|
|||||||||||||
Stories with Photos 2Brooke
When I was 15, I started hanging with my cousin who was in the bad crowd. That's when I started drinking and smoking pot. Then when I was 16, I started doing meth and other drugs, but meth was the one that got me. My mother and father had no idea what I was doing, but then sometimes I think she did because I changed. I remember one time when I was tweaking real hard and I had been up for three days and the next day was thankgiving. I had to go to my grandmas for dinner and so me and my cousin did a little wake me up and we went to my grandmas tweaking. I feel really ashamed for that and I still haven't told her that because of how ashamed I feel. So when I was 18 years old, I moved down to Cedar city, ut and sirprisingly I didn't do any meth but I did get drunk and stoned a lot. About three moths later I moved back to salt lake city, ut and moved in with my sister. That's when the tweaking started again. It was on my sister's birthday and her brother asked her if I wanted to hit the pipe. At first I wasn't sure what she was talking about. I thought that it was a pot pipe but as it turned out it was a tweak pipe. Back then I would have taken a hit any time. So that's when the trouble started again, and I had been smoking ever since then up until about 3 month ago. After all of that I got sick of the drama that came along with meth and I decided to ask my parent for help. So my mother made some phone calls and I am now in drug recovery and damb proud of it. I think my problems stem from when I got into jr high, because I was never accepted in school, because I was different then the other kids. I nerver dated once in high school exept for my boyfriend now who I have known since 2nd grade. I was really tough to be different, and it got real tough when I ended up in a wheel chair. Now days I really don't care what people think of me if they don't like me beacuse I am different then I guess they have a problem. I hope my story makes sense. Well that's my story and I stickin to it! Cmom & Angel
I married at 17 years old. Shortly after that, my family transferred back to Florida. and I remained in Alabama where I still reside. My marriage produced my two beautiful children but unfortunately it ended abruptly after 10 years when my kids and I came home one day to find my husband in my house, in my bed with another woman. My children were 4 and 7 at the time. I had just recently gone back to work after staying home for years raising my children. I was only working part-time making $120.00/week. I was devastated, scared, hurt, and angry but most of all determined. I divorced my husband and raised my children by myself. After our divorce, my ex went on to become a full fledged alcoholic. I've always believed he was consumed with so much guilt over what he did that he couldn't live with himself. At times, I was overwhelmed with responsibility. I was in the right place at the right time and things worked out for me financially. I climbed the ladder of success but during the process; I developed an eating disorder... anorexia. Many of you may not realize that anorexia is a form of addiction. Just as your drugs get you high, the empty feeling in my stomach was my high. The issue it seems as though is "control." I felt like everything in my life was out of control and I had found something I could control... my eating. Anorexia is a very secretive disease. Nobody knew except me. It took years and 30 days in rehab for me to understand, but today I am in recovery just as many of you are. My son seemed to adjust to the divorce better than my daughter did. Over the years, he got involved in many sports and seemed to excel in everything he did. Although their Dad wasn't there emotionally, my son's coaches became his male role models. My daughter however, could just never find her niche. She tried sports but when she didn't excel right off the bat, she wanted to quit. I believe she felt like she had to live up to her brother's athletic ability. I tried to explain to her that she had to start somewhere and that if she remembered correctly, her brother sat on the bench many times in the beginning. We tried a number of extra-curricular activities but none seemed to fit. Over the years, my daughter seemed to be angry. That anger grew and grew. She was missing something in her life that I couldn't fulfill, her Dad. During the teenage years, I knew she had experimented with pot. She dated the same guy from the time she was 15 to 19 years old. He wasn't the person I would have picked out for her but he loved her and I always knew she was safe when she was with him. Other than her boyfriend, the one person that both my children loved more than anyone else in the entire world was their grandmother on their Dad's side. She was an angel. She was diagnosed with breast cancer when my daughter was 17. They removed the breast and thought they had gotten it all. About 6 months later, it showed up in the other breast. It was removed as well. Over the course of the next 2 years, the cancer spread to her lungs and then to her bones. What was once a vivacious, loving grandmother was now a grandmother who was slowly but surely dying a slow, long agonizing death. Both my children stood by and watched their precious grandmother go downhill. My son spent a lot of time at her bedside. My daughter on the other hand couldn't stand to see her grandmother like that. I believe, to this day, she regrets not spending more time with her during her last days. During this especially difficult time, she and her boyfriend broke up. She also lost her job. During a time span of approximately a month, her grandmother died, she lost her job and she was dealing with the breakup with her boyfriend. At about this same time, she met a new group of friends. She starting staying gone from home. I eventually found out she was staying in a hotel that had been rented for an extended period of time by her new group of friends. Needless to say, if I only knew then what I know now.... My daughter had found a way to numb her pain. She starting dating one of the guys in her new group of friends. They stayed from motel to motel never staying in one place very long. I found out through some of her friends that they were doing crack and the guy she was dating had stolen a HUGE amount of drugs from his dealer and they were on the run. Over the course of the next year, I didn't even know my daughter anymore. She kept in touch by phone but I rarely saw her and when I did, I was astounded at the way she looked. Even though her friends had told me, I was still in denial. One night I received a call from her boyfriend. He was in a rage. He told me I needed to come pick my daughter up. He then proceeded to tell me she was addicted to crack cocaine. The sounds that came out of my mouth sounded like something foreign. How could I not have known? About an hour later, I received a call from the jail. They had both been arrested for domestic violence and drug paraphernalia. My daughter's 1st arrest! I rushed immediately down to the jail to bail her out. (1st mistake) Her boyfriend had called someone to bail him out as well. Instead of my daughter coming home with me, she went home with her