JANUARY 22, 2016, KEIZERTIMES, PAGE A7
HEROIN,
continued from Page A1
Heroin is a liar. She lies to
families.
She tells them, “It won’t
happen to my family.” “My
child/mother/father/sibling/
friend would never do
something like that.” “I have
to give them money or they’ll
die.” “I’m keeping them alive by
providing somewhere for them
to live.” “If I set boundaries,
they will hate me forever.” “It
hurts me too much to see them
in pain, so I’ll enable them to
continue to use.”
She also lies to the person
using.
She says things like, “I’m not
as bad as them.” “I can control
this.” “I’ll only try it once.” “I
can’t live without it.” “I deserve
to live like this.” “Nobody
understands what I’m going
through.” “I can’t live without
it.”
Heroin lied to me. Heroin
lied to my friends and my
family. I can only speak from
experience, so here is my story
of becoming a prisoner and,
thankfully, breaking free.
So why try it?
At fi rst it was a test, a sample,
a “who cares, why not?”
moment based on a belief that
dependency and addiction
couldn’t happen to me.
Besides, why worry about
your life, consequences and
eventual, long-term effects
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when you don’t really care
about yourself anyway?
I was not lacking knowledge.
I was not lacking support. I
was not lacking a plethora of
accomplishments,
academic
achievements and superfi cial
successes.
I came from a good family.
I was lucky enough to live in
a nice house, in the nice part of
town, with a family who loved
me and provided more than I
needed. We had a boat. We had
a cabin. We had a hot tub and
a fi re pit and a gigantic TV. I
had a collection of designer
clothes and pretty little things.
I was not lacking anything on
the surface.
So what was I lacking?
I was lacking the ability
to think ahead, to weigh
the decisions I made against
the consequences. But most
importantly, I was lacking self-
esteem, self-awareness and self-
worth.
I didn’t know who I
POT,
continued from Page A1
U-Haul over near Lockhaven
and McLeod Lane NE.
According to a release from
the KPD, Goodman could
smell the overwhelming odor
of marijuana coming from
the van as he encountered
Nicholson. Nicholson told
Goodman he had more than
a pound of marijuana in the
was. I didn’t understand the
underlying issues that were
contributing to my perpetual
feelings of gut-wrenching
agony and unhappiness.
I wasn’t lacking self-centered
thinking and a desperate desire
to escape my reality.
Inside I was dying, and
what’s worse, I didn’t know
why. I needed to fi nd a fi x; I
needed to fi nd a cure for the
pain.
She fi nds me
When I was introduced to
heroin, I found a way to self-
medicate that had the potential
side effect of death, which was
honestly my passive intention. I
found a slow way to kill myself
– an easier, softer way to go
away.
But initially, the decision
to try it was impulsive and
without much thought.
I thought, I can try it once.
I’ll be fi ne.
Upon my fi rst ingestion I
was catapulted into an alternate
universe where all of the
sudden, everything was going
to be okay.
My body was fl ooded with
warmth and contentment.
Nothing scared me anymore.
All my fears disappeared and my
worries and cares and feelings
were completely eliminated.
I was numb to everything,
vehicle with him.
Technically,
Nicholson
was accurate because he did
indeed have more than a
pound of marijuana with him
– 77 pounds, to be exact.
Goodman found Nicholson
was transporting six large
plastic bags fi lled with useable
marijuana. Nicholson told
Goodman he’s a grower for the
Oregon Medical Marijuana
program and provided his
Oregon Health Authority
Grower Identifi cation Card.
which was exactly what I
wanted.
I thought, I want to do that
again.
“It doesn’t
have to be
the end.”
And thus, the imprisonment
began. I was tied to Her, a
beautiful
seductress
who
whispered in my ear: “You
need me. I take away your pain.
You want me. Come visit me
again.”
And I did. Again. Again.
Again. Again. Again… Again….
Again…
The destruction of
things worthwhile
I shattered my family’s trust.
I shattered what was left of
my identity. I lost everything
superfi cial,
everything
worthwhile, everything I loved
and my interest in basic needs
like food, shelter and water.
My family decided, very
intelligently, to stop enabling
me and kicked me out of their
house. They refused to support
me as I killed myself.
I didn’t care. I rode my bike
around with my belongings on
Nicholson also noted he was
transporting the marijuana to
a location for extraction and
processing.
During a search of the van,
offi cers found a loaded semi-
automatic .32 caliber handgun
concealed in the cab area in
addition to the bags fi lled
with useable marijuana, all of
which were seized.
Nicholson was arrested
without incident for unlawful
possession of a fi rearm
and
unlawful
possession
my back, caring about only one
thing that consumed my mind
completely, obscuring my sight,
creating tunnel vision that led
to one thing:
Her.
I ran out of money. I
overdosed. I lost everything I’d
worked so hard for – college,
transportation,
fi nancial
security and, above all, my
relationships. I lost it all. Her
power made none of it matter.
Saving grace
By the grace of whatever
power is out there, my family
(bless them) intervened and
I was removed from Her
clutches. I am proud to say I
haven’t used heroin in 1,292
days and I never plan to do
so again. I escaped Her power
and found another as of July 8,
2012.
In the time between then
and today, I have seen countless
other people who were bound
by addiction recover. I have
also seen beautiful, kind, joyful,
hilarious, sweet, dear souls lose
the battle and move on to
whatever is waiting for us on
the other side.
I want everyone to know
that it is not impossible to stop.
Heroin is a liar. Don’t believe
her. Don’t get involved with
her. And if you already are, I
promise, I promise, freedom is
out there. You can be freed.
I was freed. People with
more diffi cult circumstances
and less advantages than me
have been freed.
It doesn’t have to be your
demise. It doesn’t have to be
the end.
To families: I am so sorry
for the pain that comes with
battling a loved one’s addiction.
There is support out there for
you, too. There is always hope.
To everyone: Stop believing
heroin's lies. You are worth
much more than anything she
could ever offer. Hope is not
lost. Help is out there.
of marijuana or marijuana
product.
He was also issued a
citation for speeding and was
transported to the Marion
County Correctional Facility.
According to state law,
useable marijuana means the
dried leaves and fl owers of
the plant Cannabis family
Moraceae and any mixture or
preparation thereof that are
appropriate for medical use
as allowed under state statutes.
Useable marijuana does not
include the seeds, stalks and
roots of the plant.
Each of the six bags found
in the U-Haul were weighed
and determined to be more
than 77 pounds.
KPD deputy chief Jeff
Kuhns said that’s the largest
haul of marijuana he can
recall in his 27 years with the
department.
Anyone with information
about this incident is asked
to contact Goodman at 503-
390-3713, extension 3470.
My solution
stops working
Soon, heroin’s “healing”
magic lost its power. I needed
more and I didn’t have a way
to get it. Fortunately, I didn’t
have to resort to means that
many people who are trapped
in Her sickening cycle of self-
destruction and complete
dependence have to do to stay
well.
But only by the grace of
something bigger was I spared,
because I was no better and no
different than them. I would
have gotten there quickly,
because I would have done
anything for Her. But I was
spared. I received help; I was
given another chance.
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