4. My Rock-Bottom
In last week’s column I explained the irony in the beauty of an addict hitting rock-bottom. What better way to follow that up than with a personal recount of my last rock-bottom? I remember my bottom very well. I’m terrified at even the thought of going back. With that being said, I am also extremely grateful for my rock-bottom and the way it helped “break” me down (physically, emotionally, and spiritually) to a place where I was finally willing to put in the honest work that’s required to achieve long term sobriety. Like many other addicts, my rock-bottom saved my life.
In December of 2018 I was arrested (again) after wrecking my car (again) while under the influence of a combination of alcohol, marijuana and Xanax. I also had 350 Xanax pills in my possession, packaged and ready for sale. I was arrested, processed that night and released from the police station early the next morning. They charged me with a felony, six misdemeanors and several violations. I immediately entered a local detox center later that day. I had already been through this so many times before: the arrests, the detoxes, the rehabs, the court mandated programs, etc.
Two days into the detox process, I had a seizure while in the bathroom as a result of withdrawals from alcohol and Xanax. When I fell, I slammed my head against the porcelain toilet. I don’t remember too much but when I finally came to, I was surrounded by nurses and doctors shining flashlights in my eyes and talking amongst themselves. A few more moments passed when I realized that something was different. Something was very wrong. As I went to stand myself up, I realized that I no longer had mobility in my legs. I was trying with everything I had in me to stand up, but all that I could do was move my upper body. My legs were dead weight. When doctors lightly pinched my legs, I could feel them doing it. I just couldn’t get them to move. Doctors went on to run many tests while they grasped at straws trying to figure out what was wrong with my legs. They concluded that when I fell and hit my head against the toilet, the “connection” from my brain to my lower body was disrupted, affecting the mobility of my legs. They ultimately diagnosed me with temporary paralysis. What should have been a 4-5 day stay in detox turned into over a month long stay in the hospital where I had to relearn how to walk with the help of doctors, nurses and physical therapists.
I remember sitting in my hospital room a few days after my fall, at the young age of twenty-seven years old, wondering if I’d ever walk again. Doctors wondered the same thing. To say this was a very dark and difficult time for me is an understatement. This rock-bottom was different from the many others I had hit in the past because for the first-time in my life, a legitimate feeling of fear was instilled in me when my legs became immobile, and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever walk again. I now have absolutely no doubt in my mind that had I not had that traumatic experience, I would have left that detox, gone back to using drugs and would eventually hit a new rock-bottom (if I was lucky enough), or even worse, the ultimate rock-bottom… DEATH. Thankfully, that’s not how it went.
It’s been over three years since my fall in that hospital bathroom and I still thank my higher power daily for allowing me to hit that rock-bottom. It saved my life.
And remember, if you’re struggling, or know someone who is struggling, please don’t lose hope. If that had happened to me, I wouldn’t be able to help spread awareness today.
