I am convinced that my life has a purpose because I know I should have died a long time ago. I no longer believe in the word “Hopeless”. It is never too late to pick up the pieces and rebuild a life after so much destruction.

My name is Sheryl, I am a recovering addict. My DOC was hydrocodone, lots of it. My love affair with opiate painkillers began in the fall of 1997. I was married, to my 3rd husband, and little did I know that he had a problem controlling his temper. I had quit drinking just for him, I knew I was an alcoholic, but I never could quit just for me. Eight months into my marriage, I stopped and had a few drinks one day after work. I then went home and it didn't take very long for an argument to start between my husband and me. He hauled off and punched my in the face, breaking 4 bones in the right side of my face, and damaging the sinus wall. I didn't see a doctor for nearly a week, and when I did, he prescribed hydrocodone. I took one, felt sick at first, but was very glad to have pain relief. It only took a couple of weeks for me to realize that those pain pills made me feel real happy. I had battled depression for many years, trying several antidepressants with no relief. That may be because I was drinking a lot of booze with the antidepressants.

I left my husband a few months later, while my thirst for opiates greatly increased. The doctor also got me started on Valium® for my anxiety, and then I was really feeling no pain. And for the next couple of years, my lifestyle changed drastically. I went from being a responsible wife and mother to a reckless, promiscuous drunk, spending most of my time and all my money in bars. I lived to drink and pop pills. I entered rehab in March, 2000 for my alcoholism, and I am happy to say that I have remained booze-free ever since.

But those damn pills were another story. Another battle.

I found ways to get more and more, I doctor-shopped, I forged my prescriptions, and I ultimately found a connection on the streets. I never, ever thought, for a second, that I could end up buying Lortab® for $5 a pill on the street, going home with a different man every night and neglecting my sweet children. Two of the most wonderful kids on earth. But I did.

Until I met husband #4. We met at an NA meeting. At the time, I was in denial of my problem with the pills. I went there because AA meetings bored me. But I slowly began to realize that my life was pretty unmanageable. This man would become my hero. He was working a strong recovery program. Being clean and sober came before anything else in his life. But he did have room for me. I soon stopped using opiates. I did okay at first, but I did not stay clean for long. So I started going to the doctor again, and my addiction was again controlling my life. This is when I began lying to my partner. And stealing from him. I found ways to take money from him, I lied about my using, I kept going to meetings letting people think I was clean. I chaired many meetings, only if I was loaded, because that is how I had confidence in myself. And I was good at it, too.

The addiction just gets worse, in fact, it becomes potentially deadly. In November, 2003 I checked into drug rehab for 28 days. And I stayed clean for 11 months. The doctor I had in rehab put me on so many drugs, and I never felt normal. I eventually found a doctor who prescribed hydrocodone to treat depression. Oh how exciting that was! This doctor started me on 40mgs hydro daily, and increased my dosage to 50mgs in a very short time. I was getting prescriptions for 150 pills at a time! And I found ways to get more, by lying to my doctor, using every trick.

Finally, this doctor confronted me. He had grown suspicious; he wondered how I could be "losing" my pills so often. So, we decided to taper me off the drug. And I conceded that I was ready to do that. But, I could not taper. If I had a full bottle of pills, with instructions to take a conservative amount on a taper plan each day, I completely disregarded those instructions. Those pills wouldn't last 3 days.

So, I found an addiction doctor, he put me in rehab, and I soon began Suboxone® therapy. Only 2mgs at first, going all the way up to 36mgs within a week. I went home with a prescription for Suboxone and I cannot say enough that this medication is a miracle. It is my "magic bullet". I was very happy for several months; I had found a great new job. I was not having any cravings. And my marriage slowly began to improve. My children saw a different mom, and they like what they saw. But then, by Thanksgiving, the depression returned. By that time, I was taking 8mgs Suboxone daily, plus Prozac® and Wellbutrin® for depression. I am currently taking the same dosage of Suboxone and Wellbutrin, and we have ditched the Prozacin favor of Zoloft®.

I hate depression. And I fear it. I know depression was the core reason I became addicted in the first place. I have a new, healthy respect for my addiction; I cannot become complacent about my recovery. There was one time when I had to go a couple of days without Suboxone and the depression got much worse, not to mention withdrawal symptoms were beginning. I do know that Suboxone does ease my depressionsomewhat. But it's still not enough.

I am grateful to God for Suboxone, and for leading me to a doctor who is truly qualified, and interested, in helping me get well. I trust him completely and I am very happy that he trusts me, too. I had to earn that trust, also from my family. My husband's love for me just shines now, we are closer than ever. I just have to keep fighting the depression and anxiety. I feel it's holding me back from becoming everything I can be. I rarely leave the house, I panic when I do. I worry about something going wrong. I failed and lost so much during that period of time when I was so horribly hooked. I'm so afraid of losing again.

I love being sober, and I'll do anything to stay that way. I'll stay on Suboxone forever if I have to. Even with this depression, I do have a lot of hope that I will get well someday. And I'll be successful. And happy.