At 17 years old, I met a man and fell madly in love. He was strong, smart, handsome, and exciting ... and was addicted to drugs. Many drugs --- heroin, any opiate, cocaine, prescription drugs, Quaaludes, benzodiazepines, even alcohol at times. 

I was very innocent and naïve at that age and did not understand the implications of having an intimate relationship with someone with addiction problems. It was very scary for me when I first witnessed my partner and his friends injecting themselves. Within six months, I too had tried my first injection. 

There was a lot of drug dealing and partying going on, and my partner was either high, dope-sick, or on the hunt for the cure for his sickness.  I have to give him credit that during that period, he never let me develop a full-blown addiction or become physically dependent. I was young, and he was eight years older, and he had a lot of influence over me-or maybe I should say I let him have influence over me. 

He had a really bad experience with cocaine. He was using very large amounts intravenously and got really sick. He developed a thyroid problem, and this made him want to give up using drugs and try to get his life back. He went to school, started eating properly, exercising, and taking care of his health. We were in a good place. We ended up getting married and having our first child during this time. 

I went to school to become a nurse, and he got a good full-time job as a bus driver. Things were looking up. He was such a great guy when he was straight-full of potential. We went on to have three more children. 

His use started to creep back in; he missed some work; he was using a lot of prescription drugs during that time. He tried a rehab center. Back then, they weaned people off opiates with methadone and then sent them home. That was a disaster, and he ended up relapsing very quickly. 

Before the birth of our fourth child, his use increased, and he started going downhill again. I was so angry --- why couldn't he just stop? Why did he always have to be sick and search for his cure? Why couldn't he just stop!! 

We got into heavy financial difficulties. He racked up credit cards, spent all the proceeds from our house sale-why wouldn't he just stop?! I didn't understand. I was so angry. 

Around this time, his stepfather passed away, and his mother ended up coming to live with us to help with the kids. It started out well, but after a while, it became very stressful for me. He was using, we had four kids, and his mother-in-law was living with us. I became very stressed out. 

It was at this time, in my early 30s, that I started using heroin with him. I didn't care; I just wanted to escape. I think deep down I longed for connection with my husband, and maybe this way we would be on the same wavelength. Looking back, I was alone in that relationship for many years. I was always the responsible one, working, taking care of the kids, the house, paying the bills --- everything. He was always stoned or sick. I resented him; I hated his selfishness. 

I became addicted to heroin very quickly, and this was the start of an 18-month run. We both had to use daily in order to function normally. His mother was still helping me take care of the kids. 

Then he discovered methadone maintenance. This was different from years before when they used it only to withdraw people from their opiate. This could be taken every day so people could function and get their life back-become more productive. He went on methadone first, and I went on it six months later. It was great! No more sickness. I loved it as I felt normal and could be a mom again. Methadone worked for me. 

As for my husband, he soon became bored of being straight and on methadone and started using other drugs such as crack, alcohol, and benzodiazepines. 

I went back to school and upgraded my nursing diploma to a BScN degree. 

Our marriage was falling apart. My husband's drug use continued to increase, and he started showing a decline in his mental health. He was getting arrested, passing out on the streets, having car accidents, seizures, and ending up in hospital emergencies. He hadn't worked in years. 

I hated him at this point. I wanted to kill him. Why didn't he want to get better? 

We divorced finally after 19 ½ years together. It was a very messy divorce with a horrendous custody battle, the separation of the children (he took two with him), and I spent years in court trying to get visitation rights for my children. It was probably the worst time in my life. 

It was during this dark time that I met and fell in love with my second husband. Early on, we had lots of problems. We were both bringing a lot of baggage from our past. I was bringing a lot of trauma, grief, and loss from my first relationship. I remained in recovery from opiates and had stopped taking methadone. 

We had our first child together. We ended up separating for several years, as living together was difficult despite loving one another. This was a very stressful time for me, and I had a very hard time with the breakup. I ended up relapsing after 14 years of sobriety and started using opiates again. 

I tried to stop, but I couldn't. I kept trying to stop, but I kept failing. I just couldn't seem to stop no matter how hard I tried. I kept it secret from everyone. I was so ashamed. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I stop? 

I became pregnant again. I ended up going on methadone again. I even used opiates during my pregnancy. I felt so shameful --- hurting my baby. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I stop? I believed I was a very bad person. 

My husband could not understand why I could not stop using; how I could use with a baby in my stomach. I could not explain this to him. I could not explain it to myself. My husband was now experiencing exactly what I experienced in my first marriage. He was angry, blaming, and shaming me, and I believed I deserved it. 

After having my 4th child, I was able to finally stop using opiates and start working towards a solid recovery. It was a new birth. This time was different. It felt different. I had a lot of determination and wanted to redeem myself and my child/children and do the best for everyone. 

I resourced everything and everyone in this town. I got a lot of therapy-good doctors, counselors, great professionals in my town. I am very grateful to all that stood with me during this time. 

I went back to school to pursue a counseling degree. I graduated in 2017. I remain in recovery after almost 13 years. 

But the story does not stop in my generation. My second son struggles with opiate addiction. He was one of the children who went with his father and started using around the age of 14. He is 37 years old now. He has had many ups and downs in his addiction, including a very bad overdose on car fentanyl when he nearly died. He continues to struggle with opiate addiction. 

Seven years ago, my first husband --- the father of my first four children --- died of an opiate overdose, alone in his apartment. He was found several days after his death. He was 60 years old. 

Addiction crosses all borders-across race, gender, culture, and socio-economic status 

Addiction is a very serious issue 

Addiction not only affects the individual, it affects the entire family.  

Recovery and healing are not only limited to the person suffering from addiction 

Families need recovery and healing too.  

This was my personal story. 

As a health professional, I have worked in addictions and mental health as a Registered Nurse/Counselor and now as a Psychotherapist since 2001. I am honored and humbled to work with people whose lives have been touched by addiction. 

Thank you for listening to my story. 

Maureen Edwards

Founder of Creative Emergence Community Studios