Drug Addiction Stories

As I sat in the group session, I felt for the first time like I was not alone. I saw others, men and women, who had been where I was. Sure, we have come a long way here in America and women are allowed to go to war for the country they love, but still, it is hard and with several of my friends having died over there, plus being the only girl in my group of friends who had gone the military route, I felt alone as Memorial Day approached.

That may be why it was so easy to just go along with my friends a year ago when they talked me into going to the party and why I accepted the powder that cute guy gave me. The chance to forget for a few hours what perhaps no one in the room had been through? I was all for that!

But that night started a spiral of addiction to cocaine. My family soon noticed the difference but were unsure if it was related to my service or what. I didn’t have the heart to tell them it was a little of both. I couldn’t sleep without seeing my friends’ faces, the ones that died in Iraq. I couldn’t sleep without being back over there. Now, the craving for forgetfulness was marred by the craving for cocaine.

Eventually, my family figured it out and my parents approached me. My dad had never been in the military because of his back and both my parents were only children. With three daughters, I was the oldest and the one who went into the Army and then to war. Still, my heroes are most assuredly my parents as both had a discussion with me one night with my sisters, some friends, an uncle of my mom’s who had served in the military and an intervention counselor.

This Memorial Day is one I can now look upon with strength because I know that my survivor’s guilt is a common feeling. I know that having others to talk to who have been there, even if it means a 3 hour drive for my family, is worth it in order, as they say, to “get the old me back”.

It still kind of makes me nervous when someone who knows I was in the Army says thank you to me. I still think the real heroes died over there. But I am learning to deal with the nightmares without turning to cocaine. I am learning to pause and take a breath without worrying that I don’t have time to think because a bomb could go off. I am learning to see children here and realize that they are innocent and lucky just as I am lucky to live in this country. And every now and then, when I am able to get to a meeting and stop the urge for cocaine, I can almost hear my combat buddies who died whispering “Good Soldier” to me as I get through another day.

I looked up as I was helping at the Food Bank and saw him. His face lit up in a big smile and he came over and hugged me, saying “Hi, Sis.” I was so happy to see him. Once a month, just like clockwork, my brother David was there with his friends seeking some groceries. Once a month was all I saw him. 

David is a drug addict. He has been on meth and cocaine off and on for nearly 30 years and while he has been in rehab several times, he seems to backslide as soon as he gets out. The drugs have destroyed his ability to understand a lot of things and he gets memories mixed up in a big way. He insists that so and so happened at such and such time and it is easier to just nod in agreement than to argue with him.

Some of the family cringe when they see him coming or when the county jail number shows up on caller I.D.. but when I see him at the Food Bank, I am reminded of the big brother I had way back when. He goes around excitedly telling everyone I am his baby sister. Sometimes he does not have his identification on him but they know him as he is a regular. They just look over at me, asking if I vouch for him being who he claims to be and I say yes, he is my big brother and I give him a big hug.

My brother was not always a drug addict. Being the oldest, he played sports and the prettiest girl in school crushed on him. But shortly after they graduated, before they got married, she was killed in an accident along with her sister and parents, and David took to using drugs. He changed almost overnight.

The family tried in many ways to get him to get help over the years. Our younger brother is always bailing him out of jail when he is found walking around in the middle of night, unsure of where he is. An officer told us he was looking for Tara. I cried. Tara had been his high school sweetheart, the one who died.

Still, for just a moment when our eyes meet across the room, I see the big brother I love inside of the man who threw everything away for drugs. Sometimes I pray that Tara is up there somewhere and sees David and how much he needs help. For a long time I didn’t believe that…until last week.

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.