Addiction is more than just the statistics we read about in the news. This series of articles about participants from the Fulton County Drug Court is meant to illuminate the human faces behind the numbers. They are all part of our Fulton County family, and they are moms, dads, sisters, brothers, daughters, sons. This is the next article in the series that features the story of Jarred, as told to by Carol Tiffany, Program Coordinator.
My name is Jarred, and I was born and raised in a small town in Williams County. I never thought I would become a drug addict, and it was never one of my future goals, but it became my reality.
This is my story. My childhood was normal, but I was raised in a very strict environment. The discipline from my parents was inconsistent, and I felt I was walking on eggshells every day.
I never knew what kind of mood they were in. In order to deal with the unknown, I learned to “read” people and could react accordingly. My behavior became what my parents wanted instead of who I really was or wanted to be.
I remember being very shy when I was six. I had difficulty talking to people due to my extreme anxiety so I kept to myself.
I had few friends, and my parents didn’t let me have much freedom. When I was twelve, I found something that gave me the confidence and identity I desperately wanted; drugs.
Alcohol and drugs made me the person I wanted to be. I finally had friends and was able to talk to people and have fun. Most of my friends also smoked weed, so of course, I joined them.
When I was thirteen, my mom divorced my stepdad. She felt sorry for me because my childhood had been so strict and isolated.
To make up for it, she allowed me a lot of freedom and was lenient, but it turned out to be a mistake. All through junior high and high school, I just got high or drunk with my friends. When I was fourteen, I was charged with underage possession of alcohol.
At age fifteen, I started hanging out with an older crowd in their twenties, and it made me feel important. I had a reputation of going hard on every substance I ever used. I guess I was respected by my new drug friends.
I ramped up my usage with harder drugs to fit in with the new crowd. My freshman year I was doing coke, acid, mushrooms, alcohol, and weed. If I didn’t have weed to smoke in the morning before school, I wouldn’t go.
Eventually, I had to go to court for truancy, but it turned out to be just a warning for additional charges if I didn’t attend school. However, the school never followed through with any consequence, so I went back to drugs not school.
My junior year in high school I attended Four County Vocational School but dropped out and went to the Opportunity Center where I worked independently to earn my diploma.
I almost graduated, but I was lazy and my drug use was more important. Mom was always gone in the morning to work, so she never knew I wasn’t in school until it was too late.
I was kicked out of the Opportunity Center and never earned my diploma. Honestly, this hurt me a lot, but it was not enough for me to make positive changes in my life. Drugs were still number one.
At age eighteen, I was delivering pizzas and felt like I was stable. Instead, it was the opposite and chaotic. I was introduced to OxyContin by a close friend.
I was afraid at first, but due to peer pressure and wanting to belong, I snorted it. Within the first ten minutes, I felt like I was in heaven.
It was incredible, and I never wanted to stop. This became a weekly occurrence…then every other day…then every day.
I didn’t know what withdrawal was, but I knew if I didn’t have OxyContin every day, I would get sick. Immediately after snorting the drug, I would feel better.
I quit my job due to the drugs, but financed my use by being a middle man to my drug dealer.
At age nineteen, my tolerance to OxyContin was waning, and I needed more of a boost to feel better. The pill supply was running out so my dealer suggested heroin because it was cheaper and a better high.
That next step into drug use took me farther down the rabbit hole of no return. I started shooting up heroin, and my thinking became even more clouded and warped.
Heroin was cheaper than pills but since it was black tar heroin, I had to use a needle.
I was and still am terrified of needles, but I believed needles were better because I would be in control of how much I injected. I was also cautious and questioned the product I bought, so to be “safe”, I only injected a little bit at a time.
I guess I thought a little at a time would be better, but it only takes a little bit of heroin to kill someone. The people I hung out with couldn’t figure me out either. I refused to drink diet pop with artificial sweetener because it had health risks, but I didn’t object to using intravenous drugs daily.
My judgment was not sound during this time, and my life was filled with so many of these twisted ironies. I hadn’t hit rock bottom yet.
When I was twenty-one, I got shot and pistol whipped by a sixteen year old kid at a party. I didn’t know who he was, but my friend had robbed him the day before and now it was payback time.
There was a fight, then a struggle for the gun, and it ended with a bullet that broke my femur and almost severed my femoral artery. I could have bled out before the EMTs could get me to the hospital, but I hung on.
I didn’t remember much at that point except the surges of pain. I eventually had to go to a nursing home for three months for physical therapy to learn how to walk again.
My probation officer at the time told me he hoped it was my wake up call that I needed help, but it wasn’t.
For four and a half years after the accident, I had prescriptions for numerous pain pills. I thought my opioid use was legitimized even though I was abusing them.
These prescriptions were refilled often, and I supplemented them with heroin. I still had no job and was in and out of jail, but my life never changed with the exception of me becoming more solitary.
