Drug Addiction Stories

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.

I grew up being in the shadow of others. I was Donny’s sister, David’s daughter, Margaret’s daughter, Lisa’s friend. I was never just Tory. I was second to everyone else. I came up with a great idea for our history paper when Lisa and I were in junior high. Even as Lisa stood there and told our teacher the idea was mine, she applauded Lisa for “allowing” me to share the credit. 

In high school, Lisa was out sick for a week with the flu and I was invited by another girl, Stacy, to go to a party. ME. Not Lisa, not Donny, me. So I went. It was there that I became acquainted with a new world. It was there I met crystal meth.

When Lisa came back to school, she noticed the change in me immediately. I was dressing “goth” she said. I told her she was just jealous. She warned me to keep away from my new friends. I told her she was being spiteful because they wanted to be friends with ME.

As the days went by, I got more involved with crystal meth and my new friends. One Tuesday afternoon, I got home about an hour late from school to find my family, Lisa and a lady there. They told me they cared about me. Not because I was just a sister, just a daughter, just a friend, but because I was Tory. They said they missed me. They called it an intervention.

The lady told me she was a counselor and that it was not too late to get off crystal meth. She said I had a wonderful family and best friend who did not wait until I was hurt or in jail to get help. It had only been about six weeks. They were not going to take chances with me. As soon as they confirmed I was involved with drugs, they sought help.

Lisa was one of the speakers at our high school graduation two years later. She had been on the honor roll all four years. She told the audience she would not have maintained her high grades if not for the creative and inspirational ideas of one person, her best friend, Tory. She looked over at me and everyone stood up giving both of us a standing ovation. My parents were beaming from ear to ear even though I had not won any awards.

I am Donny’s sister, David’s daughter, Margaret’s daughter and Lisa’s best friends. My name is Tory and I am the luckiest girl on earth.

I watched the mailman walk away from my mailbox. I did not really want to go out there and get the mail. No, I wasn’t hiding from mounting bills or bugged about wasting my time wading through junk mail. It was a letter from my boyfriend. There was always a letter from my boyfriend in the mail, telling me how much he loved me and how much he needed me. He was not writing from a combat zone overseas. He was not writing from college. He was writing from the penitentiary. He was serving a sentence for armed robbery. He had been in for eight months and had a little over nine years to go. 

We had gone together since high school and gotten hooked on crystal meth the summer following our senior year. We had just thought to try it one weekend with friends but before we knew it, we were both hooked. Neither of us could keep a job for very long because when we got a fix we would miss work. Desperate for cash to feed our addiction, my boyfriend pulled an armed robbery and got caught.

He was inside and clean for the first time in three years. I was still trying to get a fix where and when I could. He was begging me in his letters to get clean so that when he was paroled, we could be together and start a new life.

Thanks to my own foul up by drinking and driving one night, I was clean and had been for about a month. However, I was also finding out through my counseling sessions that deep down, I did want to change and I wanted to have a real life.

The days went by, I got a job and I attended support meetings for my crystal meth addiction. I also attended alcoholism meetings as mandated by the court. I got a job and as the next month went by, I realized I had held the job past getting my first paycheck. I usually got high then and never returned to work.

I had shared with my boyfriend getting clean but as even more time went by, I found myself wanting to experience other things in life such as well, a normal relationship. I began dreading his letters more and more as I yearned to be out living life instead of letting it pass me by. Still, I opened his letters, read them and answered them. Then one day came a different letter. He told me it would be his last letter. He said he wanted me to get out and have a life not tied to him. He was giving me what I had been wanting. That was when I knew I still loved him. I told him I would wait.

Eventually he was paroled. He came home and began rebuilding his life. He got a job through a friend of his brother’s and we are living in a small apartment. We both go to meetings, sometimes together, sometimes separately. We take it one day at a time but we are together and we are clean.