Drug Addiction Stories & Info

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.

I was helping at the Food Mission that day when I heard my name called. I looked up and there he was: my older brother. That would be, that should be a good thing but my brother had been on drugs for as long as I could remember. It had cost him everything, his wife, his children, his way of life. He and our dad had fought over it for years before our dad passed away. 

I hugged him. I could see by the look in his eyes that he was on something even as we spoke. He went around to everyone and said “That’s my sister, that’s my baby sister.” I excused myself after a bit and went into the office and called our mother. I told her that Scotty was at the Food Mission.

“Can I give him our phone number, Mama?” I asked. She hesitated, wanting to say no because of all the times he had stolen from us over the years. Finally, she said “Of course, he’s family.”

I went back out to the room where we were giving the food and Scotty came up to me. He was jabbering a mile a minute and I could not really understand him. Our Outreach Counselor saw us and came up, asking if there was anything he could do. He could tell Scotty was obviously on something, too. When people came through who were high or drunk, he would try to get them to get help so they did not hurt themselves or anyone else, especially if they were driving.

Scotty again said “This is my baby sister” and stumbled. I said “Scotty, what are you on this time?” He insisted he was fine but there was really no doubt. Then he stumbled again. We got him into a private conference room and I kneeled down next to him. I begged him to get help. “Scotty, you have been on drugs for as long as I can remember. Please get help. I want to know what it is like to have a real big brother. I need you. Mama is sick and I need you.”

Scotty looked into my eyes without blinking. I was praying inside and tears were running down my face. Then he did an amazing thing. He looked at the Outreach Counselor and asked him if he could really get help today. Within an hour my brother was checking into a residential program in our town. I was put down as his next of kin and I visited him during family visitation times and went to the available family therapy sessions.

That was two years ago. Today, Scotty is rebuilding his relationship with his own two children and he volunteers at the same Food Mission I do. We have gotten closer and for the first time in my life, I know what it is like to have a big brother. It’s awesome.

We had a lot of fun that summer. Journey was touring and they were playing right next to where our carnival was set up. My sister and I were fifteen and sixteen and we were thrilled that Journey was touring. Then came the news. After the carnival closed, we would be letting them in so they could enjoy the carnival on their own without having to worry about fans hounding them.

There was a carnie that summer I was crushing on. He was cute but our dad told us to stay clear of him. We only worked the carnival in the summertime and we loved it but we were in school the rest of the year and Dad and Mom were back at work doing their jobs.

The carnie, his name was Dave, talked me and my sister into going into his RV. The other guys were drinking and they had some white powdery stuff. Although we were “carnies”, our parents were quite protective and we did not really know what that was. Still, I wanted to seem cool to Dave so I tried it. My sister, being uncomfortable, slipped away and back to our RV. I had no idea I was on the verge of ending my own journey through life.

That was all I remembered until I woke up the next morning in the hospital. I had taken too much and having never had it before, nearly died from the overdose. I missed seeing Journey up close.

My sister had told my parents what was going on and my dad had rushed over which is why the paramedics and doctors think I made it. We never played at being carnies again after that summer of 79. My dad wanted us to stay home and his enjoyment as a carnie.

I grew up, became a mom and one of my own kids experienced with drugs and was soon addicted. When he came home high one night I told him about how his aunt saved my life the one time I took a hardcore drug. He looked over at his aunt as if to have her verify it. She was in town visiting and staying with us. I think the timing was meant to be.

My son agreed to get help and is doing well now. He has a great job and is getting married soon. However, when I see a carnival or I hear a song on the radio by Journey, my mind goes back to my own journey the summer of 79 and I am grateful that thanks to my sister, I was able to grow up and become a parent.