Caitlin Rogers can tell you exactly how long it’s been.
“Four years, eight months and five days,” she said Thursday.
It’s a milestone she never imagined she’d keep track of. But since Christmas Day in 2018, she’s been sober.
The tracker on her phone is a remnant of the Lewis County Drug Court she was once ordered to attend. Now, as an outreach worker for the court, she helps others struggling in the cycle of addiction.
“It’s a part of yourself, you worked hard for that,” she said of the time elapsed on her counter. “I’m proud of it, everyone’s proud of it. It’s a pride thing.”
During her addiction, she’d abuse an array of drugs. She needed the overdose-reversing medication Narcan to save herself from an overdose seven times in one year.
Nearly five years after she last used, Rogers was in George Washington Park in Centralia Thursday night for an event organized by Gather Church that marked International Overdose Awareness Day. The night included a candlelight walk “to remember those we have loved and lost to addiction, and for the addict who still suffers.”
Roughly 100 people attended the event to listen to testimonials and connect with community resources. Big T’s BBQ provided free catering for the often-emotional event.
The excessive use of narcotics in America isn’t unusual, but it’s not common for those suffering to receive help. According to the National Institute on Drug Abuse (NIDA), 10.3% of the 20.4 million Americans diagnosed with substance use disorders in 2019 received treatment.
“A lot of people don’t ask for help because it’s such a stigma,” Rogers said. “There’s such a stereotype to it.”
The event
Thursday saw the third year Gather has organized the event. Gather's Pastor Cole Meckle said overdose and addiction are “touching more and more people’s lives.”
Meckle said one of the most impactful moments of the night was when people took to the stage to share their stories of addiction and their path to recovery. Meckle said some people feel they are not “deserving” or “worthy” of living a clean and sober life.
The testimonials, he said, help show that there’s another path.
“You are inspired — not just that you can do it, but you learn to see yourself differently,” Meckle said.
One of those speakers, Kendrick Fritz, said he was inspired to speak after listening to Rogers during last year’s event. During his speech, Fritz said he wasn’t raised to be an addict. Consistently feeling like an outsider as a child led him to seek “acceptance in the wrong places.”
“To try and fit in, I started drinking and smoking weed,” Kendrick said from the stage. Once pain pills became too expensive, his addiction shifted to heroin. “And that was an escape.”
Sober for more than 14 months, Fritz credits his fiance, mom and support system for helping him change his life.
“I live an amazing life today, and it’s all because of these people,” he said.
Caitlin’s road to addiction
Rogers never planned to become addicted to narcotics.
“Nobody decides to do this,” she said.
An Onalaska High School graduate, Rogers was in college studying to become a nurse when it started. She was 20 years old and living with a physically abusive boyfriend who secretly abused drugs.
For Rogers, it began with good intentions.
“Maybe if I do it with him, we can quit together,” she said of her mindset at the time.
What followed was a five-year spiral that cost up to $5,000 a month. It started with pills before eventually shifting to heroin “because it’s cheaper.”
In August 2018, Rogers had a choice after being arrested: jail or drug court. She chose drug court but admits she “didn’t take it seriously” for four or five months.
According to NIDA, nearly 92,000 Americans died of an overdose in 2020.
“I know if I kept using, I was going to die,” Rogers said. “Nobody wants to be a junkie, right?”
One of the issues, Rogers said, is the rise of drugs being laced with fentanyl.
The synthetic opioid is described by the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration as “approximately 100 times more potent than morphine and 50 times more potent than heroin as an analgesic.”
Intentionally or not, many drug users now have a supply laced with the opioid.
“Everybody uses it now,” she said.
Struggling to find the road to recovery
Part of the issue, Rogers said, is a poor understanding of what an addict looks like.
“That’s the lie we all want to tell ourselves, that it won’t be us,” Rogers said.
She remembers her denials when in addiction.
“I go to work, I’m not an addict. I make my car payment, I’m not an addict,” she said.
Rogers would see coworkers use that she didn’t know had a substance issue.
“Everyone is capable of becoming an addict,” Rogers said. “We’re all just one step away.”
Meckle agreed.
“People are really just one prescription away, one accident away,” he said.
In a better place
In June, Rogers graduated from Centralia College with a bachelor's degree in behavioral health. She sees her current role with Drug Court as a way of “giving back to the community.”
Drug Court is a voluntary program for those struggling with addiction and charged with a felony which typically lasts between 16 and 22 months. Successful graduates have their criminal charges dismissed.
Last month, she started work on a master’s degree in social work from Grand Canyon University. She said she plans to stay in the community after graduation. Now nearly five years sober, Rogers said she’s comfortable discussing past mistakes.
“I think it’s important to be open about overdose and addiction,” she said.
