Manda’s Journal Entry

After Manda died, I found this journal entry on her computer. She made this entry as she was descending into heroin addiction. It shows how shattered, depressed and devastated this drug leaves its user.

Phyllis Spitler, Manda’s mother

I looked in the mirror today but I’m not quite sure who was looking back. Sometimes I’m not sure who I am supposed to be , who I want to be, or for that matter who I need to be. I find it so hard to be just me. I play different roles for people. I play innocent for my parents. I play tough for my boyfriend, Chris. And hardball for the rest of the world. Doing this for so long I think possibly I have lost some of my true self. In my mind I fantasize going back along the path I’ve tread and piecing myself together again. Lifting up shrubs and sifting through the dirt I can see the  shining pieces of me lost along the way. But my smile rapidly fades as they thin and seep through my fingers. I try so hard to grasp what’s left…what I’ve found…but to no avail. Then I realize those shining pieces are only luminescent because of my tears…they shroud my trueness in a façade I cannot break; for the tears harden and incase my truth beyond what a chisel can carve away. Can I ever be repaired? I hope so. I battle every day to keep my head above water. I try so hard to make myself believe things will be okay. No matter how gruesome things get, I think positively and remember that one day I will be living my dreams if only I persevere, but where is the reward or even the halfway mark? How much longer do I have to struggle before it is in sight? Am I just fooling myself? Lately I’ve been thinking there is no such thing because I look in the mirror and see a face that is tired of fighting. I see a face that just wants to be free; a face that just wants to be me. 

Manda Marie Spitler