Addicted and Still Working in the Church - That Was Me

My children were asleep. My Husband was at work. My heart was beating so fast, I thought I might die. Lenny Bias and I were using different drugs and had heart rushes, albeit to different degrees. Lenny died, but, thank God, I survived. It was a scary feeling. That was my last “hit.” I vowed to never use the drug again. It’s been more than 20 years, and I have kept that promise between God and me. 

Perhaps, you’ve heard the phrase, “From my first hit, I was hooked?” Well, that was my story. It didn’t take me long to become an abuser. And, guess what? It was a church member who “turned me on to the drug.” You see, we both had the same problem, and this was, as Ray Charles said about Pepsi Cola, “the right one, Baby,” to eradicate our mutual concern. She was overweight, and so was I. Although I have never used cocaine, my understanding of its effect is the sudden heart rush, which is the same with the abuse of the drug of my addiction. But, I wasn’t seeking a heart rush. I was seeking a rush of another matter. 

My addiction continued long after I had relocated to another state where I became a member of another Holy Ghost filled, fire baptized church. I was an upstanding wife and mother with a wonderful family - my husband and our three precious sons. But, that didn’t stop my abuse. My addiction also did not keep me from working in the church – Sunday school teacher, choir member, a part of the Prison Ministry, helping to prepare the church’s programs, participating in conferences, and other church related activities. I was an upstanding wife and mother, and, no one even knew of my addiction.

How many times have you heard stories of drug addicts and suppliers alike being gunned down during buying and selling transactions? Well, safety was never a concern in terms of my goods because suppliers are quite visible throughout the country. From Tennessee to New York, purchasing the goods was never an issue. Sneaking out during the night or conjuring up tales to go and meet my supplier was not necessary. However, concealing the purchase, you know, buying it with something else to make it incognito, and sneaking and taking the drug at home - now, that was a different story. 

What I haven’t told you is that I was binging and purging. It was not unusual for me to make and bake a batch of cookies after I put our three sons to bed, eat most of them before my husband arrived home after midnight. And, the few that I didn’t eat, I would keep in a secret stash in the back of the freezer. Or, I would eat an entire pint of ice cream and get rid of the packaging. I can remember buying packages of cookies, donuts, or six-pack ice cream bars, when I was out solo, and stuffing myself until I could eat no more. Whatever was left, if any, I would find a garbage can to toss the remains before I got home. So, you see, I really needed this drug to control my weight.  

The drug that I was using is to be taken by mouth as directed by a medical professional, unless, of course, one is self-medicating, as was my case. Directions on the package also state to swallow two pills with water once or twice daily. Well, I was taking as many as six-to-eight pills at once. In some cases, it might have been more. I don’t remember all of the details. Sounds just like a drug addict, doesn’t it? I never paid any attention to the “In case of overdose, get medical help or contact a poison control center right away” caution on the box. In fact, the last time that I read the directions was probably when I first started taking the drug. I didn’t follow the directions. I just simply took the dosage that I figured would give me the greatest result in the least amount of time. Of course, until that faithful March night when I got the scare of my life.

Roller coasters inflict a degree of fear in me, so I don’t ride them. That angst is nothing compared to what I felt the last time I took the last batch of purgatives. I was so scared. Honestly, I did not know if I would live or die. It was that moment when I made a conscious decision to kick the habit. That was the end of my binging and purging. I made a decision that I wanted to live, and I have never regretted the decision. “Thank God for His mercy and His grace,” Pastor Henry Rodgers, that I didn’t die at any time during my addictive years.  

At any point over that period, I could have experienced a heart attack because I was regularly depleting my potassium and creating situations of dehydration. I was also disorienting the regular function of my organs. My life is different today. It feels good not to have the heart rush from a drug with the lingering fear of the possibility of death, but, instead, I’m enjoying the exhilaration of my heartbeat during and after a healthy workout that is actually giving me life. 

That was then. This is now, and I am still clean.