When The Doctor Is An Enemy

I felt so guilty after the drug deal. But that guilt only lasted as long as I was high. After the Xanax wore off, I was right back at the store.

 

Since I wasn’t making any more money, I had to rely on Jerry to give me spending cash. My allowance was definitely not enough to support my habit.

 

Jerry had no idea that I was buying my drugs off of the street. He never paid attention to how many pills I had left or that I ran out of refills weeks ago. Soon, my money was dwindling and I was low on pills.

 

I had two choices; ask Jerry for money, or find a way to get another prescription, and I definitely wasn’t telling Jerry anything. It was time to go back to the doctors.

 

I booked an appointment as soon as I could. I made up some story about not being able to overcome my anxiety. When my doctor mentioned prescribing more Xanax, I pretended that I didn’t want it. I told him that the last thing I would want is to develop some sort of dependency on it.

 

Yeah, I was full of it, but believe it or not, it actually worked. My doctor told me that as long as I followed his dosage instructions, I should be okay. Little did he know, I was well and fully addicted. Just like that, I had my babies back.

 

Over the years, I had gotten really good at lying to different doctors. I couldn’t keep going to my primary, so I found myself pretending to be anxious and depressed in different clinics and urgent cares.

 

My stories didn’t always fly. Sometimes I came off as desperate. Once, a

doctor told me to leave before he called the cops. I was scared half to death, but nothing came of it.

 

I had to get better. After a while, I had put together a mental list of “Team Xanax” doctors and “enemies”. I avoided the enemies and made sure not to visit the team members too often. Clinics are overcrowded and rarely keep logs of every single patient, so it was hard for them to remember who I was.

 

Clinics became my go-to spot and my lies got even better. I developed my skills so well, that I was able to hide them from my husband. Granted, he didn’t pay much attention to me anyway, but I still enjoyed living this double life. It was morally wrong, but it was the only amount of excitement I was going to get.

 

Lying to doctors became my way of life. It was like a new job for me. I got furious when I was turned down, but I would use it as a learning lesson to help perfect my skills.

 

I was a full-blown addict and doctors were just pawns in my game. They were tickets to my own happiness and I wasn’t going to let anything get in my way.

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