I AM Adam
I AM Adam Melle, born the day after Christmas in 1990 in Fargo, ND where December temperatures are typically in the single digits. Just a day old, I give my family quite the scare – a code blue. I’ve stopped breathing, but doctors save me. I AM born into a family that loves me. I AM normal, I have many friends, I love my animals, I gobble down cookies, and I do magic tricks. I AM an invincible super hero.
I know one day, I AM going to be a salesman like my dad – it’ll be a tough decision. Early in life, I AM diagnosed with anxiety disorder and ADHD. I AM treated with pills. As a teenager, I self medicate with alcohol and later with marijuana. I try things I find at a party, in a medicine cabinet. Some level of substance experimentation is normal, right? It must be, since I still have a lot of friends. I laugh, I play sports, I go to church, and I AM loved.
Eventually, I get high and drink alone. I begin to unravel and I need help. I get psychiatric care and somehow make it through high school. I AM just a teenager and I have time to change.
My Story Continues…
I get a chance to start over with a move to Arizona. I AM new to the area and I AM anxious, so I look for marijuana, but instead I AM offered heroin. I try it. I like it. Still, I have aspirations. I want a better job. I want to travel. I want expensive toys. So, for a while, I attend a local community college and I get a better job.
My family is worried and there’s an intervention. I go through treatment, but I AM a good liar and I AM convincing. I easily order drugs online and have them shipped to the house. I do a better job at hiding my addiction. I AM fooling everyone, but I AM afraid and I AM ashamed. I give in – this is just the way I AM. I AM helpless and I AM hopeless.
My friends die because of drugs, but I don’t care. I AM sorry I keep hurting my family, but I AM enslaved by my addiction. It dictates my every action, regardless of the potentially dire repercussions. I AM not what seems to be the obvious image of an addict.
I don’t live on the streets and I don’t have a needle hanging from my arm. I AM a functional member of society, I have a job, I come from a good family, I have friends, I AM intelligent, I was raised well. Addiction does not discriminate and I AM part of an epidemic. I AM found dead in my car, the day I AM released after a month of inpatient treatment. I AM a memory.