boyfriend. (1st major heartache) Over the course of the next 6 months or so, things declined with my daughter and her friend and he wound up in prison. She came home for a week or so then off she would go. She was basically living on the streets. She stayed at one person's house, then another. I spent so many nights crying and praying to God to watch after my baby. After about a year, she met Barry. I knew that chances were that Barry did drugs or they wouldn't be together but a part of me was so relieved that she finally had someone who seemed to care about her and she wasn't alone anymore. Sick thinking. Little did I know that Barry not only used crystal meth but manufactured it as well? They really didn't have a place to live. They stayed here, there and everywhere. I had begun dating a wonderful man who lives 2 hours away in Miss and I was spending just about every weekend at his house. My daughter and her boyfriend began staying at my house on weekends while I was gone. OH, if I ONLY KNEW AGAIN WHAT I KNOW NOW! They were using my house to cook. I would find little things that didn't add up occasionally and when I would ask about it there would always be an explanation. Things would come up missing at my house... little things like my electric screwdriver, my battery charger for my cell phone. my clothes. Whenever I would ask my daughter she would always admit to taking them and would promise to return them but of course she never did. Sometimes even during the week I would come home and I could tell they had been there. They were always gone when I got home... they made sure of that. At one point, I thought my daughter hated me. I remember asking my son what I had done that was SO bad that she would hate me. He looked me in the eyes and he said "Mom, she doesn't HATE you!" He said "She knows she's living wrong and she can't face you." He said "she knows you are going to question her, so she avoids you." I went back to my computer and sat there and thought for minute. I then went back in the den and said "how did you get so smart?" lol One day, I came home from work and low and behold, they had passed out in my daughter's bedroom. I am sure they meant to be gone before I got home. I tried to wake them to no avail. I thought "HOW COULD ANYONE SLEEP THIS HARD?" I walked in the den and sitting on my coffee table was a pipe that had been made out of a bic pen and a joint. Boy, was I furious! This time, they DID wake up and in a hurry. I woke them up by screaming "HOW DARE YOU DO THIS IN MY HOME? BOTH OF YOU, GET OUT AND DON'T COME BACK!" About a week went by and I didn't hear from my daughter. I took the pipe to the police department and asked them what it was used for. (I know, big dummy here.) They checked it for residue and found none and told me it was a marijuana pipe. HA (they don't know as much as they think they do.) Daughter's boyfriend later told me it was used to smoke meth and they had left some in my den, which they thought I had found. I didn't. They both called and apologized and I told my daughter, I thought she had a problem with drugs and she needed help. Of course, she denied that this was a problem. She was embarrassed over what had happened, or maybe that they got caught. I told her she was not allowed to come to my house anymore unless I was at home. They didn't. Several months went by and we talked by phone only. Then, one night, the dreaded call at 2:00 A.M. It was Barry and he was in jail and he wasn't sure if they had arrested my daughter. When I asked him why he said "you know, for the same stuff you found at your house that day!" I'm thinking "what are you talking about?" but I played along with it until he finally told me he had been arrested for a makeshift lab and possession of crystal meth. Several minutes later, my daughter called and she was in jail also. She told me they weren't going to keep her... that she didn't even know what was going on.! (BIG LIE) A part of me was relieved... FINALLY... Maybe this would be it. The next morning I called the jail and they told me my daughter had been processed. I went to the jail, NOT TO BAIL HER OUT... I had already made up my mind that this time, she would SIT. I wanted to talk to the investigating officer to find out exactly what happened. I was told when I got there that they hadn't decided if they were going to charge my daughter. They said Barry was taking the blame for everything. The officer told me he was meeting with the DA that afternoon and it could go either way. He said "either she will be charged or she will be let go." I sat at that jail ALL day waiting to see what would happen. I sat in my car for almost 6 hours until the verdict came back that she would be released. A part of me knew at that time that "this wasn't good." If I could go back and relive that incident, I would have insisted that they kept her. The mother in me wouldn't allow me to tell this investigating officer that my daughter was hopelessly addicted to drugs and was probably just as guilty as her b/f. I found out this wasn't Barry's 1st charge. He was out on bond from similar charges. They revoked his bond making it impossible for him to bond out. He, of course, wanted my daughter to come home with me. When we left the jail that night, she had me to drop her off "at a friends house" to take care of Barry's vehicle (so, she said). (2nd major heartache) She did come home the following day but she never stayed for any length of time. Barry would call frantic that she wasn't there. After 2 weeks, Barry confided in me that my daughter was pregnant! OMG! When I confronted her, at first she denied it. Later, she admitted it was true. She had promised Barry she would stop using drugs. She did come home and I watched her struggle. She would eat and sleep for a week, then off she would go for a day or so. This pattern continued for the next several months. I had gotten her an appointment with a doctor and 2 days before the appointment; she did one of her disappearing acts. In the back of my mind, I KNEW she was still using but just didn't want to face it. Her excuse was that "she forgot." (Oh yes, how do you forget you are pregnant?) The next appointment I could get for her was not until she would be almost 5 1/2 months pregnant. The pattern continued of her coming home and really trying, then disappearing. She never stayed gone more than 1-2 days and she always called me and let me know where she was. One night I went to bed and woke up the next morning to a note by my computer telling me one of her friends had come by to pick her up and she would see me the following day. 7 days went by along with her new missed doctors appointment and I hadn't heard a word from her. I was so scared. I just knew she was dead. Never had she gone that long without calling me and especially knowing she had this dr. appt., I just knew something BAD had happened. I cried and I prayed. I was driving down the road crying hysterically and I asked God, once again to please take care of my daughter and her baby. I had, several months earlier, found the KCI board and had been going there every day. Everyone I talked to told me I had to "turn it over to God." I thought I had. I would drop to my knees before I went to bed at night and