I made a conscious choice to take hard drugs. I didn’t slide into an addiction because I wasn’t aware of the possible addiction. I jumped into it with both feet and full knowledge. Both times!
By the time doctors realized my health issues meant I would be off work for a very long time I looked like a hard drug addict. And people thought that about me. My mom asked me in the mall one day if I was doing hard drugs. At that point I had dabbled but wasn’t into addiction.
I was okay with dying. I knew it may be the result of the lifestyle I was choosing. But I felt like I was already dead so why not go out with a bang?
I had experimented with cocaine before. It wasn’t long afterward the person who sold me cocaine, James, came into my life to stay.
One ex convinced me to try crack, once, but I knew it would be dangerous so I never tried it after that until? When I was sick off work and felt like giving up I reached for cocaine. Maybe I could OD? I was naive about how that stuff works.
James didn’t have coke for me. But he asked if I wanted some crack instead. I told him I don’t even know how to smoke it. He pulled out his various pipes and a few rocks of crack and showed me.
That night, the first time I did it for real? It felt good. Better than coke and no nasal issues. And he let me smoke as much I wanted. When you are a beginner, only smoking crumbs not rocks, dealers can smoke you up to the point you need them. It costs them pennies. And one night of crack will leave you only wanting more! I became addicted quickly.
At that point I was on disability already. I was making the choice of hard drugs because I wanted to die with a bang but I still liked my apartment, etc. And crack is not cheap! So? I had my dealer move in with me.
I got a $20 piece a day. Every person who came to my place to pick up from him had to pay a tribute hoot to me. And every time he stepped up a notch in the dealer ranks? He attributed to having a safe place to work from. He rewarded me kindly. I could afford my habit because it was practically free.
Then one day there was concern about the traffic at my door. And one of his delivery guys, who often stayed at my place too, was getting unruly. I told James I would still buy off him but I needed him to move out. He left quietly, no problem, and still had his runners deliver to me at discount prices for three days.
Three days later? That unruly delivery guy beat James to death with a meat mallet and slit his throat in the new place they were staying.
That woke me up temporarily. I realized that wasn’t the kind of life I wanted. I realized how close death came to happening in my home again. It scared me a bit.
I quit smoking crack that day. Cold turkey with no program. I had cravings but no other dealer. I was too scared to seek one out. I went through withdrawal. That’s not easy, but I still didn’t go back. It’s been 8 years since my last hit of crack. My addiction lasted less than one year. I’ve been offered crack twice since quitting and turned it down. I’m confident it isn’t in my future.
Did I hurt people during my crack addiction? You bet! It’s when I pushed my family the furthest and did the most damage to my friendships. Even though most of them are still not aware of my addiction. I didn’t care about anything but getting high. I felt like I had nothing to live for so I didn’t care who I hurt by rejecting them. I was already being asked if I was on drugs because no one understood my health issues so why not make it real?
So what was I seeking? Death? What was I covering in the way of pain? Why choose that path?
Those answers I have yet to discover.