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FACE DOWN

The Bracelet had caught attention from many different people and they all wanted one. I was giving many away to recovering addicts and people whose loved ones were affected by this disease of addiction. A lot of people that had requested a bracelet were mothers of children who had passed away due to an overdose. I had ran out of bracelets, but kept a few in the drawer of my dresser in case I had lost mine or came across someone who really needed one. One mother reached out to me requesting a bracelet.

“Hi Ally. I saw that you had those ‘Stop Heroin Now’ bracelets and, well, I was wondering if you had any left. My son died two weeks ago from an overdose of heroin. It would really mean a lot to me if you could send me one, thanks,” said the mother. I hear this too often unfortunately, but for some reason this one woman had touched my heart in a way it never had been. Just two weeks ago her precious child was taken by his monkey. My heart broke with her.

I knew I had to dig up a bracelet somewhere for this mother. I knew there had to be one hiding somewhere in my room or in my belongings. So I went to my dresser drawer where I remembered I had thrown some in it. As I’m searching through my drawer, something landed into the palm of my hand; an empty glassine bag of heroin.

When I was released from detox, and before my release, my mother and I had cleaned out my room entirely of anything that could be triggering for me. I was proud of myself for handing her paraphernalia that was hiding in areas she didn’t know. So for this bag to have fallen out of a page of a book in my drawer, was unexpected.

My hands began to tremble and my heart pounded and felt as if it dropped to my stomach. Although I had been thriving in recovery, out of habit or maybe instinctively, I grabbed the bag and held it up to the light to see if it had any heroin in it. By doing that action within seconds after it had landed on my hand, I felt guilt and a sense of weakness. I felt like The Monkey grabbed a hold of my hand by lifting it up to check whether the bag was empty or not. I noticed that the bag was mainly empty, but had heroin residue in the corners of the bag.

“You know you could scrape that and get a nice little high right now right? C’mon, do it, no one will even know! You’ll feel great!” said The Monkey. He had been anticipating this type of temptation and was loving every second of it. He couldn’t wait for me to slip and was going to do anything in his power to make it happen.

“No! No, no, no,” I said aloud to The Monkey.

I looked at this empty glassine bag. I saw the black uppercase letters stamped on the bag saying, “FACE DOWN”. Heroin dealers use stamps to label their product as a marketing technique. Let’s remember something about dealers; it’s a business to them. They have competition as any legal company does. The better the label and company name equals better product, and better product equals more consumers. It’s all about making money and having the best product. So this label, “FACE DOWN”, is supposed to be a way for dealers to attract their customers by having hopes that the name of it will speak for itself; a user will be so intoxicated that they will literally have their face, down.

“FACE DOWN” was one of the strongest batches that I had ever came across in my years of heroin use. As I held the empty bag of “FACE DOWN” in my hand, I pictured the first time I had used that specific batch of heroin. It was the first time that I had ever been close to overdosing. I hadn’t overdosed, but a friend of mine did on that same batch. She was revived, but it was still frightening to me.

“Ah yes, FACE DOWN! Remember how good that stuff is? Now you really know that even just a little scraping of that bag will DEFINITLEY give you nice buzz! You won’t die, trust me,” said The Monkey. Remember, every monkey is a liar and will use lies to convince you that it’s the truth.

“Please, God, get me out of this, help me to see the escape that You promise to have when facing temptation!” I pleaded to God.

He came to my rescue immediately.

I looked at the name “FACE DOWN” and although for a moment I remembered the strength of the heroin and reality of the name, I suddenly remembered how many times I was “face down” in prayer and how many times God came to my rescue with comfort while being in that position during prayer and also crying, consumed with sorrow. I remembered all of the times that heroin made me put my face down with the overwhelming feelings of guilt, shame, and pain.

And then I remembered this mother that I was searching for a bracelet for. I pictured her hanging her face down as she sobbed with tears from the loss of her child. Here I was searching for a bracelet that clearly stated on it “Stop Heroin Now” and what did I discover? Heroin. I remembered the significance of this bracelet and all of the people who died because of heroin. I thought about how that mother could have been my mother.

I didn’t scrape that bag. I didn’t use that day. I still haven’t used. I chuckled at The Monkey and said, “Nice try, but not this time.”

I immediately flushed that bag down the toilet. I fell to my knees afterwards and thanked God for answering my prayer and showing me the escape when temptation came upon me.

When I flushed that bag down the toilet, I watched it as it swirled through the water in the bowl. The letters of the bag were “face down”, as it disappeared down the toilet.