This blog's title is pretty self-explanatory, so I really don't feel the need to create a long, rambling introductory post. Then again, it seems a bit harsh to just jump into the nitty gritty details, especially when broaching the subject of addiction.
I suppose a little background information never hurts. The whole thing started innocently enough when I was prescribed painkillers for a medical condition. (This condition can be very painful and currently does not have a cure, and because of my addiction now I must endure its symptoms without sufficient pain relief. Go me.) The gory details of exactly how I went from a legitimate pain patient to a raving junkie will be revealed in later posts. (After all, it's all about the journey, not the destination.)
So, now you know that it all started at the doctor's office, not in some kid's mom's basement or out on the street. Does it really matter? No, not in the least. Addiction is addiction, period. I suppose I could sit here and try to blame my doctor for being so willing to hand out narcotics, but seriously, what else was he supposed to do? He had an intelligent, upstanding citizen before him that just wanted to be able to get out of bed and function each day. He supplied me with ample warnings about the addictive nature of the drugs. He monitored how much I was taking (to the best of his ability). When it was time, he set a weaning schedule and prescribed lower and lower amounts accordingly. It wasn't his fault that I blatantly ignored his advice and went behind his back to get more and more drugs.
Out of all the horrible and regrettable things that I have done in the name of addiction, I have never, ever blamed anyone but myself. No one shoved the drugs down my throat. In fact, everyone else was three steps ahead of me and tried to warn me about the dangerous path I was heading down long before I could see it myself. Unfortunately I am one of those people who has to learn for myself instead of from others' mistakes.
No comments:
Post a Comment