Drug Addiction Stories

Stress used to be my excuse for everything.  I had a wife, a family, a job, a house payment, bills, the stress just kept adding up.  I seldom had time for myself, everyone wanted a piece of me.  When a friend slipped me some cocaine one night and told me it would help me relax, I thought “why not?”  We were on a business trip, it did not seem to have hurt him any so again, why not?

I did not realize that I was saying yes that night to just one more demand on my time.  At first, I thought it was just letting me know that I needed a break from all the stress and responsibility.  It took quite a while before I realized that it was actually the opposite, the cocaine was demanding more and more of my time, my mind, my body and my money.

My wife knew something was up but even in her wildest dreams she never suspected cocaine until the day she cleaned out my blazer pocket to get it ready for the dry cleaners.  When she pulled out the white powder, she was honestly shocked.  She came in to the bedroom where I was still sleeping that Saturday morning and admitted that she thought I was having an affair, but she was stunned to find out about the cocaine use.  She told me she would help me with anything and she would accept anything: an illness, me losing my job and working for minimum wage, but she would not tolerate drugs because of our children.

She gave me an ultimatum that Saturday.  On Monday she moved out.  Within a week, my friend who had gotten me started on cocaine had lost his job.  That was an eye opener for me.  I called my wife who was staying at her sister’s house and told her what had happened.  I told her I realized I needed help or I would be next.  My employer was a reputable Fortune 500 company but if I did not get help on my own, they might show me the door as well.

That was four years ago.  When I went into rehab, my wife came home.  We underwent marriage and family counseling as well as sessions to deal with my cocaine addiction.  Those marriage counseling sessions opened up our lines to communication in ways we had never experienced.

Turning to cocaine was wrong.  I do believe my marriage is stronger now, but it would have been nice to have just gone the marriage counseling route and sidestep the cocaine addiction altogether.  Still, I am just grateful we got a second chance at all.

I was sitting in the restaurant having lunch with my girlfriends that Saturday he came up and gave me a big hug.  He smiled charmingly at my friends as I introduced them.  Before I could say who he was, he told them all I was his baby sister.  They looked at me questioning. 

Yes, this was my brother.  This was the guy who had done drugs for the last ten years, who could not hold a job, who had gotten to the point where all he did was sit home and snort crack.  He noticed my ring, the reason why my friends and I were out that day, a celebration of my engagement as we planned the wedding. 

“What?  Stacy, you have been married about six times already, come on.”  My girlfriend, Carla, leaned in and asked “He really doesn’t know you very well to be your brother, does he?”

No, he did not.  My brother had left mentally years ago.  He put drugs ahead of family, he was not there for our mother’s surgery or our father’s funeral.  He only called one of us when he needed money or to be bonded out of jail.  Daryl just could not be bothered by anything except getting his next fix.

He asked when I was getting married and I told him on our dad’s birthday.  He shrugged and hugged me and said, “Call me.”  How could I call someone who did not have a phone?  Who did not ask how our mom was, how the rest of the family was, and who could not even keep himself straight from day to day.

Then he leaned in and whispered that he needed me to take care of his dinner bill.  He left his wallet at home, he claimed.  He handed me the ticket without waiting for an answer and kissed me on the cheek then told his waitress his baby sister was taking care of his tab. 

That is what having a big brother on crack does.  You only see him when he wants something, he tells lies, he can not remember his own little sister has never been married and he hits you up for money one way or the other even if it is not to pay directly for his drugs.

My friends leaned in and hugged me or touched my hand and said “It’s okay.”  A couple of them had family members who had been into drugs and they understood.  They promised to get me through any future storms with my brother if they occurred.   Still, as I watched Daryl walk away and pulled out an extra twenty dollar bill to pay for his lunch, I felt a touch of sadness as I realized that my big brother had probably already forgotten seeing me in just those few minutes.

My name is Joe and I want to share my story with you. Looking for a job is hard when you are a drug addict, especially if you have a record. It can be done but still, it is hard and it is stressful. People are getting jobs and I am sitting here trying but the minute I tell them I did time for dealing and using, I get excuses and sometimes even a blunt “No thanks”.   Sometimes, I feel like I am still in jail. 

I guess if I had any advice to give someone who is on drugs it would be to get clean now, especially if you do not have a record because once you get one, it is gonna be hell trying to get a job. My mom gripes that I need one but she does not understand how hard it is to try to get one after the stupid stuff I have done.

About the third or fourth time someone tells you no or you feel a change in their attitude towards you, then you just do not feel like trying again, you know? But I am about to get evicted and I know my mom and dad do not really want me moving back in.

Sure, if I had it to do over again, I would do it differently. But what is more important, the fact that I am honest on my applications or the fact that I made a mistake in the past? Are you telling me that no one else made a mistake, that everyone else is perfect?

So what did I end up having to do? I ended up having to lie. I got a job at a fast food restaurant because when it asked on the application if had ever been convicted of a felony, I marked no. I cook burgers and fries now for a living but hey, at least it is something, you know? I am thirty years old and dealing with teenagers and when I see them messing up, I take them aside and try to explain to them that one of these days they will regret the stupid stuff they are doing but they just laugh, look on me like some old geezer (at 30!) and call me Holy Joe behind my back. Yeah, I have heard them do it.

Trust me, if you do not have a record, go get clean before you end up with something that is going to follow you around the rest of your life. If just one of you kids listens, I will know I did something right and made a difference in at least one person’s life to the good instead of all the damn negative stuff I did over the years. Call me Holy Joe, call me whatever, just think that maybe, this old geezer does know what he is talking about.  You do not want to live the rest of your life in a prison without bars.