beg God to do something. Little did I realize I wasn't letting go. I was still holding on to my daughter's feet. The day I was riding in my car, I knew in my heart that I had done EVERYTHING humanly possible to help my daughter and there was nothing left for me to do. At that time, I felt a "release" in the top of my head... kind of like someone were lifting the top of my head off my skull. I KNEW at that moment, that I had given my daughter and her baby to God... This time, for real. Exactly one week later, I got the call. She had been arrested with a friend of hers for attempt to manufacture a controlled substance in the 2nd degree. Almost 6 months pregnant and in jail! BUT... FINALLY I KNEW HER BABY AND MY DAUGHTER WERE OK!! I wanted them to keep her. I was NOT going to get her out. She was there almost a week when a friend of hers posted her bond. This time, she came home. This time, she cleaned up. We went and had a sonar done and she saw her baby for the 1st time. I think it was then that it became a reality to her that she had a life inside her. I continued to pray everyday that her little baby would be ok. Seeing her baby gave her the strength to do what she should have done from the beginning. August 4, 2002... little Madison was born... 8 lbs 6 oz... 10 fingers and 10 toes and the most beautiful baby I'd ever seen. Everything appeared to be normal. My daughter was a WONDERFUL mother to her baby. She adored her. She stepped up to the plate and assumed complete responsibility for her child. It was wonderful to see her so happy! I'm not sure when during the next several months that she started becoming restless because it happened gradually. She began going to visit old friends. I refused to baby-sit for her during those visits. I told her she didn't need to be going anywhere that she couldn't take her baby. She began having mood swings again. But. She was home every night so I didn't really think she was using again. Then, one weekend I left to go visit my b/f. On my way home Sunday afternoon, one of her best friends called me on my cell phone and told me she had the baby and had been babysitting since the night before. She said my daughter was supposed to pick the baby up at 10 that morning and she hadn't shown up. The baby was almost out of formula and she didn't know what kind she used! I KNEW immediately what had happened. I told her I was almost home and I would be right there to pick the baby up. When my daughter called several hours later, I instantly knew she had been using by the way she was talking. I told her I knew she had relapsed and I wanted her to take a drug test. She was IRATE and insulted (HA) that I would even ask her to do that. I told her she would not live in my home and do drugs. Later on that night, she came by; packed up their' clothes and she left. Talk about a heart breaking! Watching her walk out that door with my granddaughter was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. Over the next several months, I grieved... yes, literally grieved over the loss of my granddaughter in my life. I worried myself sick about whether or not she was ok. My daughter would call from time to time but she didn't stay in one place too long. I started getting calls from her friends that she was manufacturing again. Each time I confronted her, of course "they were all crazy and out to get her." On January 21, 2003, I got the call. She had been arrested along with 6 others in the place she was staying that night. There was a meth lab in full operation while my daughter and her 5-month-old baby slept on the couch. The task force busted in around 2 that morning and said the fumes were so thick in that mobile home that it caused respiratory problems that required medical attention for the task force. All involved were charged with manufacturing, possession of anhydrous ammonia and my daughter also was charged with child abuse. For some strange reason, the police released my granddaughter to a friend of hers. I went and picked her up. As I was on my way to get her, I received a call from Dept. of Human Resources informing me I needed to bring her to court for a hearing. When I asked "WHEN?", they said, "NOW." I'm thinking, "ok, this is just for a hearing." When I walked in the courtroom with the baby, the judge was leaving his office for lunch. I was approached by a social worker that told me they were going to take my granddaughter into DHR custody. I remember screaming "NO" I remember begging the judge to let me keep her. He was furious at my daughter. He told me in no uncertain terms that he wanted my granddaughter checked out by a medical doctor and before he released her into my custody he wanted an evaluation done on my home. As I walked out of the courtroom and left my precious granddaughter behind, I thought "WHY GOD!" This baby didn't do anything to deserve this. Luckily the drug test came back negative on Madison and I stayed on top of DHR until they got someone out to my house to do the evaluation. 2 days later, Madison was released to my custody. Since that time, the same judge automatically gave me FULL LEGAL CUSTODY of her. Madison is now 10 months old. Thank God she will not remember any of this. Strangely enough, as much as this child went through from the time she was in her mom's womb until after she was born, she has excelled in everything. She crawled at 4 months and walked at 8 months. Did I say how absolutely beautiful she is? My life has changed. I thought I was through raising kids. I thought it was time for me to enjoy what was to be the "rest of my life." When I feel myself starting to resent my daughter for the freedom I have lost, I look into my granddaughters eyes or watch her smile at me with admiration and it makes it all worthwhile. For those of you who feel like using drugs is only hurting yourself? Read my story again. Look inside my heart. Look inside the hearts of others that have husbands, wives or children who have been addicted to drugs. Many have asked me if I still love my daughter? The answer to that is "not as much as yesterday and not nearly as much as tomorrow." Have I given up on her? Never. My hopes and prayers are that someday she will get her life straightened out and give her daughter the life she deserves. Until that time, I am prepared to do anything I have to. I still have that wonderful man in my life who has stuck by me through thick and thin. The only thing that separates us is miles. When the time is right, we will make it work. To all my friends on the bulletin board, old and new, I owe you so much! You walked me through this from beginning to now. You gave me knowledge, wisdom, courage and strength. You never judged. You were always there to lend an ear or offer a helping hand. Thank you.Kathy (aka cmom) Emily
It didn't take long for me to become addicted. I only did it on weekends for the first little while but it quickly became a daily thing. I would binge for 3 or 4 days sometimes, go to work high, I don't even know how much weight I lost but it was VERY quickly... I'd go 4 or 5 days without eating. I only used for less than 6 months, but what I have learned about myself, the pain I went through and caused, and how hard it was to get off this drug to this day haunt me.
