Jane Doe


"Jane Doe , that is what they named me at first. To be honest I can't be surprised , I did have no identification on me when I overdosed in some guys apartment who I met at a party weeks or months prior to being in the hospital. I was just another junkie who popped too many pills or injected themselves with too much heroin. I was nameless in a sea of addicts who faces are like mine. Pale skin and dead eyes. We are all the same. I'm sure my own husband wouldn't recognize me if I returned home. My family would think that I was a ghost if they could see any resemblance to the daughter that they loved and cherished. To them their daughter was dead and instead of getting to mourn properly with a burial they had to know that I was out there somewhere. It wouldn't surprise me if they thought I was actually dead.

I almost was dead or momentarily dead. Everything around me was spinning and then it began to get bright. The needle was still in my arm when the paramedics found me. We had been blasting music which disturbed faceless' neighbors who called the cops. I was screaming which made faceless start blasting in the first place. I remember everything being painful before everything went white. I think I saw my family but I can't be too sure . I know I saw my first husband calling for me to come home. Then I felt pain and yearning. When I woke up I still wanted more and in order to make me clean the hospital I was in put me in an influence free room. They didn't even know my name and they treated me better than some of my friends.

The hospital I was in has no clocks or television in my room. I just stared at the walls or slept for the first couple of days I think. Time escaped me , it always has since I started using at seventeen. Things and time would skip for me , I would be in a constant daze only coming out for a few moments every several hours. Back then I was only doing pills to help me stay awake and to focus. I would be running around and absorbing things in my daze but after a while the time was gone and I had retained nothing. My first boyfriend was my dealer. He would always come around offering me a cheaper price if I gave him a tour of my room. The affair only lasted six or seven months , I grew tired of him and I wanted something better and more exciting. I was going to college around my hometown and within my first couple of months I was upping my dosage of pills and getting my life together. I worked hard , studied hard , and partied harder. Everyone at my college knew someone who sold something worth getting your hands on. I experimented with a few various pills and herbal healing remedies to compliment my daily drinks.

I had a string of guys who would visit me at night and I didn't mind it at all. My parents thought that I was still there little girl who was sweet and innocent. Never had sex nor consumed an alcoholic beverage. At one point I introduced them to my most frequent fun buddy as my boyfriend. He charmed the pants off of them with his accent and smile. I told them I met him in a chemistry class and that we hit it right off. We actually met each other at some party and I was so blackout drunk that when I woke up the next morning I couldn't remember meeting him. He asked me if I wanted breakfast and we sort of just spontaneously woke up together from then on sometimes during college. After the end of my junior year my mother found my stash of pills when she was putting some of my clothes away . I had to spend my summer at a rehab for rich kids like me to break their habits. I thought that my family was crazy for sending me since I didn't have a problem.

I met a couple of people I liked and more I didn't like. Fun buddy visited me every couple of weeks with some magazines and chocolate that I consumed in the middle of the night when no one was watching. I actually got clean for a few years. I stopped taking pills completely and still drank a little bit on the weekends with friends. Fun buddy turned into my boyfriend who turned into my fiance. Everyone was happy for us and how much of a perfect couple we were on the outside. I was actually happy to be with him and I knew that he was a good guy. I just wasn't convinced that he was the guy for me. He eventually ended up taking a trip home that he wasn't eager to be coming back from. The distance was ultimately too much for us and we separated.

I met the love of my pathetic life two days after we broke up. I was out shopping and the malls on duty cop chased me down after a store reported that I left my wallet there. I recognized him from around town but I never knew his name until then. We were like passing trains that would always arrive to the same station just at different times. He was sweet and what I needed. My drinking had gotten heavier and I started smoking pot to calm me down at night. With it I also took pills to keep me alert. The combination almost landed me in the hospital but I convinced my family that it was nothing. I was over working myself and that me and the love of my life were up late together. That usually shut them up for a little while. When he wasn't at the mall patrolling then he was keeping the streets safe from danger. Roughly four years after we met we were married. No one questioned anything , they just wished us luck. I stopped using after the wedding. He was onto me while we were briefly engaged and once we were bound by law he pushed me to quit. I was still very into drinking my wine with dinner but he never said a word.

One day I made myself stop drinking because I was convinced I was pregnant. Turns out I was right . I had my daughter a little over half a year later. She was the second love of my life. Then one day she was my first. My husband was out patrolling the streets one night and he was shot. He died before the ambulance could take him to the hospital. I remember I never said goodbye to him , he left while the baby and I were asleep. It was the first and last good nights sleep I had since my daughter was born. I loved him with almost every fiber of my being, he was the only thing that kept me truly sober. When he left me I spiraled out of control. I can't remember months of my life that followed his death. I ensured that I took as much drugs as possible to make me feel no pain. My daughter was in my arms one day and the next my sister was ripping her away from me so that I could get better.

I still had some control of my life because as far as anyone who wasn't my family , they all thought I was fine. Fun buddy returned to my life one day when I was getting coffee. I didn't even tell my parents that I was seeing him again. One thing led to another and we got married. I don't know what made him want to marry me but he did. He was into scotch and liked to drink a bottle every other day. That part of my life was in hyper motion. One day my true love was kissing me and telling me that he loved me and the next minute I am married and snorting heroin every day. Four years had passed and I can only recall an hours worth of memories. I was sober enough one night to pack my things and leave my family to go with a friend of mine to his friends house a couple towns away. Then it all blurred together. My daughter is now sixteen and has no memory of neither her mother nor father , my parents probably hate me as much as my sister does. My husband probably doesn't care where I am. Then here I am talking to all of you today. Please don't do drugs. They can wreck your life forever . Learn from my mistakes because you only have one chance at this life and you don't want to ruin it for a good high. My name is Spencer Cavanaugh Kingston and I thank you for your time." I finish before looking at the group of college kids before me who were either not interested at all , looking at me like I had a third head or a select few who looked at me like I was their hero. I may have prevented another person from destroying their lives from drugs. At the end of the day that is all I can hope for.