- Politics and Social Issues»
- Social Issues
Broken Windows and Shattered Dreams
What were you doing on December 13th, 2003? Seeing that it's 2008, you're probably not too sure what you were doing on this particular day. However, this day that will forever be on my mind as the day that I took control of my own life.
What happened to change my perspective and see life in a different way that I never saw it before? I am a recovering drug addict and December 13th, 2003 should've been the day that I died. Seeing how I was already pronounced dead at 1:18am that morning. Two minutes after the doctor made that call, my heart began beating again.
You don't realize how scary it is hearing your mom and sister screaming at you, each second their cries falling further away and echoing. Seeing everything illuminate and fade into a blur. Feeling the tears run down my face as the flashing red lights from the ambulance reflecting off of the door.
The only thing that I remember after that point is walking down a long dark hallway, towards a light that seemed to get further away with every step that I took. I stopped as I came face to face with my deceased grandfather. He never said a word, he just stared at me in disappointment until he bowed his head and faded into a thin fog. I continued on this journey until I made it to the door. I opened it, only to see my mom sitting there in the hospital waiting room. Falling to her knees as the doctor mouthed something to her. I couldn't hear or feel anything except a warm breath on the back of my neck. The more I tried to escape it, the harder it became to fight it. All of a sudden, I wake up on a hospital bed, staring at a woman dressed in scrubs smiling at me. "We thought we lost you." She said. I still couldn't move or say anything. The life that I spent so much time destroying, was, all of a sudden, the life that I was trying so hard to keep that morning.
Many may be skeptic and waiting to pick the many theories of what I felt apart. Either way you want to look at it, I have a piece of paper that lists my time of death. How many people do you know that has something like that?
I was a drug addict from the time I was 14 years old. I smoked and snorted any thing that came into my possession. I took any and all pills that I could get my hands on, as well. I was a drug addict! Plain and simple. And it's sad that it took dying, even if only for a couple of minutes, to change that. Why me? Why was I able to pull through it, when so many other people didn't?
It was at that point that I decided it was time to turn my life around. That and a judge. Even without the judge's decision, I would have made that decision. It's also sad that it took that happening to me to make my friends realize that life is too short to be wasting it the way that we were.
Five minutes from now you could be breathing your last breath, walking down a darkened tunnel, into a waiting room to see the pain that you've caused the people that love you. And trust me, no matter how awful you believe that life is, somebody loves you. Somebody will be there at that point to where you just wish it all to fall into oblivion. Take that moment and grab it by the hand and never let go, it will get better. It's hard to this day, but all I have to do is look at my wife and my children and know that God loved me enough to get things straight. He didn't have to, but he did.
Drug addiction is and will always be something that consumes my life at times, but you're stronger than anything that comes your way. You don't have far to look whenever you look up to the sky. Just reach out and you'll be on your way to piecing together the broken windows and mending the shattered dreams.