As I write my story I am on day 33 with no Crystal. I've experienced some amazing, terrifying, and indescribable things in my battle with addiction. I couldn't possibly even explain what I've gone through and learned in the past month. I feel GREAT! In the month since I've been home I've started my own company, accepted a contract to be the makeup artist for a professional dance company, and I'm back recording in the studio! I remember again what it feels like to be an independent person with dreams. There are really tough days and some that are even tougher but I feel more like "ME" than I think I ever have. I'm walking away from my experience in California a stronger, better, smarter Emily! This website has been a huge part of that! Em IanH is for heroin (my story)
I always considered myself an average suburban white male. I grew up in a very decent, educated family, with separated/divorced parents (they are back together now). I played baseball in little league and had above average grades. I began drinking in middle school, which very quickly turned into some marijuana, LSD, PCP, ecstasy and daily crack cocaine use and obviously I never felt there was a problem than, I mean all my friends did it too, why shouldn't I. I justified this by telling myself, "I'm only experimenting, I'm still young - I have all the time in the world, Im too smart for addiction, I know better." Whenever someone one puts themselves in an environment where there is alcohol, marijuana or 'softer drugs', there is usually a very high chance that some "hard drugs" will be close by (and a lot closer than you think), which is exactly what happened to me, over a decade ago. I was at my best friend's house smoking pot and doing ecstasy and a guy I knew from school showed up with some heroin. With my mentality that I was only experimenting and nothing could hurt me, I thought I would give it a try. It's not like addiction will ever happen to me right? I was way to smart to get hooked, too in-control. I snorted heroin that night (I wouldn't touch needles back than) for the first time and totally fell in love. Over the next six months or so on the weekends, I would usually get a bag or two of some white or black heroin to smoke and be in heaven for the next 48 hours. After about a year of snorting and smoking heroin I wasn't getting the same effect off it anymore and all my friends still were, however, there was a big catch, they were shooting up. So with my "brilliant" reasoning powers of a fifteen year old, I thought I would try this and of-course it shouldn't have any effect on my school work, family relationships, or life as a whole. Boy, I was so wrong. After that first shot, all I could think of was, "Oh my god, where have you been my whole life?, this is the answer, this is where it's all at". It gave me an euphoric feeling I had never felt before, not even from ecstasy and crack which I was smoking heavily by than; it became my girlfriend, my love, my mother and father, my idol and of-course my lifelong career. For the next couple of years, I shot heroin every single day and was financially capable doing so, after all both my parents were very well of and had a nasty divorce so money was coming in both ways. I knew I had a trust fund when I turn 21 so I had nothing to worry about. Eventually, I had to drop out of high-school because my habit consumed 100% of my time and thought. Before my parents found out I estimated I spend close to 45,000$ on heroin alone. Not because it was my money or because I wanted to, because my habit was so extensive. I was so convinced I had to. This needle had such a tight grip on me that I needed to stick a rig in my arm numerous times throughout the day. just to function. Now in retrospect it seems like such a sick and twisted thing to do to myself. My parents began getting suspicious about the money, (they never paid too much attention to me, if they would of they would of known years before by observing my behavior.) My dad searched my room and found the kit with the needles. He kicked me out of the house immediately and I spent the next few years between my mothers house, friend's couches and eventually making a home on the street in vacated buildings. All in the name of heroin. Well, the money ran out, my parents turned off the faucet and I lost my trust fund for good, so I had to find other ways to support this habit, I had to I couldn't survive without it. I began by driving friends around to company storages and the back of supermarkets to steal, and eventually I joined them. This very quickly led to breaking into innocent people's homes to steal whatever I could find - cash, jewelry, electronics and guns. All for my next fix. Believe it or not during this time I tried numerous times to quit. I went to 2-3 day detox's in hospitals (which back than were still funded by my parents). I tried everything from homeopathic accupunture to having a naltrexone opiate blocker implanted in me. Sometimes I would get close 30 days clean and eventually always relapse. This was the cycle for 3-4 years until my younger brother died in a drunk driving accident and when I met my ex fiance who was a user as well. All hell broke loose for me, I was so ready to die. I planned on using until the day, the hour and the second I stopped breathing and didn't give it a second thought. Being a junkie is all I knew how to do and all I ever wanted to be back than. I had been dead on six different occasions and been rushed to the ER because I over-dosed on heroin or morphine (four of them were intentional, if it wasn't for Narcan I wouldn't of been writing this now, of-course back than I never appreciated the Narcan shots because they send you crying from a warm heroin overdose into instant painful withdrawals. I used to get so mad I would fight the paramedics trying to save my life). I have spent time in jail for four felony charges of burglary as a minor and a few felony possessions of heroin, speed, cocaine and paraphernalia as an adult. Most of this time living on the streets without the ability or motivation to hold down a job. I couldn't stop, my spirit and soul were dead and beat. I thought there was no hope for me, lost cause. I honestly wanted to get clean but I learned to accept the faith I choose for myself. Today I'm almost a year clean. The last time I kicked I was strung out on high doses of heroin, meth and valium, I kicked at home by myself with no medical assistance and if my faith was to die during withdrawals I was willing to accept that. I don't believe we are powerless over our addiction and I strongly do believe it is up to us to change and when we do