When you're 10 years old and in school, they teach you that drugs are bad. Make you go through the program and get the little piece of paper at the end that says you know drugs are a big no-no. You know the dangers and you know the consequences. Drugs are the scary things that people in alleyways have. They have guns and knives and they might kill you. You might die, your friends might die and it's just not worth your life. And at 10 years old you agree. "No way! I'm not going to waste my life! I'm not going to be one of those people." So you sign the paper, thinking about all the good things you're going to do with your life and not be a drug addict, while you munch on one of the cookies the nice people from the police department brought to the presentation.
What they don't tell you is that sometimes when you get older you go through so much bullshit in your life that a break from reality seems like a very appetizing idea. Just to escape and get away from the pain of your life. So when a very charming man who tricked you into giving him your heart puts down some brown powder mixed with water on a piece of tin foil, you don't think of the little piece of paper you signed when you were 10. You think about his promises that it'll feel good. It feels like the weight of the world is lifted off your shoulders and it sounds exactly like something you'd like to do right now. So you do it. Because fuck it. Why not? You have no one anymore. Your family wants nothing to do with you, and you've lost all your friends. You have nothing left to lose. After that first drag his promises come through. You're on cloud fucking nine and everything is so warm and fuzzy. Everything is rose-tinted and your chest doesn't feel like it's being crushed every time you breathe. You're hooked. And it's just that easy.
That person was me, roughly 4 years ago. I started dating a guy; I'll call him JMM because even though he's a fucking piece of shit I won't incriminate him. I'm sure he'll do that on his own. He was so suave and said all the right things. Which in and of itself is a red flag. Ladies, never trust a guy who isn't nervous and bumbling around you when you first get together. He introduced me to heroin. But he didn't call it heroin. He called it opium. He never once told me what it really was, but I figured it out after some time and a few of his friends pulled me to the side and let me know he told them not to call it heroin in front of me. Instead, call it brown. I knew all of this and still loved him. Still worked 40 hours a week while he sat on his ass and converted my money to smoke in his lungs.
This relationship was abusive. I wasn't allowed to wear make-up. I wasn't allowed to spend money on anything other than drugs and butts. We once got into a 2-hour long screaming match over shampoo and conditioner. I wasn't allowed to see my friends. He was absolutely convinced I was cheating on him with my best friend, who happened to be a guy. I was always wrong. If I ever questioned him it was seen as some kind of grand betrayal. If I ever did something for myself it was as if I didn't care about him and I was selfish. If I took more of the drugs that I bought, I'm not being considerate. In his mind, he was the reason why I had everything I did. He was the reason I had a job, a roof over my head, food in my stomach, drugs to do, etc. He saw himself as my God. End all, be all. If he ever got mad at me for some reason or another I had to take a day or two and grovel. I had to beg for forgiveness. If he got upset with me while we were actively smoking a sheet he would just do the rest of it without passing it to me. He never once considered my feelings. He kept people around that I told him I didn't want around. I accused him of cheating and it was like the world was ending. How dare I accuse him! Don't I know what he does for me? Don't I know what he has to sacrifice for me? The audacity!!! But I was the psycho one because I accused him. If we ever got into a bad enough argument the walls and doors were casualties instead of my face. I couldn't tell you the number of times the cops were called because of us. One time it got so bad I ran out of the house and ran 3 miles away. If you know me in person, you'd know I run for no one and nothing. Walking is hard enough when I can't stop tripping on my own two feet. But I had to get as far away as I possibly could from him. The list could go on forever. I could sit here and tell you every little thing that happened to really paint the picture but I think you get it.
I spent almost 2 years like that. Fiending every single day. Stealing from people. High off my ass most of the time. Did terrible, shameful things. We did heroin, perc 30s, opanas, Xanax and kpins. Once in a while, we'd do coke but we both liked downers a lot more. There was even a very brief time when we sold too. But that didn't last long because we would do most of it. Because give 2 addicts 10 grams of heroin to sell and you bet your ass 6 grams would be smoked before the week's end. I ended up with 2 arrests. One was a bench warrant though. We did this for almost 2 years until he met his next victim and was done with me. Surprise surprise he cheated on me. I watched it unfold. I was a broken human being. I was an addict. I wasn't good enough and now I was homeless. But as the rest of my life shows, life finds a way. I got a new place to live a couple of weeks later. My best friend has been described as my guardian angel (which I find hilarious because she's an atheist) because she helped me out so fucking much during that time. She helped me keep my pieces together and helped me move and let me stay with her while I was trying to figure out what the fuck I was going to do. But I did find an apartment. I was still using a little bit. JMM was in and out of my life for about a month, we did have sex a few more times. But the last time I picked up from him I figured out he was doing everything he could to fuck me over on the play. He shorted my bag, told me I had to give some to the driver, and then also had to give some to him. So at the end of it, I got a 20 bag for the price of a .7. I had enough. I just couldn't do it anymore.
So I found myself sitting on my bed, looking at a Facebook of a guy who I worked with that I flirted with here and there, who had eyes that made me stop in my tracks. So I hit add because fuck it. I'm high off my ass, I'm not going to remember this in the morning so it's a problem for another day. About a minute after I hit add I got the notification he added me back. About .5 seconds later I get a message that said in his normal adorable David way "HEY WHAT'S UP????!"
The time stamp on that message is November 29th, 2015.
My soberversary is November 29th, 2015.
He changed my life.
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