The Saturday after a July 10 mass overdose event in the Penn North neighborhood of West Baltimore, a survivor approached a community outreach worker with a plea.

“I came to save my life,” the woman recalled saying. “I was part of the mass overdose. I’m scared, I’m tired and I just want some help.”

But the help she needed wasn’t available for another two days, the woman previously told The Baltimore Banner, because nearby treatment centers were closed for the weekend — even after city officials touted an “all hands on deck” response to an incident that left at least 27 people hospitalized.

Weeks later, the memory of the mass overdose event — of snorting drugs from a suspected “bad batch,” passing out in a playground and waking hours later at Johns Hopkins Hospital — has continued to drive her quest for help.

“It was just a scared-straight moment,” the woman said. “That day could have been a death sentence.”

The woman requested anonymity to protect her privacy and speak candidly about a sensitive subject.

To get through that first weekend, the woman said she found support by calling into virtual Narcotics Anonymous groups. The Mayor’s Office of Overdose Response also checked in and offered assistance, after The Banner made city officials aware of her situation.

That Monday, the woman said she entered a seven-day detox program. The following week, she said she began attending daily group therapy sessions at a drug treatment program in Penn North, near the epicenter of the overdose event.

She said she continues to take her recovery one day at a time, knowing the road ahead can be long and fraught.

“My feeling was not to give up,” the woman said. “Because if you want help, you’re going to find it.”

The woman, who was born and raised in the Baltimore area and is in her 60s, said she began using drugs when she was 12 years old: alcohol first, then marijuana, cocaine and heroin.

Over the years, heroin became her preferred drug. She felt that it made her more outgoing, and she liked that it heightened her experiences of joy and pain.

The woman said she married, started a family and worked jobs at a nursing home and in a kitchen. She thought the life she built was a sign that she was in control of her addiction. Even after an extended family member died of an overdose, she didn’t believe the same thing could happen to her.

Still, she said there were times when she sought treatment. She said in 2008, she attended a program out of state that kept her clean for a few years and gave her hope that a life without drugs was possible.

The woman eventually returned to Baltimore to help care for her dying mother. Six months later, she said she relapsed and returned to regularly using heroin.

On July 10, the woman purchased a $3 pill from a drug dealer on North Avenue and received a second pill for free. After breaking off and snorting a piece of one pill, she said she quickly felt dizzy and began hallucinating.

Soon, she said, she collapsed and blacked out.

The same day, first responders discovered dozens of people overdosing simultaneously across West Baltimore, a scene that public officials, advocates and residents widely described as unprecedented. Five more people were hospitalized in a second mass overdose incident in Penn North just over a week later.

No deaths have been reported in connection with any of the mass overdoses. But the woman said that in more than 45 years of getting high, she had never felt so close to dying.

After a two-day hospitalization, she said she resolved to restart treatment for the first time in more than a decade.

Last week, the woman began attending group therapy for six hours a day, which she said has helped her understand her addiction and connect with her spirituality. She lives in housing provided by her drug-treatment program and works in a kitchen.

On weekends or days when her treatment is canceled, the woman said she keeps busy in the library or logs into Narcotics Anonymous’ virtual groups. Listening to other people’s stories of recovery, she said, fills her with hope.

When she experiences the urge to get high, it’s a reminder of how fragile recovery can be, she said.

Each day, she sets small goals, trying to make it to midnight without using.

“I have to stay real vigilant and make sure that every single day I fight for my recovery,” she said.

The mayor’s office urges those seeking immediate help to call 988 for free, confidential support 24 hours a day. The hotline connects callers to services such as Baltimore Crisis Response Inc. For medical treatment during business hours, call the SPOT Mobile Clinic’s telemedicine line at 443-483-6150.