Proclaim Trust

A Lesson from the Time I Overdosed on Heroin

I was living in Moss Side with a woman called Lisa. She was an addict too. Lisa was 11 years older than me; she had long blonde hair and her nose was pierced - this was before it was popular. By now, things were getting out of hand. My only concern was getting totally off my face.

I opened my eyes and my vision was blurred. I was lying on my back, and I was moving at a quick rate. My eyes began to slowly focus. At first, I saw the blurred outline of the lights in the ceiling passing by. Then a women’s face came into view. I shook my head, and then realised that it was a nurse. She was young and slim with red lipstick. She said ‘Barry, you’re in Manchester General Hospital. You came in earlier today, and when you arrived, you were pronounced DOA, dead on arrival.’ I looked down at my chest, and saw that it was covered with bruises where the doctors had used the resuscitator.

Three days before, I’d been nicked in town. I had spent the weekend in a police cells and was granted bail on Monday. The first thing I did was to score some heroin. I had £25.00 in my shirt pocket underneath my jumper. I knocked on Ratty’s door. He hadn’t been dealing long; he used to be a top shoplifter. He had a sharp-looking face and wore expensive clothes. He let me in and we headed into the bedroom. ‘How much do you want’? ‘One-quarter of a gram,’ I replied. ‘Sorry mate, I haven’t got that. I’ve only got an 8th, but I’m expecting some more to arrive soon.’ I said, ‘Okay give me that, and I’ll come back later for the rest.’ He got out the gear and told me that it was really pure and uncut. I took the gear, prepared it, and then injected it. The next thing I knew, I was being rushed down a corridor of MG Hospital. ‘Barry, when you came in, you were DOA. The paramedics found you in a phone box, dead,’ the nurse explained.

I wasn’t in the hospital for very long, as I signed myself out. I returned to Ratty’s to get my other 8th. I knocked on his door. He opened it. ‘Mate, have you got the other half of my gear?’ ‘You’ve got a cheek coming round here,’ he replied. ‘What do you mean’? I was confused. ‘When you came round, you didn’t have any money.’  ‘Of course I did.’ ‘No you didn’t. We searched you as we carried you down to the phone box.’ I said, ‘The money was here in my shirt pocket.’ I reached under my jumper and pulled it out. He didn’t believe me, so he wouldn’t give me the rest of my gear. I ended up going somewhere else to score.

Why, after going through all of this did I go back to get more drugs? Because I didn’t place any value on my life, and I thought more of the buzz than I did about myself.

When I pause and think about this in retrospect, there’s a lesson to be learnt: you need to Wake Up to Your Worth.

I know that some of you have never taken drugs like I did. That’s great. Taking drugs is not clever. Putting your life at risk is not smart. It just demonstrates what a low price some people can place on themselves. I do know, however, that there are many people in all different kinds of situations who have very low self-worth. They don’t value themselves but the fact is they are worth so much.

I have a friend who’s a singer-songwriter. She came from a nice, regular, middle-class background. She hated herself so much that she stopped eating, and she became anorexic. Her doctors gave her five weeks to live. She didn’t put a price on her life.

What about you? Do you place value on yourself? Do you have low self-worth? Do you realise how much you're worth? Maybe you’ve never resorted to anorexia or drug addiction but there's something happening in your life that makes you feel worthless?

Listen. In God’s eyes, you are so very valued. He values you more than you could ever imagine. He puts a high price tag on you. He sees you as the apple of his eye. Start to value yourself: Wake Up to Your Worth!