In the world of addiction, the stories are often both tragic and complex, revealing the depths to which people will go to sustain their dependency. In this interview, we sit down with Jan, a recovering addict, who candidly shares the extreme measures she took to manipulate doctors into prescribing pain medications. Her journey exposes the underbelly of addiction, where deceit becomes a daily tool for survival.

Interviewer: Jan, thank you for agreeing to talk with me today. Can you start by telling us a little about how your addiction began?

Jan: It started the way it does for a lot of people. I was prescribed pain medication after an injury — I’d hurt my back, lifting something heavy. At first, the pills were just for the pain. But then, over time, I started noticing that the pills didn’t just take the pain away; they made everything else disappear, too. The stress, the anxiety — all of it. And soon enough, I wasn’t just taking them for the pain.

Interviewer: When did you realize you were dependent on them?

Jan: Probably when the prescriptions stopped. I would run out early, and the doctors started cutting me off. That’s when I knew I was hooked. The physical withdrawal was unbearable. It felt like I couldn’t function without them. So, I started looking for ways to get more.

Interviewer: Can you explain what you did to keep getting the medication once the doctors stopped prescribing it?

Jan: Sure. I got desperate. After a while, doctors in my state flagged me as a potential drug seeker. They wouldn’t write me prescriptions anymore. That’s when I came up with this plan, which I guess you could call it. I started having my boyfriend hit me. Not just anywhere — I’d tell him where to hit so it would look like I’d had a real accident. Mostly in places that doctors couldn’t easily question — like my arms, legs, or ribs. Then, I’d tell the doctors I fell down the stairs or slipped in the shower.

Interviewer: How often would you do this?

Jan: It became a regular thing. Whenever I needed a refill and couldn’t get one, I’d set it up. I’d plan it out: how I’d “fall,” where I’d land, and how long I’d wait before going to the ER. I had it down to a science. My boyfriend wasn’t a bad guy — he didn’t want to hurt me — but he knew I needed it, or I’d lose it. He’d just do what I asked. The bruises and fractures made it easy to convince the doctors.

Interviewer: Did you ever get caught by the doctors?

Jan: Not at first. I got good at it. I made sure to switch doctors every time. But after a while, even the ERs in my state started to catch on. They’d see my name, and I’d notice the way they’d look at me. You could tell they were suspicious. They’d start asking questions, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I was flagged everywhere.

Interviewer: What did you do when that happened?

Jan: That’s when I crossed state lines. I live near the border, so driving to another state wasn’t too hard. I’d just start the whole process over again. New doctors, new hospitals, new stories. They didn’t know me in a different state, so it worked for a while. But you can only run long before people start figuring things out.

Interviewer: Did you ever feel guilty about deceiving the doctors?

Jan: (Pauses) At the time, no. I didn’t care about anything except getting the pills. The withdrawal made me feel like I was dying, so I would do whatever I had to. I justified it by telling myself that the doctors didn’t care about me anyway, that they were just part of the system. But looking back now, I feel terrible. Those doctors were trying to help people in pain, and I took advantage of that. I wasn’t thinking about the long-term damage I was doing to myself or how I was hurting the people around me.

Interviewer: What finally made you stop?

Jan: I ended up in a car accident, a real one this time. I was high on pain pills and nodded off while driving. I could’ve killed someone, and that was the wake-up call I needed. After that, I went to rehab, and I’ve been clean ever since. It’s been a long road, but I’m doing better now.

Interviewer: What advice would you give someone in a similar situation?

Jan: Get help before it’s too late. The pills might feel like they’re helping, but they’re not. They just numb the pain for a little while, and then the cycle starts all over again. And don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re not hurting anyone else — because you are. Eventually, the lies catch up with you. It’s only a matter of time before it all falls apart.

Interviewer: Thank you, Jan, for sharing your story. I know it’s not easy to talk about something like this.

Jan: It’s important. I just hope my story can help someone else avoid the path I went down.

Jan’s story is a stark reminder of the lengths to which addiction can drive someone. The deception, the manipulation, and the constant need for more highlight the darker side of pain pill addiction. For Jan, her story is one of survival — not just from the pain she sought to numb but from the addiction that nearly destroyed her life.