Drug Addiction Stories & Info

I woke up this morning to news of a deadly shooting spree. It took me back to a few years ago when I lived in New York. To the night when my friends and I were so messed up on cocaine. To the night when we decided to go flirt with some guys down at the corner bar. 

We walked in and looked around for them. We were so messed up and giggly and stumbling around. Then it seemed like everyone was pointing at us. Suddenly, I heard gun shots and people screaming. It seemed like it was all in slow motion. I turned around and saw a guy in a mask pointing a gun at us. He shot it just as he fell backwards, from what I later learned was a gun kept behind the counter and used by one of the bartenders.

My best friend fell down. I looked at her, not believing she was gone. She was. My other friend grabbed a couple of drinks from the bar and splashed us both so it would seem as if we were drinking. The cops bought it. They could tell everyone was shaken up in the bar.

I called my parents later that night and they drove from New Hampshire the next morning to get me. They took one look at me and they could tell. I was not the same Tania they knew. Before the sun was down I was in a residential drug treatment program. Not only did I get clean, the counselors there helped me to get through some of the trauma I had gone through that night at the bar when my best friend died.

I am doing better these days. I moved down south near my cousin and went to work at the company she works for. Still, when I wake up to news of a shooting spree like I did this morning, it brings it all back. I picked up my cell phone and called a friend in my NA group. She listened for a bit. It helped. I went to work and then went to a meeting right afterwards.

There, I can pull out the picture I keep in my wallet of me and Angie. I can show them and they know, many of them having lost someone. See, I feel like I lost my best friend not just through a shooting spree, but also because we were messed up on coke that night and wandered down to the corner bar. Maybe if we hadn’t been on drugs, we would have been at the movies or a party or somewhere else and she would be here today.

It’s still on the news, having only happened this morning. But with the help of the meeting and my sponsor, I am able to get through it. My heart goes out to those who are starting a nightmare of deja vu I live nearly every day, a nightmare that Angie did not survive.

You always want your child to be safe. If he is in a fight, you want him to come out of it okay. What if the person your son is fighting is his brother? That’s a biggie. That’s a hard one. That’s the one where there is no way to support one without hurting the other. That’s what drugs will do 

One gets high on crack and throws something across the room, hitting a friend accidentally. His brother jumps up and yells at him to chill out and act like a man. Suddenly they are both fighting each other. How does that happen? Are these the same two young men who grew up so close in age and looks that people often mistook them for twins? Are these the same two who joined a baseball team together and wandered the halls of high school more like best friends instead of brothers?

So what happened? One night the older one got messed up on crack after work with a couple of buddies from the fast food joint he worked at. He felt such a euphoric rush, he wanted to experience it again. And again. And again.

He hid it for a bit but his brother found out. Then his parents. Then his mood swings got bad as the addiction came to stay. He became increasingly paranoid and violent when he was in need of a fix. He had thrown a lamp across the room because the friend had refused to loan him some money to go get some crack.

A fight between two young men turns rough and violent and bloody. One yells he can’t understand where the brother went to that he grew up with while the other tells him to try the crack sometime and he would understand. The mother steps in and gets knocked in the face, causing a greater fight.

She breaks down in tears and they stop. Somehow, some way, he sees that his mother has been hurt because of his addiction. He cries out “I’m sorry” as he sinks down beside her. Right then and there he promises to get help. She picks up the phone on the end table and hands it to him. “Do it now.”

He calls the local rehab center. He doesn’t even question why or how his mother knows the phone number by heart. Arrangements are made and she and her younger son drive the older one over to the treatment center.

How do I know this? It was us. My husband was at work that day four years ago when my sons got into their argument. Today, they are close again. I’ll never forget that day, though, when things had to hit rock bottom before my son got help.

Several years ago I was addicted to drugs. I took some money that did not belong to me. Now I live with a record and a hard time getting a job. I will take anything but as soon as people hear I have a record they walk away.

I don’t know what to do. My girlfriend broke up with me. She said she doesn’t need a guy that can’t get a job. It isn’t like I’m not trying. But I can’t even get a job at a fast food restaurant. How am I suppose to do the right thing if I keep getting turned down?

The other day I ran into an old buddy I use to smoke crack with. He is still into it. He invited me back to his place to have some. I was tempted, I really was. I mean, why try if I am going to get the door slammed in my face? Why go out there if I am going to get rejected? But I have been clean for three years so I just shook my head, said “no thanks” and walked away.

The crazy thing? I have friends who did drugs who have jobs. I have friends who beat up people who have jobs. They stole money, too, but those charges were dropped in order to get the felony charge plea bargained. My misdemeanor has me kicked to the curb while their felonies are getting a tax credit these days for companies.

I’m going to go to a meeting now. Writing this out, getting my feelings out, it made me feel better. I see from your site that I am not alone in having problems. I actually see my problems are not as bad as those of some of your readers. Thanks for having a site where people can share. It’s like going to a support meeting. Knowing I am not alone helps a lot.

Somewhere out there is the job for me. In the meantime, I keep doing odd jobs for people who know my parents and my brother. I keep going to my meetings and I am keeping a positive attitude. Okay, most of the time, I am keeping a positive attitude. You know something? I know I am a winner. Walking away from temptation the other day proved that. Thanks again for letting me get this off my chest.