I believed in God as a child. I also believed in Santa Claus. When I found out that Santa Claus didn’t exist, I was upset about being deceived. I grasped the phenomenon of the lie and innocence was gone for me.
So began my journey into cynicism. God was another story. I never quite dismissed the notion that God was real. I’m superstitious. When I began getting high, I didn’t think much about God except for those beggar’s pleas when I was willing to try anything in desperation to get out of whatever mess I had gotten into. As my euphoria decayed into addiction, my thoughts on God drifted more toward the perception of drug addiction’s similarities to demonic possession.
I remember my moment of clarity. I was in a home. Babies were hysterically crying. We adults sat ignoring them as we stared with all consuming craving at the crack pipe being passed around.
This was our worship.
Cocaine was our God.
I felt at that point that if a God of Love and Truth did exist He would have nothing to do with me. I was damned. I tried to kill myself out of shame and guilt but something miraculous happened. God told me I was worth saving. It is delusional, I admit; perhaps drug induced dementia, but the experience happened and it changed my life.
I’m still an addict and will be always, but today I am no longer obsessed with drugs, I’m obsessed with Love and Truth ,a much more acceptable addiction. I am grateful for the chance to be acceptable to myself, the world, and God.
I hope to someday be able to understand what actually happened, but for now I don’t have the words. I only know that I’ve got a mission to give Hope and Help to all those suffering from addiction. With Faith in Love and Truth, I’m no longer afraid.