The longer I used drugs, the more solitary my life became. I was trying to fill an unknown void with drugs. When I was twenty-five, I was introduced to meth. I used meth to help me withdraw from heroin so I could quit.
However, in order to sleep and come down from meth, I had to use heroin. I now just added another drug to my dangerous cycle of addiction.
Before long, I mixed the meth and heroin and created my own recipe. This seemed to be the solution and made sense to my addicted mind.
At twenty-six, I got my first drug charge for aggravated possession of meth and served three months at CCNO. When I got out, I couldn’t pass the drug screens required to meet the conditions of my probation for Williams County because I kept using.
The judge said he sentenced me to the Williams County Drug Court to save my life. Even though I didn’t see it that way, I agreed.
I wanted to stop using drugs but was not fully committed to the process like I should have been. I had been using substances for fourteen years, and it was my way of life. It was all I knew.
At twenty-seven I started participating in the Williams County Drug Court. I had to complete a lot of treatment requirements and went to my first Narcotics Anonymous (NA)meeting. I saw many of my former friends there and was surprised.
I didn’t realize they were also working on their sobriety. I felt like I fit in and had a new sober support system. Along with this, my life changed drastically for the better. I had a car, job, money, and sober friends in addition to treatment for my mental health and addiction.
There were some things that I didn’t change. I continued to be around old friends who were still in their addiction.
They put unhealthy ideas in my head, and I didn’t use my coping skills appropriately. I guess I could say I was only fifty percent on board with sobriety. Meanwhile, I was counting my days down until I graduated from the program.
After I completed the program from the Williams County Drug Court, I wanted to continue my sobriety, but I felt I needed something mind-altering to relax after work.
I started drinking because it wasn’t my drug of choice, and it was socially acceptable. Unfortunately, one month later I was drinking heavily and it progressively got worse. Alcohol led me back to heroin and heroin led me back to meth.
Within a short time everything I had gained in Williams County Drug Court was lost. I was living in my car with my girlfriend and ten dollars to my name. Using my best addict thinking, I bought ten dollars worth of lottery tickets. I couldn’t believe my luck, but I won five thousand dollars.
Instead of putting the money in the bank and saving it, I rented a house and paid the first three month’s rent. I also got a job, but every dime I had went straight to drugs, not paying bills.
I didn’t make car payments or continue paying rent, so the car and house were taken. I eventually lost my job. At the time I felt stable, but obviously I was not.
It wasn’t long before my girlfriend left me. She got sober and moved on to her new sober life. I wanted off drugs and a better life, but I continued to use and hang around old friends who were still on drugs. To get sober, I knew I had to change the people, places, and things in my life.
I decided to move with my dad to Colorado. I thought going to a different state and being in a different environment would help me quit.
I got off heroin, but I continued to smoke weed and drink. After a few years I decided to move back to Ohio. Before I even entered the state, I called my dealer to order drugs.
I had nothing to come back to, so I slept on a friend’s couch. I think that was my rock bottom. I was spiritually at a low point as well but knew that I was the only one who could save myself. At this point in my life, I really didn’t care what happened to me. Maybe it was a cry for help.
I drove a friend to Toledo, and he paid me in heroin. I stopped in the Walmart parking lot to get high and this time I overdosed.
I woke up to find police surrounding my car, but I wasn’t taken to jail. I called my mom and she let me stay with her on the condition I call Renewal Center to enter treatment again.
This time I was ready, committed, and serious. I asked for admittance in the Fulton County Drug Court to work on what I failed to get right when I was in Williams County Drug Court.
Fulton County Drug Court was more strict, but I realized it was what I needed all this time. The team held me accountable until I was capable of taking charge of myself.
This time I learned that NA meetings are important in order to remind myself of the depth of my addiction. I have learned humility and that my addiction will never be under control because it’s a lifetime commitment.
I gave up my old friends and now rely on my NA sober support including my sponsor. I discovered I’m okay with being alone and have found peace. I don’t need mind-altering drugs to get through my day because I replaced them with healthy alternatives.
I realized that as an addict I can’t drink even though it’s socially acceptable because alcohol will lead me back to drugs. I know I am spiritually fit and able to be content with the person I have become. Finally, my mind, body and soul are all in balance.
In the future, I plan on going back to school. I am interested in taking management classes or maybe logistics so I can move up in the company to other higher paying jobs.
My company will pay for my classes and is invested in me while I am loyal to them. Whatever I decide to do, I know I will continue to move forward.
I will be graduating Fulton County Drug Court on April 7, 2022. I have confidence in myself that I will choose sobriety. I gained a deeper sense of self and am grateful for my sober life.
I will not take life for granted and will try to help others who are struggling with addiction whenever I can. I am not sure how my story will end, but I know I will be sober.