“Hell no. I was staying at Grammy’s when I got out. It was the third day when I got a migraine, and good ol’ Grams did what she always does and gave me something. She had been switched to fentanyl by that point. The old-school Lortabs weren’t cutting it anymore.”
“Shit. That shit’s rough,” breathed out another guy. He was new to Kerrie’s caseload, and Reese couldn’t remember his name.
“Yeah, I went on to learn that, over the next several years, I was just operating on automatic. I did get clean for about a year, but I made the mistake of hanging out with my cousin, thinking I could resist. I couldn’t. Then, another time, I got six months, but I moved in with Grammy. I now know I have to avoid being around them for long. I’ve worked hard to learn how boundaries work.”
“So what finally got you here?”
Matty swallowed thickly, briefly locking eyes with Reese. It was hard to read what was going on in her mind. Was she worried Reese would walk away now? Want nothing to do with her? Or was she simply hoping Reese would listen with an open heart? So many thoughts ran rapidly through her mind.
She looked over at the guy who asked the question. “About just under three years ago, I was in the same position as I was when my cousin and I had the bright idea to rob that old lady. We were in an abandoned house that was on the property of a friend. He’d let people just come and go. Once again, we were trying to think of ways to get cash or pills or something because we couldn’t go too long at that point without otherwise we’d start withdrawing. Withdrawing from opioids is rough. Anyway, my cousin said he knew a woman who just had some major surgery and would have had some pain meds. We were outside her house. It was two a.m. We were dressed in black like we were some kind of stealthy burglars.”
That got some chuckles. Reese cracked a smile.
“We were in the living room when I saw a picture of an old woman on the wall. She looked a lot like the first old woman. And I…I just stopped right there. Was I really doing that again? Was I really going to relive the worst day I had ever had? I just couldn’t do it. I told him I was out and left.”
“You just left?” asked Blain. Reese hoped Matty’s story was getting through to him.
“Yep. He was so pissed. I had never left him before like that. But I couldn’t do it again. I had had enough instances where I’d been clean long enough to know it could be better. I’d wake up so many times in a cold sweat with that woman crying out for help, and all I did was step over her. I just couldn’t do it anymore. I felt like shit all the time. I was constantly wondering where I’d get more cash from. My body was done. My mind too.
“So the next morning I called my old probation officer to see if she could get me into a rehab. She was able to get me connected to the Johnson City branch, and I waited outside Grammy’s house for them to pick me up. I was immediately enrolled in detox and then rehab afterwards. Now I’m here talking to y’all.”
Reese wanted to clap or shout. To celebrate her strength. But it wasn’t the time or place.
“Do you still see Grammy?”
“I do. I don’t live with her, and I try to limit the time I visit. She doesn’t respect boundaries as I would like.”
“What about the cousin?” another client asked.
“I avoid him at all costs. I have him blocked on my phone. I don’t really do social media. He’s one of my main triggers. Just being around him can make my head spin.”
A long arm went up. It was Dex, Reese’s client, with a deep voice and a soft spot for his sixteen-year-old chihuahua Estelle. He had the same drug of choice as Matty. “I have the same DOC. Is there any long-term effects you’ve noticed?”
“Honestly? I still can’t take a shit.” Her eyes glossed over Reese with a shy smile, then turned more confident with a laugh. “Opioids will wreak havoc on your bowels. I struggle to go regularly. My doctor says there’s a chance this might be permanent. I take medicine. I eat fiber. I drink a lot of water. I get as much exercise as I can, and I’m still struggling with it. I also have discovered that my drug use was an unhealthy coping mechanism,” her eyes flashed to Reese, “for depression. I was a teenager with what was probably chronic depression, and I found the only way I knew to cope. I also take a mild depression pill. Another side effect is sleep. My body ran off depressants for so long that I really struggle with sleeping sometimes. It’s gotten better, but it’ll take more time to straighten it out.”
“Damn, he does the same thing,” Blain piped up. The young ones were usually more talkative. “We’re roommates in Sparrow. He’ll be up at all hours.”
“Yeah, it’s a pain in the ass sometimes. Especially when I haven’t slept, and we got a whole day of classes.”
“I have some suggestions from my doctor that I can get for you. I’ll make a copy and leave it with your counselor if you want.”
“That would be great, thank you.”
“Who’s your counselor?”
“Ms. Reese,” Dex answered, pointing to Reese.
“Okay, I’ll get it to her.”
The rest of Leadership went well. Matty was asked questions, and she answered with only the kind of honesty that a person who has accepted their past can. She engaged so well with the clients. Reese was floored by it. Matty would make an excellent addiction counselor.
When it was all done, the meeting dispersed. She lingered around, helping put the chairs back up. They would be mopping at chore time.
After Matty finished talking to clients who had questions, she walked over to Reese. With a sheepish smile, she rubbed the back of her neck. “So, I guess you know my story now.”
“I do. Thank you for letting me hear it. And the guys. It’s always good for them to meet people who have gone through similar things.”
Matty started to speak, then stopped.