it is worth every second of it. I'm so grateful to be here today. I don't know what made me decide to quit or what gave me the strength to. I don't know why/if I even deserve to be alive today. The cost of my addiction and not just heroin but speed and cocaine as well are very considerable, I have a lot of health problems including hepatitis C, my body is defaced from injections, my parents still don't speak with me or want anything to do with me. Most of my family is ashamed of me and don't even mention me much anymore and I have to live with the guilt for the rest of my life. Sometimes people ask me if I would of done it all over again and knowing me I think I would of. I had to learn the hard way. Using and getting clean were two of the hardest things I did in my life and really all I ever wanted is to move on and live life as a normal person. I wasn't born an addict and I'm certainly not going to die as one. The whole point of this story is to scream out to every addict reading this that there is always hope. Even when you find your life is heading into a dark, twisted, ugly, crippling tunnel and you think there is no way out. I have personally been through it and feel that I have came out the other end of it a much happier, healthier, satisfied, wiser stable person than I could have ever even imagined, even before my addiction days. So please, even if you are only a month into meth or heroin or if you've been shooting for years and you feel you have the slightest, smallest, tiniest hint of a notion of willingness to get clean, to get healthy, to be happy and satisfied in life, there is a way out. I'm not at all different than anyone reading this, I don't have super powers and I certainly don't consider myself to be a strong willed person but there is a way! Keep trying, Don't give up!!! -ian. Habit progressionI wanted to write something about the way the addiction first hit me. Over a ten years ago. I wrote this about heroin because it was the first and last drug I ever did and what I can relate to most but you can really relate it to any drug. It was just my personal choice although I had a fair share of cross addictions. I'm sure some of you can relate to your own current or past habits but mostly this is for those who are 'curious' or just started using. AddictionAt first you are just curious. Maybe your friends do it, maybe you seen it on TV, maybe you read about it. Maybe you've done other drugs before so you agree to give junk a try and you absolutly love it. Because if you don't, all the following is meaningless to you. Sure it might make you sick for the first few dozen times you try it, you might even throw up and swear never to touch it again, no drug is worth getting sick over right? 1. You've heard about how addicting it can be, what it can do to you, but of-course, your different. Your too smart, too in control, it can't happen to you. How cool you feel when you get high, you can take it or leave it, maybe you even get it for free. You start feeling more powerful the more you use the drug, casually of-course. Makes the whole world seem just right. Perfect. You keep going like this for a little while, very carefully 'controlling' your use, only using on weekends, or maybe even once a month. 2. Then one bright day, you think what the heck, why should I wait for Saturday when I can do it Friday night as well. No problem. Right? Slowly you begin noticing that when you get high on Wednesday it would really shorten the long wait for the weekend. Then you notice that it's a rainy day. Why not get high? Oh, then you notice that's it a sunny day. Hey, why not get high? Oh, then you notice that you have a bit of a headache one day, you get the picture, why not get high? Oh, then your grandmother died, no reason to go threw something as depressing as a funeral straight. Yep, obviously time to get high. Or maybe you're just bored one day. Let's party. Nothing else can make this nightmare into a dream like a shot of dope. Then a very subtle thing happens. It's was so subtle to me I havn't noticed it until years have passed. You notice that your 'normal' feel good level starts to go down each as each week goes by. Little by little. Ever so slowly you can't even notice it. But it's surely there. You get colder inside. You get tired real easy. You notice that you start looking forward for more dope a day or two after the last shot wears off. Also if you can pay attention to the behavior of those people who you may or may not be doing this with. This is really interesting if you're on the outside looking in and you have no personal involvement with anyone doing it. You start to notice that everyone get an attitude. Gets argumentative. They get mean at times, hostile, manipulative etc. They'll take advantage of you if it suits their purpose. You'll see a lot of lying, hiding of bags, even outright beatings, and much more. 3. You finally decide that even if you junk for a few days in a row, your really not feeling any different than before. This proves that your in control. Right? Your own person proof. This may or may not be the first sign of a life long addiction. At about this time, if it didn't happen already, you finally decide to smoking or even injecting. Why not, it's cheaper. You only need about a third as much to get high. After all its simple emonomics and we are all financially oriented people. Good move, right? One day, after doing this for a few days straight, you run out. You wonder if the chill you feel in your back, the pain in your bones, the runny eyes and nose...could it be? No way, <b> Can't be! </b> Heres a little test, even if those first signs of withdrawal are not happening to you just look around. Look at anyone you may be doing this with. Take notice. Watch their behavior when the junk runs out. You need look real carefully or you may miss it. After all it's not going to look anything like the kind of pain and agony you've seen on TV or in the movies. But trust me, it's there. It's your body in what it perceives as being very logical - wanting more of what made it feel ever so good. It starts to actually need it to function. On and on we go. Using whenever you feel the urge. Smoking or even mainlining it straight. By this time, you usually can't wait until your "friend," scores it for you, so you decide to go down to wherever, and meet whoever by yourself. Nice bunch of people, eh? At least from my expirience you are about to meet some rather interesting folks. I'm being too generous. You're about to meet every type of street vermin, scraps, dwellers and lowlifes. Truly the scum of the earth. But that's okay too, because you can