storiesofmebyme

[storiesofmebyme]

08/06/22

I’ve always wondered if you will wake up and know this is the day i'm going to die. The answer is no. If you care enough to listen there are definitely signs but you'll never see them through the tunnel vision of temptation. Not until you wake up and have no choice but to face it. The raw, ugly, bitter truth my addictions just won.

I remember it so vividly for someone who was unconscious (dead) for a majority of the experience. He hit it first, seemed so high but fine, right? I pondered the consequences of fentanyl and what I was doing. Too bad the high is right in my hands and I could never say no. Thanks to my bestie, temptation. I cared about what was going to happen to me but not more than I cared about feeling sweet bliss. So I hit it again. Black.

First, I felt the mask on my face, helping me breathe. I’m barely conscious, not awake enough to open my eyes, or speak, or fight. Just enough to know exactly what was happening. Back to black.

Then it happened, my eyes opened. Surrounded by dozens of paramedics and police. Faces everywhere. My heart sunk, hard. I can't describe the absolute shame that flowed through my body. The first words said, “Megan, you just died.” Talk about heart sinking. I just died? What The Fuck. I’m not sure what i thought overdosing meant but god damn that hit. So there I was, laying on a nasty concrete basement floor covered in sweat and shame. Rock bottom is a mother fucker i can tell you that.

The paramedics said “you just overdosed and died” several times before I had anything to say. Finally, I apologized enough times in 60 seconds to set a record. I asked for my phone to call my mom before i could even get the words out a male police officer says “you’re phone is in evidence.” It was like he was just waiting for me to ask so he could inform me of my first punishment. Finally, they ask if i want to go to the hospital and if i can get up. I asked if i should go, while this answer seems obvious, remember im still disoriented. The paramedics wasted no time making me feel less than “i mean you just died so yeah i would go” Well jesus fuckin christ lets get in the ambulance and go then. So, I leaned forward to get up, all i can say is fuck owowowowowow. My chest feels like a stampede just ran across me. All they had to say is “Is it just your chest that hurts? Thats because we just did cpr to save your life.”

I get that thank you so much, a warning would have been nice regardless. So here i am again surrounded by medics and police officers watching me wince in pain struggling to get up. Finally an absolute angel of a lady reaches out her hand. A hand i really fucking needed. I held her hand the whole way up the stairs. I was scared and so alone. With no way to contact anyone I love.

We got to the top of the stairs and I was completely winded so I stopped and said “I need help.” Something I genuinely never ask for because I know better. A plea that had gone ignored for far too long.. What do you know some stupid fucking male paramedic says “were gonna get you some help.” HA what a fucking epitome of my life. So I picked myself up and carried myself out just like always.

Now we're walking out of the house Grant says “I’m so sorry megan”

I didn't say a word. I just walked down the driveway looking at the ground while neighbors watched. Finally, I climbed into the ambulance. At Least I’m not surrounded by people anymore. Then the paramedic unknowingly in the ambulance asked two of the most awful questions he could come up with. The first “how old are you”

“23”

“arent you a little young to be doing this”

Listen bud, i appreciate it but no it was “too young” when i was 14 addicted to adderall and smoking dope by 15. Then he also had the nerve to ask “did you know other girls have died at this same house” yes. Yes i fucking did] they were my friends. I cant understand why i got a chance that they didnt. Why me? Why.

We get to the hospital and they're rolling me to my room and all i can think is this isnt real. There's no way I am getting wheeled on a bed to a hospital room. Damn i really fucked up this time, bad. We get to the room and they have me switch beds. My chest is on fire btw, some of the worst pain I have ever been through. Lets just say for health care professionals they were less than patient and empathetic. More like judgmental and degrading. The paramedic started telling the nurse what had brought me to the hospital. When the paramedic explained the severity of what had happened. I hear him say “ No she was in cardiac arrest for two minutes. She was did not have a pulse when we arrived.” This BITCH the nurse goes “oh Woooow.” Are you fucking serious? I’m in the

middle of understanding and accepting what has happened - alone- and this bitch says woooow?? Hell no find a new profession this one is not for you.

Unfortunately for me that was my nurse for the visit. Fml the punishment really fuckin showed up from the moment i woke up. So the nurse comes back and puts all these stickers all over me to check my heart. They were all over my chest and back. Knowing how many unwanted people had touched me that day made me sick. To the core. The person who gave me cpr was a man.. A man touched my lifeless body. Gross gross gross.

The rest of my hospital visit was really a blur. I woke up and asked for a blanket and the same bitch nurse says “but you’re sweating.” Alright bitch you really need a new job you’re a nurse thats never heard of cold sweats??? Come on now. Everytime i woke up i would ask to call someone literally anyone. I was so done being alone at this point. I needed to tell my family. I needed to tell everyone i loved so i could start feeling better asap. This wasnt a guilt a was willing to live with and I was ready to face it immediately. I knew i would disappoint so many people with my news but I knew they needed to hear it from me.

After many hours in the hospital I’m able to finally call my mom. At the time this is all I truly wanted. I knew my mom was going to make me feel safe. Of course she immediately burst into tears. Little did I know she was on her way back from Chicago and still hours away. So next best option is my grandma.. Oh god my grandma.

I’ll be honest my grandmother is not a quick person never has been a day in her life. She showed up to that hospital, fast. A blessing and a curse. She brought me comfort but it was immediately gone when she started asking for every detail. With every “She overdosed” “She died” and “She's very lucky” i felt my heart go deeper into my stomach. As I realized this is the beginning of alot of disappointment... How did I let myself get here?

Once my grandma was there I was nice and awake. Feeling every emotion deeply, painfully. Then a nurse half mentioned discharge and every emotion turned to anger and annoyance. I was ready to go. Clearly I was ok at this point I wanted my dogs and my bed. Mostly my dogs - my only real safe space. So they

unhooked me from the IV and went to get the discharge papers. I stood off angrily ripped all those little fucking stickers off of me and left.

The ride to my house was surreal. I called everyone immediately important to me and let the rest wait. My dogs were safe, my work dogs were safe and so far no one absolutely hated me. To me that meant i could finally start making peace with what i had done.

I got home and went to bed. And thats all i did for days. I just slept.

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