This is a story that has probably been heard before but it is mine none the less. I was not molested. There was no significant trauma that started me down my road. No sad prequel to the worst time in my life. Just a “natural” rebellion that started as a teen.
I used to swear I would never smoke Crack and the only one who would touch me with a needle was a medical professional. Lies… those were lies. At 17 I finally got high off pot (after trying a few times before) and soon after followed it up with an ecstacy and a whatever I could get my hands on chaser. It was marvelous. It was what I needed to curb my suburban boredom. Coke soon followed. I spent a year sniffing blow and loving life. It helped me lose that “baby fat” young girls have and allowed me to mix with the “cool” kids. Soon after I met a lost soul that turned me onto crack. I told him “I’m going to do this with you to prove a point, and if I turn into a head that’s on you.” I lied, to myself and him when I said that. I knew I would like it in advance, somehow.
After that we foraged into heroin. Weekend warriors. It wasn’t long until I looked at my pastry puff hands and while on my knees, begging for him to get it up so we could show our “love” some other way than sharing bags and needles; all while he was more preoccupied with the next hit more than making love to me; I realized: This is not who I am, this is not who I want to be. The three worst times in my life, to date, can be attributed to heroin.
I tried to get clean. I went to detox and on my first visitor day he offered me mushrooms. It broke my heart but we broke up then. He didn’t know it at the time. I’m sure he still wonders why I was crying the last time we fucked. It was because I knew I couldn’t be sober and have him at the same damn time.
I moved on, still fooling myself with a false sense of sobriety… I didn’t work it… It didn’t work. It didn’t work because I didn’t work it. I fell into pills, because they are prescribed by Dr’s so it must be better than street drugs. It’s backwards to most stories, I know. It’s a still a lie all the same. They are the same.
Finally got sober. Booze was never a problem. Yet here I am drinking booze every damn day. I have a problem. I truly am an addict. I used to fool myself; “oh heroin got me because it’s a physical need; pills are prescribed; I didn’t need booze (because I needed all the other shit more)”. I have an addiction to feeling other than I am. I use substances to feel other. I need help.