My Addiction

My Addiction

I was ten. I was hanging out at my Dad’s old liquor store. I was with the twins. They were two red-headed girls who lived up the street.  Mary & Elizabeth were their names. I used to hang out with them when I was visiting my Dad at the store. They had stolen a pack of cigarettes from their older sister. I remember they were Parliament Light 100’s. We were cutting through the woods on our way to their house, when Mary pulled out the pack.  She took out a lighter and put the cigarette to her lips. She inhaled like a pro. I remember I thought she was so cool. She asked if I wanted a hall. I accepted. I took a puff and I thought I would choke to death. We all laughed. I tried it again, but this time when I inhaled Elizabeth yelled out, “your mothers coming.” I gasped and realized I had just inhaled the cigarette. It tasted gross and smelled, but I kept doing it. I smoked the whole thing. I felt older and more mature. I felt cool.

I was 12. Hanging out with a girl who lived down the street. Her name was Hannah, my dad used to call her the whiner. It wasn’t a nice thing to say, but it was the truth. She had just come back from a trip to Colorado. She was visiting her cousins. She was so excited to tell me about her trip and how she tried pot for the first time. The way she described it sounded like so much fun. I was intrigued. That’s when she reached into her pocketbook and pulled out the joint. We walked to Nash School. It was my old elementary school, but it closed down in the second grade. It was around supper time. She handed it to me. Here you do the honors. I lit the joint and inhaled the smoke. It was harsh. I took a few hits and I passed the joint. We smoked the whole thing. Wow this was cool. I felt different. But a good different. I liked this feeling. I wish I felt like this all the time.

I was 15. We were at a party drinking. I was drunk. I was hanging with my friend Amanda and her new boyfriend. He was older. By a couple years actually. We were all playing Asshole (it’s a drinking game). Anyways. His friend pulled out this baggie and the contents was white. He grabbed a plate from the cabinet and dumped out the bag. He snatched a credit card and a bill out of his wallet and then began to break up the rocky substance. I knew what it was but I asked anyway. Is that cocaine? I was nervous. I mean I was only 15. Those were heavy drugs. He broke out a few lines, put the straw to his nose and sniffed. He passed the plate to his right. The next person did the same thing. And the plate went around the table. It was my turn. I took the plate and stared. Everyone’s looking at me now. Should I do this? I’m scared. I’ve never done anything like this before. I ask, “What it is going to do to me?” They said it would wake me up, make me feel good. I looked down again. Screw it I said. I’m drunk let’s have fun and then I sniffed the line. I felt my heart begin to race. My jaw was moving side to side. I felt it. I was high.

I proceeded to dabble in drugs. I used cocaine with alcohol, but only on the weekends, and smoked weed every day. I don’t know what is was but I just loved the way I felt on them. And once I started going I never wanted to stop. Life was better on drugs.
I was 21 and my sister had just found out she had degenerative disk disease. It’s something that has to do with your back. Apparently it’s wicked painful. They prescribed her five mg Percocet. That’s where it all began.
We were at her house and I was helping her clean as per the usual. For doing it she handed me two white pills with the inscription 512 on it. I’d taken them before but only when prescribed. I liked the way they made me feel. So I popped them into my mouth. Thirty minutes later I felt it. That itchy feeling you get. I loved it. I felt great. I had a ton of energy. There was just something about it, I can’t describe what it was. I continued doing them occasionally but not too often. A lot of my friends starting using oxycontin at the time and I hated what it did to them. It turned them into junkie thieves. Someone I wasn’t interested in becoming. I didn’t understand their addiction.

A couple years have gone by now. I’m 23. All my friends had graduated from the oc’s to heroin. I couldn’t believe it. My sister caught a habit too, but now she was immune to the fives and started taking 30mg Percocet. She had to buy them on the street though and I was her connect. This is where my life took a turn for the worst.
His name is Ricky and he’s my boyfriend. He was the kid who sold me the pills for my sister. I knew him from high school, but we were never really friends. Just an acquaintance. Well we hit it off and we started dating. That was four years ago. I think just being around them so much made me curious so I tried them. I was hooked instantly. Not physically but mentally. I caught a habit quickly. They were free so I rationalized that it was OK to do them because I wasn’t spending money. I was still paying my bills and doing the right thing elsewhere in life. Well I was wrong in thinking I wouldn’t catch a habit. I did. And it was bad. I started selling the pills to support my addiction. I was using at least twenty a day at that point. I couldn’t believe it. I had become an addict. Something I used to be disgusted with. Something I swore I’d never be. I did a stint in detox but that didn’t work. I’ve done the outpatient detox which twice. The first time I quit for 2 months. But was sucked into temptation again. My second time was this past December. I’ve been clean until last week. Once again I’m sucked into this miserable life of addiction.

Why is it I lived my life for 23 years without needing that little blue pill and now I can’t even get through the day without one? I do drugs to feel normal. The anxiety is too much to bear without them. I guess it’s just my addiction. My new struggle. I’ll always be an addict. It’s something I have to deal with for the rest of my life all because I choose to get caught up in the life. To all the addicts out there you’re not alone. I know what you’re going through. I know your struggles. But we need to keep our head up and keep fighting. Never give up! Now I just need to follow my own advice. Keep your fingers crossed.