Drug Addiction Stories

Whenever I see a young woman acting a little off, I think back to Marci. I was in college and she was in the dorm across from me. Every time I went out to grab a smoke, she was there. She was watching me from her window. 

Marci was beautiful. I admit, I was into her. However, Marci had a bipolar disorder and when she drank at parties, it was even worse. As beautiful as she was, I could not see her for very long. After just a few weeks, it was getting well, sort of creepy.

I met her at a party one Friday night. We ended up hanging out all weekend together. She was beautiful and honestly, I could have found myself falling in love with her if given the chance. But her mood swings became apparent in just a couple of weeks. Her watching me seemed almost, well, as my mom said, like a stalking situation.

One night, Marci called me. I started not to answer but something made me. Her voice was slurred and I thought she was drunk. She was but there was something more going on. I could sense it. Marci mumbled something about her brother dying. She said she had no family left now and she wanted to die, too. She had taken all of her bipolar medication, a half bottle of sleep sedative and was on her fourth drink. She wanted to die.

I raced over but her dorm was locked. I called 911 while my roommate called Campus security. The paramedics got there and tried to revive her but they were too late. Her neighbor in the dorm said Marci had been notified earlier in the afternoon that her brother had died in a car accident. Marci did not have a roommate because she was hard to live with according to the girls in her dorm.

I think about Marci from time to time. She was so beautiful and had everything to live for. She was in college and wanted to be a journalist. She was always writing in a spiral. She could have gone places.

I was studying psychology and became more and more interested in bipolar disorder after Marci’s death. I did some research and saw that people with bipolar disorder who have a drug or alcohol problem have more episodes than those who don’t. Today I am a mental health counselor. When I see a patient with bipolar disorder, my mind goes back to Marci. When I see one with a drug or alcohol problem, I make sure they are part of a dual diagnosis program. Maybe, just maybe, if someone had done that for Marci, she would still be alive.  I feel like every time I help a patient, I’m doing it for Marci, too.

Hi,

This post is for anybody who is not caring about his or her family. I am now on the last part of a life changing program called Narconon and this program made me realize how important a family is in one’s life and in their level of happiness. I am now 20 years old, and for about 10 years I neglected my family by doing what I wanted and by not caring about what they said, even if their words were for my best interest. I found myself unhappy and unwanted. I started drinking and using cocaine. When my addiction grew bigger, so did my problems with my family. I would scream at my mom and fight with my dad every time they would get on my nerves trying to reinforce a positive mentality in my sick brain. They were only trying to help me live an honest and happy life, but I only saw that they were trying to hold me back and make me miserable. Now I realized all my errors and I am happy and drug-free thanks to them and their huge support and love they always had for me.  Even when my family was really mad and frustrated with me, they always had me in their hearts and I’m sure that your family has you in theirs to. Thank you for your time and I hope that I would have been of some positive help to you so as not to go down the path of sorrow and unhappiness that I did.

About a year ago I lost the lady I realized, too late, that I loved.  I was an alcoholic who was also addicted to painkillers.  Sally stayed with me through some rough times but I got mean and took it out on her verbally.  One day, when I came home from work, she was gone.

I called her but she would not answer her phone.  I went to see her but her mother said she had moved to another town.  Finally, she answered one night.  She told me that she had loved me, but that she could not spend her life being put down and belittled, for having a stroke while I was the one killing myself by mixing alcohol and drugs.  She asked me not to call her cell phone again.

I ended up getting help when my brother heard what had happened.  I got clean, got sober and luckily, my job was still there when I got out of rehab.  One day I went downtown to the flea market and I thought I heard a beautiful and familiar voice.  I looked over and sure enough, it was Sally.  She was with another man.

As I walked up to them, she had a worried look in her eyes.  Still, she introduced us and I could tell by the look in his eyes that he knew who I was.  He was a gentleman, though, and did not say anything rude.  I asked Sally how she was doing and she said fine.  She asked how I was and I told her I was doing good and had been clean for about six months.  A look of real happiness washed over her face at that.  She hugged me and said she was glad.

Still, she was walking away with that guy and I was jealous.  I asked how her health had been with her stroke and all.  It was partly out of meanness.  That was when I got the biggest lesson of my life.  The guy she was with took her hand as she said she was doing good and had not had any problems.  Then her boyfriend said “Even if she did, I would be here for her; she’s been the best thing to ever happen to me.”

I realized then that I had hurt Sally with my attitude while on drugs and alcohol but that she had helped me as much as she could till she could not take the abuse any more.  I was clean and sober now, but I had still lost out on love where she was concerned. A girl who had a stroke due to stress had ended up richer and healthier and able to build a life full of energy and love and adventure.  As she walked off with him, I whispered, “Good for you, Sally” and let her go peacefully and with my best wishes.