Personal journey to recovery inspired peer coach

MARINETTE – Beka Bussineau could have been a statistic on an opioid mortality chart. Instead, by dedicating her working hours to reducing the stigma often associated with substance abuse, she’s helping to save lives.

About 1,075 people in Wisconsin died from opioid overdoses in the 12 months ended June 30, 2024, according to the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. That’s down from 1,792 Wisconsin deaths from drug overdoses in calendar year 2022, the most recent calendar year for which the CDC has data available. In Michigan, 2,997 people died of drug overdoses the same year, the CDC said.

With personal experience overcoming a prescription pain-pill addiction, Bussineau works as a peer recovery coach at Biehl Bridges to Recovery in Marinette and the Recovery Friendly Workplace program for employers.

“I had some pain issues when I was in my early 20s. I was prescribed pretty heavy-duty pain medications and it spiraled from there,” Bussineau said. “I also enjoyed the euphoria from it and just really kept going to the point where I didn’t feel I could stop.”

While many people have succumbed to the disease and died from overdoses, Bussineau knows how important employment can be for those who are getting back on their feet after a battle with addiction. “Finding employment, finding some purpose was key to my own recovery and in sustaining it,” she said.

Bussineau said she hasn’t taken opioids or stimulants for seven and a half years now. She said a doctor’s prescription for Percocet, a narcotic that’s a combination of the opioid Oxycodone and acetaminophen, led to her addiction.

Opioid-based painkiller prescriptions for surgery, cancer and other ailments could be the first step in a deadly drug habit, experts say. When one prescription leads to another, the next step can be street drugs as some doctors cancel prescriptions, researchers said.

Bussineau’s prescription for 60 Percocet pain pills a month “never lasted that long,” she said. “Once it became clear I was addicted to them, I would call for refills too early. I would get very sick when I didn’t have them.”

When her doctor halted the prescription, Bussineau said she turned to the streets of Escanaba, where she said she had no trouble finding people selling pills. Besides opioids, she also used amphetamines, she said.

In 2010, Bussineau was cited for impaired driving. She tried to quit off and on for the next several years. In 2017, she was in legal trouble again. She wasn’t employed and drugs became a way of life, despite making her feel miserable. “There were many years where drugs were a full-time job at that point,” she said.

“I went to jail for the fourth time in my life in 2017,” she said. Then Bussineau was accepted into the Delta County Drug Court. She described it as “a very strict, very stringent probation with a lot of treatment involved.”

Those who fail drug court often are sent to prison. “Nothing else worked, so I decided to take a leap and try this…I decided it was time to change things. I had been on various drugs for a very long time. I was very sick and tired and wasn’t living a life like I wanted to,” she explained.

Drug Court made the difference for Bussineau. “It made me change my life around,” she said. The program requires outpatient counseling, such as a 12-step program or the Smart Recovery program, which Bridges to Recovery offers in Marinette. Drug Court also requires participants enroll in education or a job to help them rebuild their lives.

“By the end of this one-and-a-half to two-year probation period, the goal is to have the person rehabilitated to the point where they don’t have to go back to drugs, where they have a solid basis under them,” she said. She graduated from the program in good standing, the Delta County Drug Court confirmed.

Her goal was getting a job. “All I had on my record was four misdemeanor charges, and it was really, really difficult to find a job.

A lot of employers as soon as they see that mark on a record of misdemeanor changes, they are very hesitant to take a chance on that person.”

Landing a job meant finding a recovery-friendly business. She got hired at an Escanaba vocational rehabilitation program in 2018 as a job coach for people with development disabilities and mental illness barriers to employment.

Reflecting on her experience with several different treatment providers, Bussineau said the people who made the biggest difference were those who knew from experience what it felt like, the ones who could say, “‘I know you’re scared. I know that staying miserable is less scary than trying to get better.’ Sometimes that’s what a person needs to hear.”

A peer coach allowed Bussineau to feel accepted. “I think the biggest thing is being accepted no matter how much I disliked what I had done and who I was at the time. They were able to see my worth,” she said.

With their encouragement, she has found a new career helping employers understand the important role they can play in their employees’ lives.