Drug Addiction Stories & Info

I breathed in the smell of the salt water. I looked out over the beautiful sunrise and I counted my blessings. A year ago I could not have imagined being here. A year ago I was too addicted to crystal meth and could not see past my own desire for it. It didn’t matter that my daddy was pretty secure in his holdings in a major company and that I had all my bills and then some taken care of. I only knew I was getting my fix and that was all that mattered. Till I met Crissy.

Crissy was a single mom of three kids. She waited on me and my friends at the diner we went to when we were slumming. That meant we were waiting on the dealer. Crissy was a little older than us but she was friendly. I thought she was this sweet little waitress who just had a hard life. I didn’t yet know about the warrior in her.

One day the dealer was running late and we were getting fidgety. He wanted us to meet him at the regular spot (finally) but I was pissed off about having to wait. I told him if he wanted his money he would come to us. He grumbled and I hung up but not before telling him I knew another place to score. He quickly called back and said he would meet us in ten minutes at the diner we were at.

He came in and I saw a complete 180 in Crissy. She walked up to him and in a loud tone let him know he was not wanted there. He tried to act all big and bad but as Crissy stepped towards him, he jumped back. She was barely 5’5 and he was nearly 6 feet but you could see who the scaredy cat was and it wasn’t her.

He looked at us, shrugged and left. Crissy came over and asked “Were you girls seriously waiting for Big Steel?” Then she went over, locked the diner (we were the only customers at that time) and came back and sat down with the three of us. She told her story to us.

Crissy owned the diner, she wasn’t just the waitress. Big Steel was her cousin. He and her husband were friends throughout school. One of Big Steel’s drug deals went bad and her husband had gotten in the way of Big Steel and a bullet about four years earlier. He wasn’t into drugs, he was just driving home from work but he saw Big Steel in trouble and pulled over to help.

Crissy bought the little diner with part of the life insurance policy her husband had insisted on setting up. The rest was in savings for her children. It wasn’t much but it was a start. She looked at me. “You need help.” I hung my head and nodded. Something about Crissy and her courage got to us that night. We let her call our parents. We were sophomores at college out having fun on summer break but we still didn’t know how to take care of ourselves. Our parents came to get us and we all went into a confidential rehab treatment program.

I watched the sun rise as I sent another quiet thank you across the miles to Crissy. I knew my dad had set up an investment for Crissy as a thank you as well. I heard Big Steel finally ended up with one of those bullets. Guess he didn’t have the friends he used to. Crissy is doing well and, thanks to her, so are my two friends and myself. I don’t take my daddy’s money for granted anymore. More importantly, I don’t take life for granted, either.

I breathed in the smell of the salt water. I looked out over the beautiful sunrise and I counted my blessings. A year ago I could not have imagined being here. A year ago I was too addicted to crystal meth and could not see past my own desire for it. It didn’t matter that my daddy was pretty secure in his holdings in a major company and that I had all my bills and then some taken care of. I only knew I was getting my fix and that was all that mattered. Till I met Crissy.

Crissy was a single mom of three kids. She waited on me and my friends at the diner we went to when we were slumming. That meant we were waiting on the dealer. Crissy was a little older than us but she was friendly. I thought she was this sweet little waitress who just had a hard life. I didn’t yet know about the warrior in her.

One day the dealer was running late and we were getting fidgety. He wanted us to meet him at the regular spot (finally) but I was pissed off about having to wait. I told him if he wanted his money he would come to us. He grumbled and I hung up but not before telling him I knew another place to score. He quickly called back and said he would meet us in ten minutes at the diner we were at.

He came in and I saw a complete 180 in Crissy. She walked up to him and in a loud tone let him know he was not wanted there. He tried to act all big and bad but as Crissy stepped towards him, he jumped back. She was barely 5’5 and he was nearly 6 feet but you could see who the scaredy cat was and it wasn’t her.

He looked at us, shrugged and left. Crissy came over and asked “Were you girls seriously waiting for Big Steel?” Then she went over, locked the diner (we were the only customers at that time) and came back and sat down with the three of us. She told her story to us.

Crissy owned the diner, she wasn’t just the waitress. Big Steel was her cousin. He and her husband were friends throughout school. One of Big Steel’s drug deals went bad and her husband had gotten in the way of Big Steel and a bullet about four years earlier. He wasn’t into drugs, he was just driving home from work but he saw Big Steel in trouble and pulled over to help.

Crissy bought the little diner with part of the life insurance policy her husband had insisted on setting up. The rest was in savings for her children. It wasn’t much but it was a start. She looked at me. “You need help.” I hung my head and nodded. Something about Crissy and her courage got to us that night. We let her call our parents. We were sophomores at college out having fun on summer break but we still didn’t know how to take care of ourselves. Our parents came to get us and we all went into a confidential rehab treatment program.

I watched the sun rise as I sent another quiet thank you across the miles to Crissy. I knew my dad had set up an investment for Crissy as a thank you as well. I heard Big Steel finally ended up with one of those bullets. Guess he didn’t have the friends he used to. Crissy is doing well and, thanks to her, so are my two friends and myself. I don’t take my daddy’s money for granted anymore. More importantly, I don’t take life for granted, either.