My Sister's Last Words

These are the last written words by my dear (and much missed) sister, Mary. Shortly after she passed, I found her writing on her computer. It took a few hours to comprehend the gift I had discovered.

It’s Not Fair!

By my sister,

Mary Beth Maurer

I can’t begin to count how many times I’ve said that. I have to keep reminding myself that I’m grateful because I’m not using heroin. Every day I go over the pluses that come with being clean. Even with all that I can now do because I’m clean, I still find myself thinking and much too often, “This isn’t fair!”

Stopping the heroin use is just one of the many things I had to do in order to start having a decent life. When I first entered this program I thought, “If I can just stop using, everything will be ok. My life will fall back into place and all my problems will be solved”. Of course stopping the drug use had to be the first thing on the agenda or nothing else could happen, but I was not prepared for what happened after that. Not only did my problems not just go away, but also, most of the people in my life didn’t believe me when I said I wasn’t using! I wasn’t expecting a parade down Main Street, but I certainly thought I would be congratulated for all my hard work and welcomed back into the fold. I pictured my reentry akin to the prodigal son. Instead it was met with down cast eyes filled with mistrust and yes, even pity. I wanted to scream at them, shake them, and take an ad out in the paper so everyone would know that this time I was going to stay clean. Then I heard those two words very clearly echoing in my brain. “This Time” How often did my family and friends here those words? How often did I mean them when I said them? How often did they stay true? The sad truth was I didn’t stay true to those words. That’s when I knew that I was going to have to do this for me and no one in my little circle had to believe me. I had to shut my eyes to the looks and even the words. When I went to the store for groceries and the line was long so it took my longer to get home, I had to ignore the “knowing looks” that were thrown my way. Those were the looks that said, “Yeah, sure you were shopping” Even though I had groceries with me, that still wasn’t enough. I knew they believed I either didn’t get everything I was supposed to, OR, I found another way to pay for the drugs. What made matters worse was if I tried to explain why I was late, people really thought I was lying. Even to my own ears, the truth sounded fake. I was just trying to hard.

It took quite some time but I did get through all of that. You may wonder what I did to have everyone believe me. I did nothing except normal day-to-day things. When I stopped trying to explain why I was late or why something cost more then I had thought, people stopped looking at me as if I did something wrong. As long as I continued to act in the same manner as when I was using, I was looked at in that light. I always had a reason for everything. Finally, I realized I don’t have to give a reason. Sometimes things just happen. Most people do not have to explain to their family why they only had 2.00 change instead of 5.00 or why they were 15 minutes late after being at the grocery store. People just knew that this happens. Trying to explain the obvious only made me look guiltier.

Ok, so now I’m clean. My family doesn’t lock away their good silver or hide their wallets and purses when I visit. I was surprised to see some of the things my sister had. I never saw them before because she was afraid I would steal it. Now things will finally go ok for me. Thank Goodness. I had enough of the distrust and dirty looks. Now I could reap some of the rewards for staying clean and sober. NOT TRUE. As I said in the very beginning of this, I found life just wasn’t fair.

After many years of substance abuse, I am clean and sober. Then I notice my legs are turning colors. Initially it had the look of someone with dirty feet salted with clean spots. Nothing would clean the area and it was spreading. A trip to the doctor revealed I had Hepatitis C. When I was 19, I had contracted hepatitis B. Now, hepatitis C. reared its ugly head and destroyed my liver. I had no symptoms, no pain, nothing. I was free of the terrible monkey of heroin only to find that I could still die from the drug. One doctor told me that I was going to die from liver cancer. Those words rattled around my brain for the umpteenth time… It’s not fair! So, now I sit and wait to get sicker so I can get a new liver. Even if I do get this liver, there’s still a big chance I may not make it. I have a 30% chance of dying on the table and a 60% chance of dying after the first year. These are not good odds. So, this is why I find myself yelling LIFE ISN’T FAIR.

As if all of that junk weren’t enough, it seems every time I try to do something, it doesn’t work out. I feel as though the entire world is against me. The physical pain becomes so horrendous I tell myself that I’m going to use dope just to get rid of the pain. Since the doctors won’t give me anything, they have given me no choice. There have been times I’ve come very close to picking up again. Then something happens. I look around at what I have because I’m not using. My son, my most precious son is mine again. No words exist to explain that feeling. I have self-respect. One of my big fears was after I died I would be known as that drug addict who lived in the corner house. I don’t want to leave that legacy to my children. I’m more than a drug addict. I also find myself talking to my counselor about this. I’m actually using the program the way I’m supposed to. Sometimes I get on the Internet and talk with another addict. Sometimes I call the NA help line. Sometimes I just pray. (Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it) Then there’s one more thing I hadn’t counted on. The same thing that is keeping me from going through withdrawal, methadone, is also keeping me from using. You see in order for this program to work, a person has to be on a dose that fills up their opiate receptors. This is what keeps you from wanting to use. (At least physically.) Well, that same thing will keep me from feeling the dope.

No one told me getting clean would be easy. No one told me staying clean would require so much work. (Personally, I’d like to take the guy named NO ONE and punch him in the gut.) I’m not going to tell anyone that this is peaches and cream and bubble gum. Well, unless the peaches are a little too soft, the cream has curdled and the bubble gum just exploded all over my hair. However, I did find that something pretty terrific is going on. I don’t feel like a useless piece of flesh. I use to believe that I wasn’t worth the space I took up. I don’t believe that today. I have hope for a better life for my son. He now has a chance at happiness. I don’t have to leave a legacy of being the drug addict on the corner. Most of all, I proved to myself that I could do it. I overcame all the crap that was sent my way be it real or imagined and I stopped using drugs! When I wake up, I thank my higher power for keeping me clean the day before and I ask for help on this new day. I consider it a small miracle that I’m not dead and that I don’t have to rush out and pick up so I don’t get sick. I can actually go places like the park, the movies, and have fun. My mind isn’t constantly wrapped up in finding my next hit.

I came into this program hoping I would stop using drugs. What I found was a lot more then just that. The Nurses showed me friendship and real concern for my welfare. My counselors actually cared about me. I had always thought they were just looking at this as doing their job and that’s all. I was able to trust them and open up and by doing that, I was able to stay clean. I found so much more then my initial goal. It took using everything the program offered in order to do this. It also takes believing in me to continue this journey.

I don’t know what will happen tomorrow or next week. I only work on staying clean one day at a time. However today I can make plans for next week or next month. In the past, I couldn’t do that. How could I plan on being somewhere when I didn’t know if I would have my fix? You may wonder when you can really tell that you are making it. For me it was when my boyfriend gave me some jewelry for my birthday. He hadn’t done that in a long time because I would always sell it. Truthfully, though, that was when I knew he trusted me. I knew that I was getting better when I realized that I no longer cared about the results of urine tests and what anyone thought of me. I knew in my heart what I had done or had NOT done and that was the only important thing.
Ok, so sometimes I still feel as if life is unfair. The difference today is I feel life is unfair, but it’s unfair to everyone. I’m not being singled out. This is just the way life is. I can either accept it or not. If I don’t accept it, I’ll use again. If I can accept it, then I’ll stay clean.

The end of all this is today I wake up, look in the mirror and hey, what’s that?? Well looky here, there’s a smile on that person’s face. Now how about that? Who would have thunked it? (big grin)

Mary Beth Maurer
April 5, 1955 ~ Sept. 29, 2001