always comfort yourself, that you'll never be like that. 4. Your doing it every day and you surely do notice by now, that when you don't have any you feel like crap. Maybe its withdrawal or maybe its just your body responding to all the abuse but who has time to analyze which physical sensations are which. Bottom line, if you don't feel good, it's time for a pick-me-up. You may even 'quit' a few times just to show yourself who's really boss. And maybe you succeed. Aha see! I told you, you are still in control. Wow. Some people call it 'denial' but I think this is one of the true signs of addiction, the ability to kick and start again. You make yourself so convinced are still in control any way you can. And then one rainy day, you get really sick. I really mean god awful sick, yelling and screaming in pain. You really can't wait anymore. You can't wait for this illness to pass. You have to have a shot, a 'fix'. And you get it. Oh boy, belive me - there is nothing like a shot of heroin when you are really going through full blown withdrawal. I think in a way, its even better than the first few times. So... are we hooked yet? 5. Guess what, just when you think it can't possibly get any worse from here - it does. Sooner or later, you get tired of trying to quit. You're really in all the way now. This is usually where your job, your wife or girlfriend goes. This is where your family disowns you. Here is where you find yourself in a holding cell being treated like a lowlife junkie, here is where end up in prison for a long time, on methadone(what a horrible drug that is), on the street, stealing, cheating, commiting crimes, broke, sick and most of all pathetic. What a deal you got? "But what happened to me, I was so in control in the begining? " I knew it all, no one could tell me a thing because I knew none of this could happen to me. Now you don't just use a little bit here and there to relieve bordom or shorten the long wait for the weekend. No way. <b> Now you use everything you get anytime you can get your hands on it. </b> You would sharpen a basketball pin to get a fix if you couldn't find a decent syringe. You'll start shooting the veins in your forhead after you've gone threw and collapsed all the ones in your arms, hands, legs, feet and neck. Thank god non of this could ever happen to me. Thats how it was for me. Not to mention in any point of these stages you could find yourself in jail or dead. Of course there are exceptions to everything. But from my expirience they are very <b> very </b> rare. So if you're counting on being the exception. If you think you are still in control. If your 'too smart' or even if you've been shooting for years and think its too hard to stop now. You might want to give it some thought. -ian. Some things to think about that have helped me stay cleanDuring the years I used drug I came across a certain' type' of addicts that I was even almost jealous of. Those people that seemed to have completely given up on themselves or accepted their fate as a drug addict. I'm sure if you think about people you used with you can come up with some example of your own. Those 'special' people who no matter how bad it got, how much they loosed or where they were in life still seemed to have a prime directive in life geared toward simply getting a hold of and using more and more dope as time goes on. Anything that interrupted their flow of drugs was viewed by them simply as an annoyance, a brief inconvenience, but <b> never </b> any kind of blessing. I think for any 'normal' drug addict there is some sense of relief too when you stop using, even through withdrawal. That how it was for me at least. Anyway, In a way I was sure they had it a lot more together than I ever did. I used to tell myself, "I wish I was like that too. I wish I could completely give up this ridicules idea that I could ever be happy without drugs." But that was never me. Of-course now, I can tell that all that 'internal struggle' was really a big blessing for me. In fact, the struggle was the key for me. If not for those conflicting feeling inside me, I don't think I would have been able to get myself where I am today. Actually now that I think it through, most of those 'people' who have completely given themselves to drugs and no longer alive today. I am not trying to make excuses or saying I was any better than them while I used. Just that I was different and I think most of you who <b> have </b> gotten clean or are here at this site looking for help are the same way as well. Let's assume that everyone that came here for help, everyone that has some willingness to make their life better than it is on drugs have that same struggle inside them. Lets assume they were all seduced by one addiction or another and trying to find a way out, at all cost. <b> What does it really take to do it? What does it take to break the pattern and maybe even more importantly, to eventually be happy and maybe even enjoy being clean? </b> I don't have the answer, I am struggling with this myself although now I think I have a better sense of what works <b> for me. </b> First of all - I think some sense of maturity has <b> a lot </b> to do with it. Here's what I mean - for me, this meant dealing with being alive and all that comes with it without having to resort to burying all those annoyances, pains and hurts with some drug or another. Seems that with a lot of people these days, a quick button pain relief is acceptable. Like everything else, this has a place, but when you do it over and over and over again, especially with hard drugs like meth or heroin, you some how <b> kill your ability to deal with life. </b> I think that is a lack of maturity, no? I know everyone is different but for me, If you can deal with all of life's crap. Like the fear of challenges, shyness, rejection, pain, the feeling of not being good enough, anger, jealousness, long term suffering, death and even that sometimes life just seems too meaningless to live (these are just my problems, fill in your own). If I can deal with that <b> without drugs </b> not only it makes me stronger but I am able to enjoy what makes me happy and satisfied in life even more. That's what I mean by maturity. Another thing that really worked for me over these past 11 months is trying to 'expand myself'. I guess the only way I can really describe this is having the <b> willingness to do what you normally would not. To act differently than you feel. </b> It really doesn't matter what, just as long as you are willing and do it. Lets say you're afraid of a job with responsibility, get one. If you feel that you don't have enough education, go threw