Drug Addiction Stories & Info

Drugs and alcohol nearly ruined my wonderful life. I can’t say that I was pushed into that lifestyle by negative influences in my family, that wouldn’t be true. I made my own choices and I had to deal with them. I have been in rehabilitation for almost 5 months, but it is coming to an end very soon. It was a long road getting here. Over a decade of drinking, 2 years of cocaine, and three months of crack brought me here. I was on top of the world, and in a profession that made me a community leader, but I threw it all away. Now I have to fight to get my job back, but I have no one to blame but myself. Please don’t make the same mistakes I have.

JF

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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.

It’s a little after 2 in the morning. I can’t sleep. Monday is going to be rough and I just want to have a drink so bad. I can’t chance it, though. I have to keep my head clear when all I want is to just get drunk and forget what life has given me because of two very special people, my daughter and my son. One is here, asleep in the other room, the other was murdered a year ago. 

My husband and I had some problems. We split up. I just knew we would get back together but some girl a few years younger than us caught his eye. Before I knew it, they were living together while I was pregnant with our baby girl.

Last year, he picked up our three year old son and took him over there to spend a few days. I was prepared to go into labor any day. It was the last time I saw either of them. My husband’s girlfriend? She was on crack and also seeing another guy. The two of them were messed up and caught by my husband. He began yelling at them. Told them both to get out according to the neighbors who could hear it. One of them called 911 but it was too late.

Before the police arrived, the guy pulled a gun on my husband and then shot our baby for screaming. Then he shot the girlfriend (she survived) before turning the gun on himself.

I actually went into labor at the service for my son and husband. Now I have the most beautiful little girl in the world and she keeps me sane. I feel sad for her, though. She will never know her wonderful big brother or her special father. She will never have the protective arm of either one.

Still, I do what I can to give her a good life. I work hard and I have her in a wonderful day care center that encourages parents to pop in. I spend time with her in Mommy and Me on Saturdays and we are members of a really good church.

There are times like tonight, though, when I just want a drink, when I just want to forget what happened and pretend my little boy is in the other room sound asleep in his bed. There are times when I want to pretend my husband is at work and will be home for supper. There are times when I want to wake up and find out this past year was just a horrible nightmare.

I hear my little girl stirring. I guess I woke her up with my typing and moving around in here. I only hope and pray she never goes through what I did as a mother. One of these days, when she is old enough to understand, I will tell her how she saved my own sanity and how she is my personal hero.