Drug Addiction Stories & Info

She wasn’t giving up this time, and didn’t want to see another one fall prey to cocaine.

Derrick was the life of the party, always enjoying, loved to dance, and was funny with a drink or two. Girls swooned around his charm, and money flowed when he took any of them out. Of course he could afford it, rolled out a small website that was into selling some of the best known products. He soon had clients wanting it from all over the world. Derrick became a millionaire overnight, and had friends in all places. Most of them just wanting to hang around and benefit from the times he reached into his pockets.

He didn’t have the slightest idea how he got into addiction, and how cocaine became something to relieve him of all the stress and take him to a new level. It happened one night while he was out drinking with a new set of friends, he was totally stressed from work, and had just gone though a rough patch with his longtime girlfriend. One of his so-called friends only induced him to take a sniff, and he sportingly obliged. What took off after that was just a downfall, a terrible one that made him loose most of everything around him.

Suzanne happened to call Derrick a few days later only to discover that he seemed indifferent to what she had to say. Although she called in to get back together, and say she was sorry to have caused him pain. His aloofness in trivial matters over the call got her even more worried. When she opened the door to his once neatly kept apartment, she found him sleeping on the floor, and the house was a total chaos. It didn’t seem like he ate or drank anything, since the kitchen seemed to be spared of the mess.

She called up his company, and his secretary was worried, she said Derrick didn’t show up at work since the past few days, and didn’t answer calls as well. On further checking the place she found the reason for the entire mess. Small sheets of rolled paper left and the table had some white powdery substance on it. She instantly knew what happened. How couldn’t she, she had lost her elder brother to cocaine!

She cleared his home of the mess, and waited patiently for him to wake up. She wasn’t giving up this time, and didn’t want to see another one fall prey to cocaine. Once Derrick woke she began to talk to him, nicely and gently she broached the subject.  She wanted to know what made him get into this mess. After hours of confrontation, with a whole lot of angry outbursts, Derrick picked up the phone to get into a drug addiction rehab.

Addiction is not something that you can fight against, but the addicted has to make up their mind to get out of it. With this half the battle is won!

The thing is, Diane was heavy, hard core.  She injected too, but a lot more than Kelly did.  We didn’t think much of it.  Diane must know what she was doing.  It sure hit her differently than it did Kelly though.  We decided to go out for a walk by the river and then went back to the railroad car, just like any other normal night.  What we didn’t know was that it wasn’t going to be all that normal at all.

We all slept until afternoon the next day.  I guess we had done a little more than we had planned.  I woke up first and nudged Kelly.  After groaning for a minute, she sat up.  She reached over for her morning fix.  I called out to Diane but she didn’t answer.

I said to Kelly, “She’s probably in a coma after all of that stuff she did last night”.

We both laughed and I got up and nudged Diane.  No movement.  Now I was getting nervous. “Diane!” I shouted; again, no response.  I reached down and took her hand.  It felt cold.  I felt for a pulse and there was none.

I scooted back against the wall of the railway car as Kelly continued to make jokes.

“She’s dead,” I said flatly.
“What?  Oh stop playing” Kelly replied.

I simply pointed and Kelly went to check for herself.  Her face went pale and she asked me what we were going to do.  Like I knew.  If we told anyone, we could be blamed. If we left her in our “home”, we could probably never come back.  What little we had of lives were falling apart.  I reached for my morning fix so I could think clearly and decide what to do.

We decided to move her away from the railroad cars and to a place where she could more easily be seen by passersby or traffic.  We didn’t spend that day looking for tricks.  We spent it in a place where we could see Diane, but weren’t likely to be seen ourselves.  We didn’t say much to each other.  After what seemed like hours, someone finally spotted her and within minute’s cops and fire trucks and ambulances surrounded the place.  It took everything I had not to run to get into that ambulance with her but then I would have had to explain everything.

Kelly and I went about our business.  That is, for about 3 months when we realized we could not shake the memory of our friend dying.  We made a pact to get help and get off the drugs.  That was 3 months ago and life is better, but some days are still a struggle.  We are still going through drug addiction rehab but I have her and she has me and together, we will beat this.

We don’t want to end up like Diane…

Living in railroad cars wasn’t my idea of staying at the Ritz, but it was better than taking my chances at the parks or in downtown doorways.  Missions weren’t an option; they forced God on you and as far as I can tell turned more people away from him than towards him.  Anyway, I did okay with the railway cars. I even had a friend with me.  We sort of used the buddy system. Somehow it felt safer having someone along. Every morning we’d use the river water we had in a bucket inside the railroad car to splash our faces and rinse our mouths out.  There wasn’t money for toothpaste and no one we dealt with ever seemed to care anyway.  We’d make our way toward downtown to start hustling up some money.  Usually that meant picking out a half way decent looking guy who propositioned me.

I’d usually get my first John early, but as the day wore on, sometimes it got tougher.  Kelly, my friend, did what she had to do.  We rarely saw each other during the day until around 6 when we’d meet up in front of the bank downtown.  From there we’d start looking to score.  Kelly was into needles but I liked to smoke crack.  We usually knew where we could find some.  If we couldn’t, we’d keep on looking until we did.  If we found some early enough, we’d hit the mission just for dinner.  Usually that was the only time we ate.

Some days were better than others.  When we were really lucky we’d get enough money for a hit that night and one first thing in the morning, which was heaven.  On very rare occasions, we even got enough money to buy something to eat.  In the end, though, we’d go back to our railroad car and enjoy that day’s score.  After that, we’d either go back out into the night looking for more money or we’d just laugh and talk the night away.

We didn’t like for people to know about our sleeping spot, but once in a while we’d meet up with someone we knew and invite them back to our place.  One night in particular, we scored big time and happened to have run into a friend, Diane.  All three of us walked back to our place and enjoyed our daily “take”.