the necessary steps to educate yourself. Maybe your afraid of talking to the opposite sex, just give it a try. Maybe you've always been a very emotional person. Go out and do something physical. You get the picture. These are just things that I work on but I'm sure you can think of some examples of your own. The main thing is to push the envelope you have to one degree or another. What this did for me was actually broaden my capacity and sense enjoyment and happiness, even in the little things in life. You find out that you can do things you swore up and down you could never do. Maybe if your really lucky, you even get a 'high' out of it. This was just a whole new concept to me that blew my mind. Getting high without a syringe? When did this happen? For me, all these things plus <b> a lot of time away from my old lifestyle and friends </b> makes me feel confident and ensures me that I will be 'cured'. I know that the general feeling from meetings and rehabs is that no one really gets 'cured' from drug addiction. But what is the definition of being healed? How many years of clean time and how many meetings do you need to attend to have a little chip with a 'cured' on it? Look at the facts. If your using and you have that internal struggle going on inside you and your not really sure what to do with it. Maybe you'll find a way. Everyone I met here on this website or in my life who have broken away from addiction successfully in one way or another, have made some kind of <b> conscious active effort </b> to add new dimensions to their life and are generally really happy about it. I know for sure I am. The more stuff you can find pleasure and satisfaction in outside of the instant fix of the needle or a pipe or whatever else you do, the less you'll be interested in it. Thats just how it goes. Especially since we all done enough drugs to last us ten lifetimes, enough to let us know that addiction is not fun. I really didn't intend this to be this long and I hope it makes sense to some of you. -ian, Tel aviv, Israel, Apr 26, 2004 Laura SealsThe Beginning of it all.
The three of us hung around each other all the time and one night the kids dad decided to ride a motorcycle drunker than 90 Indians and didn't make it. Anyway after we were married we found out I was pregnant! Big surprise, I had had my tubes tide 6 years prior. But happy that we were having a baby was a blessing that I had a tubal failure. My Husband and I at this time owned 2 homes and three business. Were very active with our children, school events, camping fishing, baseball, softball, etc. Not to mention that I was also a registered nurse. When our son turned 3 years old my husband's mother Betty just could not handle our happiness and started her bull. Well our vow to each other made it funny to us at the time. My Mother-in-laws husband and father died in the same month each leaving her 1/2 million dollars CASH in lock boxes. Later she will find that she made a mistake telling me where the keys were. So my Mother -in-law made it her mission to split up our home. She paid people to say EVERYTHING about me. Mind you at this time I DID NOT DO DRUGS. I was a mother and A wife. Betty paid people to say I was a drug dealer, and that I did drugs. She paid several people guys and girls to call my husband and say I was having an affair with them. NOTE: I am not a lesbian nor did I or would I cheat on my husband. Everyday something drastic would be said that I did and then my husband started giving in to her and questioning me. Reminding him of our vow and how she has destroied alot in his life I guess he felt that it would be easier to give in to her and give up on me. My husband started beating be BAD - ran over me in My own car and hit me in my car with his truck. She then got to my parents as well. My parents disowned me because Betty had several black men call my parents and say I was having an affair with them. My father is archie bunker and my mother you can say is edith very prejudice. My parents told me to get out of there lives and never return. Then came the court battle. Having everyone on her side against me and my attorney we lost the case and I lost my children, my husband and my parents. That day I died inside and went out on a mission to finish myself off! But before I left MY home town I paid Betty a little visit in the night. I broke into her house and after she went to sleep. I tied her up and GOT the keys to her money and BURNED THE REST OF HER MONEY. I didn't hurt her I just tied her up and made her watch me burn her money as I told her why. "This hundred thousand is for my children, this hundred thousand is for my parents, this hundred thousand is for my husband and the rest of the money is so you can't hurt anyone else with your money!" I stressed the fact that just as I burned her money I would kill her if she even tried to press charges or told on me...... She didn't but she got a restraining order on me and I left state and went to Kansas City to die. Now after 5 years of an unsuccessful suicidal mission, this past November, Thanksgiving day, I was in treatment and got a phone call from my mother begging for forgivness and crying in sorrow. She said "Betty called us today and told us she paid all those people to say what they said about you". Instantly I wanted to live again. All I prayed for the whole time was for GOD to make her tell the truth. I prayed for nothing else though except to die. I should have died several times over but didnt because God had A plan for me. And today I know what it is. Today I have my parents back, my children back and a whole new respect for life. My husband well we talk, but there is no way I would take him back because he should have never broke the vow... He knew all along but was to scared of mommy to stand up like a man. I guess I had to show him how to be a man through the eyes of a woman! My-mother-in-law told my mom to ask me, if I could find it in my heart to forgive her, and tell my she loves me. What she does't know is that I already had forgiven her, but I will never let her have the satisfaction of knowing that I have. You know out of all this, Betty never had anything to do with my husband or the kids after the fact. Isnt that sick! I have learned a lot through this and I have in my eyes, become a better person. I am not who I used to be, I am a better me, and I think all three of my children like it, and so does the rest of my family. Once again I am the apple of my Daddy's eye and my Mommy's little girl. God really has been good to me. Thank you again God. Dear Meth,It has not been a pleasure to create you, nor inject you in my arm.
