It was just three short years ago that I was smoking crystal meth and snorting OxyContin every day. I was completely hopeless and out of control. I had scars on my arms and legs from the cuts that I inflicted on myself just to be able to feel something. My life was spent dancing on a pole, letting men put their hands on me, just to be able to afford the next hit that I was going to take in the club’s bathroom. My body had just become a thing to me. Self-respect did not exist. Instead, it was replaced by a false sense of confidence that I exhibited to all those who came in contact with me. I hated my parents, my life, and myself. I thought I was crazy – bipolar, schizophrenic, manic-depressive, and every other thing I could self-diagnose by looking on the internet.
I thought that drugs helped me feel "normal." I didn’t realize that my problems and emotional distress went far beyond the drug use itself. The drugs were my comfort because they kept the other, more basic problems out of sight. On October 9, 2005, I hit that "bottom" that you hear addicts talk about. That moment is as fresh for me as yesterday.
That moment came when I was all alone, sitting in a hospital emergency room. I was covered in blood and looking through my cell phone for someone to come help me. I saw the other people in the ER all had family or friends with them. I had no one. None of the "friends" I had been getting high with for years would come help me.
I’d started bleeding heavily a few hours before. Just before I drove myself to the ER, I had crystal meth and OxyContin. In the ER, I found out that I was pregnant and miscarrying. I was so out of touch with reality that I didn’t even know I was pregnant. Because I was getting all my energy from the drugs, my weight was down to a skeletal 82 pounds.
For hours, the nurses monitored my hormone levels as I waited for my unborn child to die inside me. Finally, the doctor came in and let me know that the drugs I had taken had killed my baby. I hit the floor in utter panic. Trembling and hysterical, I called my mother. She didn’t believe anything I told her because, like a typical addict, I had been lying to her and manipulating her for years. That was the moment I hit bottom. Instead of calling anyone else to help, I turned my cell phone around and took a video of myself, makeup smeared down my face from crying. I told myself in that video, "Remember this moment." I kept that video on my cell phone for the next couple of years.
I left that hospital completely numb. I was slowly realizing that I had no clue what I was doing, who I was or what I wanted to be. The Emily I thought I knew was gone and had been replaced by this addict. I got home and lay in bed staring at the ceiling, trying to search for answers. Once again, I called my mom. I uttered the words "I am ready...I need help." Within the hour she had plane tickets for me to fly to her house. I left everything – my clothes, my car, my jewelry, everything, and made it to the airport, falling and trembling the whole way.
When I got to my parent’s home, they talked to me about going to Narconon® Arrowhead for a drug rehabilitation program. I really wanted help but I honestly didn’t think it was possible for anyone to help me. I thought I was meant to be this completely miserable person that I must have a chemical imbalance or some other thing that taking medication would cure. I couldn’t even hear the words of the people who were trying to convince me to get help; it was all gibberish.
My step-father finally got me to an airport to fly me to Oklahoma for the Narconon program. We got into a screaming match at the ticket counter but it wasn’t really me that was fighting him. It was just my hopelessness. He finally said, "Fine. I will buy you a plane ticket back to Louisiana but don’t you dare ever talk to us again because you are already dead and we are done." I realized that from the outside, someone could see just exactly how I was feeling on the inside. I had felt dead for many years but no one could ever tell. From that point, I begged him please to get me to Oklahoma.
From the time I entered the doors to Narconon Arrowhead, the real Emily started to come out of hiding. Now, three years later, I’ve made a complete recovery. I’ve been clean since that day in the hospital. I don’t have to carry the guilt around from those years any more because I’m now unbelievably happy, confident and healthy. I have formed relationships with my family that were not even possible before I started using drugs. I am a dedicated, responsible mother of a beautiful 20-month-old son. I have learned how to communicate and form meaningful relationships that don’t just dwindle down to nothing within a few months. I owe my life and happiness to Narconon and the methods it uses.
I just wish that other people who are caught in the trap of addiction could find the kind of help that Narconon Arrowhead gave me. There’s a portion of their program that uses a sauna and nutritional supplements to flush drug residues from the body and that helps eliminate the cravings. There’s counseling and life skills courses that help restore the self-respect that drugs destroy. It saved my life and the lives of the other people I met there. They can find that help by calling 1-800-468-6933 or at their website http://www.stopaddiction.com/.
Emily Fudge, Narconon Arrowhead Graduate, January 2006
If you know someone who needs help with drug or alcohol addiction or would like more information about the Narconon Arrowhead Field Representative program please call 1-800-468-6933 and ask for Mike Otto.
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