. Thank you.
xx,
mgh
The whole time I was addicted, I kept away from old friends. They would reach out to me, but I ignored their entreaties. Right after I got clean, I sent out an email to two of my closest friends from my youth who I had ignored for many years. (I had to do a lot of research to find their email addresses. Thank God for Facebook.) Both emails said the same thing: “Just crawled outta my grave … thought I’d say hello.”
Happy Thanksgiving to you, Madelyn.
Wow Andrew. The fact that you can come up with gratitude for Facebook is a testament to the horrors of addiction all by itself! 🙂
Cheers, Andrew. Do your best to enjoy Thanksgiving dinner with your neighbor – lol.
xx,
mgh
Funny!!!
🙂
xx, mgh
FOR YOU, ANDREW, AND YOUR GROWING LEGIONS OF FANS, I WISH YOU ALL A VERY HAPPY THANKSGIVING . . . AND LOOKING FORWARD TO YOUR NEW POST ON FRIDAY, ANDREW.
Humbly, I say, thank you.
Loved your story! And can totally relate .
Takes one to know one. Thanks for stopping by.
Thank you for sharing what you went through. I am an addiction counselor and i agree the person has to want to get clean. As a counselor, we try to elicit change talk and build motivation but it is ultimately up to the person. Due to the opioid crisis soon where i work they will begin dispensing buprenorphine. It is anticipated that there will be a lot to learn and deal
with. However, i look forward to supporting and helping those who struggle hopefully get clean!
Keep up the good work …
Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:
WORTH THE READING OF!
Thank you for the reblog.