|
|||||||||||||
I was born with disabilities, I am a dwarf. You know like Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs LOL!!! Well, my childhood was awesome. I felt like my childhood was a perfect dream. Until I found some things out about my family. When I was 14 years old I found out that my mother was doing phone sex. Back than I didn't approve of my mother talking to dirty old men about sex and whatever else she talked about. So that's when my rebelion started.
I am a 47-year-old, single grandmother and mother of 2 grown children, a son and a daughter. I am raising my 10-month-old granddaughter as my daughter has been incarcerated since January 21 of this year. I was raised by two wonderful parents who celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary last Thanksgiving. My Dad was always and still is my rock. He taught me to be strong, to be responsible, good work ethics. I always admired my dad and I am still today "daddy's little girl." My mother is sweet and kind, honest and pure as the driven snow. She is a true "southern bell." She never cussed and she never told a lie. Her biggest downfall was that she worried constantly. She had tremendous empathy for others. That can be a great trait and it can also kick you in the butt. She has always "tried to protect" her children from anything she deemed harmful or hurtful. To this day, she still "protects." They say you live what you learn and this is true. I became a "protector" as well. In the 17 years that I lived at home, I never once heard my parents raise their voices to one another. On the other hand, I never saw them hug, kiss, being playful, etc. The love we shared in our family and especially between my folks was understood but unspoken.
I moved from Utah to California to be with my best friend. I had high hopes for this move. I felt that it would be a great opportunity for me to progress in life so I packed my things, quit my job, left my family and friends and drove to South Orange County. I didn't find out until I got here that my best friend was addicted to cocaine. I had been doing drugs recreationally for a long time and had never had a problem at keeping it at that. I did coke with him right away and did it quite a lot, but when I realized how addicted he was, I got really scared. He lied about it, stopped paying his bills to buy Coke. Isolated himself from people that cared about him, surrounded himself with other addicts, stopped doing the things he normally loved to do... I fought so hard... worried, cried, lost sleep, trying everything I could possibly think of to get him to stop. He kept telling me that the only thing that I could do to help was back off. I literally didn't know how to do that. It got to the point that I told him that I couldn't think of anything else to do and that he just needed to keep it out of our home because it was getting too hard for me to turn down and I didn't want to become an addict like him. He did, for the most part, respect that but then I just never saw him. He tried so hard, bless his heart, to quit. I could see it in his eyes... the desperation... and lack of soul... literally. The person that I loved more than anyone in the world was disappearing right before my eyes and there wasn't much I could do about it. I felt helpless...ashamed that I was failing as a best friend. Then he started using meth...
I came to the conclusion, that this drug is more powerful than any non-user understands. It takes a hold quickly and doesn't let go easily. It becomes your best friend, your family, your lover, your soul mate, your source of happiness even though it's all a facade. When I was on the other side of addiction and worrying for my best friend people would tell me.. .there's nothing you can do... they have to want to do it for themselves or it will never happen. It used to make me so mad!!! I realize now though...it's true. People told me that I just needed to end things with him and leave him but I knew I wasn't willing to do that...and now I'm a recovering addict and my best friend is no longer in my life.
My name is Ian, I am from California originally but now live in Israel my uncle and his family. I'm twenty-four years old and have been using drugs since my early teen years, I'd like people to read my story just too see how far these drugs can take you and how much pain they can cause not only to you but everyone who cares about you. I'd also like to convey that there is definitely hope in this addiction battle we are all fighting in one way or another.
I will tell you now how it all started. 11 years ago I was married to the most awesome man in the world who had the most dreadful, miserable, mischievous mother in the world - Betty. The both of us very aware of what kind of bull crap his mother is capable of, vowed to never let her destroy us like she has with his other relationships. My husband and I grew up together and had NO secrets. We were married after the death of the father of my first two children.