I was just a recreational drug user. I snorted pills and drank smoked meth once and smoked perc 30s but never did anything hard. I never thought that I would use a needle because I was scared to death of them. So I continued to snort heroin even after I got busted for selling 30s to an undercover when I was set up by my brother’s baby mama. Well that’s when it went downhill.
I hung out with with a hard core needle junkie and she kept asking me everyday if I wanted to do and finally I did. I let her shoot me up with heroin and it was just bad news from that point. Once that warm, tingly, fuzzy feeling shot through my body—there was no feeling like it. I had never felt anything like that before, and I just kept wanting to feel that way. My husband would give me money and he thought I was just snorting it until he found a needle and a spoon hidden in a hole in my purse. I told him I liked it and wasn’t going quit. After a while, he just let me do it at the house so I didn’t get arrested for being passed out in my car at Food Lion or a gas station.
He did it because he loved me and he went against everything he stood for to make me happy, no matter how miserable it made him. I didn’t care: I just wanted to get high.
When he couldn’t give me any more money—because we didn’t have it—my friend told me that she knew how I could make money.
That’s when I slept with someone for the first time for money, in the woods out past Quiet Dell. It was degrading and disgusting and I’ve never felt so low and dirty, but when you are dope-sick and need a fix, you’ll do what you have to do. Another time, I was alone one weekend and my friend was out of town, so I got a hold of some stranger on the internet and he was paying $300 for an hour, so that worked for me. He had a handgun when he got to my house. He said he didn’t know me so he wanted to be safe. I told him I didn’t want it in my house, and he didn’t want to take it to his car, so I told him to just leave. Well, he put his hand on my throat and the other over my mouth and held me down. Then he pulled his gun out, cocked it, stuck it to my head, and told me to bend over. Well, when he finished, he threw 200 dollars on my couch and left. About 20 minutes later, I got my dope and didn’t care that I could’ve died.
My husband eventually found out and left me. My kids wanted nothing to do with me and all my friends had abandoned me at this point. I weighed 94 pounds, never ate, slept an hour a day. I spent my kids’ child support, and stole money from my aunt and husband when he let me stay with him. Stole pain pills from my uncle to trade, then pawned my daughter’s bow.
I spent 180 dollars on dope on November 7th when I got off work. I sat on my bed and cried. I decided that this was rock bottom and if you’re at the bottom, you can only go up. Well, I flushed everything and broke the needle. After that, I locked myself away from the world for almost nine days. When I shut myself away from the world, the hard part kicked in. I started sweating. Then I got chills and a fever. Then I had to stay in the bathroom for two days because I was either puking or shitting. I thought I was gonna die, laying on the bathroom floor in my own puke. I started seeing things and hearing voices and they kept saying we still have money, let’s go get a bun and get our fix, we will feel better. I prayed to God to just let my heart give out or let me choke on vomit because I couldn’t take it.
Kicking dope is the worst thing that you can go through in your life as an addict. I kept thinking, “I just want to get high and feel better so I won’t be sick.” Then I thought if I got enough dope and did it all at once I would OD and everyone would have one less junkie to worry about. Then I thought of my kids. I grew up without my mom and dad because they passed away—I won’t do that to my kids. And I just wanted my husband back so bad. He was the one person that stuck by and believed in me when I had no faith and no hope left.
After the eighth day, I started eating and drinking water. I was so worn out and sore and just fragile. But I hadn’t let myself use. And it’s been almost seven months since I threw the needle away.
My husband took me back and he’s never loved me more than he does now. He’s my rock, my support, everything. My kids’ eyes light up when they see me, especially my son. I love my kids and my husband more than I love myself. But I can finally say that I do love myself and I love who I am. I didn’t need rehab or subs or methadone. I stopped using heroin cold turkey and have not relapsed since. I’m one of the lucky ones who survived my addiction. I have four friends who weren’t so lucky and they lost the battle to addiction. I’m a survivor and I’m still here to tell my story.
Hopefully my story will help other people beat their addictions, regardless of what it is. The devil has many faces and I’ve faced the devil and I won. That’s my story.