It’s what I advise a lot of parents to do: it’s just the hardest thing that you can ever do—but if you want to save their lives it’s what you’ve got to do: it’s tough love.
Being involved in peer support groups—with people who knew exactly what it was like to work in a setting with access to medications—was the key for me to be able to get solid in my recovery.
I hope that anybody listening that's still suffering—if you need anything, reach out to me. This is what keeps me sober is by helping other people. I cannot keep what I have if I don't give it away.
My stepmom said, last week, “If you get through this quarantine thing without using, I’m really gonna start thinking that you might not.” And I was like, “Don’t say that!” She was like, “I cannot believe all the things that you have endured.” There really have been a lot, but my life is so awesome. I’ve put in a lot of work. I’ve never stopped.
It’s not gonna be just the recovery people that fix this or just the lawmakers that fix this. We’re gonna have to do it together. Some walls need to come down on every side of things. And spark some compassion out there, amongst all of us, and listen to each other. And then, you know, I really think we’ll come out of this.
I don’t always get it right, but I stay vigilant and work a program and stay involved and help people. The message is hope, and the promise is freedom. And I truly believe that. Hope is the last thing to go.
I have a compassion for these people that are struggling, all this generation, the kids. I just want to see them get better. If I can be a light, or be an encouragement, to them, I just want to see people get better.
“Drink this,” she said, handing me a small plastic cup with red syrup. “It’s 30 ml, our starting dose.” That’s how my road to recovery began.
On November 19th, 2020, the editors of the Movable Project gave a talk about the current state of Movable, its role at Marshall University, and its plans for the future. You can watch a recording here.Read more