Drug Addiction Stories

I sat there with the other inmates and watched her walk out the door. People come and go when you are in the tank. I had been here myself this time about seven or eight weeks. I had heard all of the stories, nothing was ever anyone’s fault. I certainly played the blame game myself, having been an LVN and losing my license and control of my life to my addiction to heroin. 

She was different, though. She was actually a few years older than me. She did not blame society, other people or anyone but herself for what she had done. Her name was Nora and she also held her head high, saying she would do the same thing again. When her story got out around the tank, some people scoffed. Most of us who had been in repeatedly knew the score. She was definitely a different breed.

I stole drugs from the clinic where I worked. She wrote several hot checks. I stole prescription sheets from the doctor I worked for and wrote bogus ’scripts for non-existent patients, then traded them off for heroin. She fed her kids with the checks she wrote at grocery stores. She said it was wrong, but when you have a sick kid, you can not work because of his medical care schedule and no one is around to help, you do what you have to when it comes to your kids.  It was her choice.  She made no excuses. 

I stole to feed my addiction. She stole to feed her kids. I blamed everything else. She blamed herself. I looked around at those of us in the tank who had blamed exes, parents, friends, bosses. She quietly went about her business the few days she was there reading. One of the long term women began picking on her. She ignored it. When a young girl came in terrified and was picked on, however, the mama bear in her came out and she stood up to the cell block bully bitch and would not back down. The bully went to the guard to complain and was shocked when the rest of the women stood up for Nora. They were sick of the bully behavior themselves.

When Nora left, those of us left behind had the usual feelings of jealousy, wishful thinking and resentment mixed with being happy for her. I watched her leave, took a breath and went over to the phone and called my own mother collect. “Mom, it’s me. When I get out next week, will you drive me over to the rehab center? It is my fault I am in here and on drugs. I want to get cleaned up for good this time.”

I had forgotten this feeling. One of freedom and euphoria without drugs. A feeling of remembering every part of the day and evening without blackouts associated with it. My experience with drugs is parallel to the ups and downs of Mother Nature.

I had been a pretty normal teenager. Stayed out of trouble, decent grades in high school and enjoying extra curricular activities such as sports and drama club. Then I got into the college of my dreams but at the same time, my dad died. Suddenly I was facing financial problems because my mom was barely getting by with two more kids left at home. There was no life insurance, my dad worked at a factory.

I worked two jobs and went to school. Then one night I took off and went to a party with a friend from Theater class. That was the night I tried heroin for the first time and the night I my life changed for the second time.

Life during that time was like Mother Nature: storm warnings, dark clouds, volcano eruptions. I was missing class and missing work but barely made it through my freshman year with Cs and Ds. Over the summer, my mother caught the changes and went Hurricane Mom on me. She told me that she was not going to let me throw my life away and that I owed it to myself and to the memory of my dad to get help. She got me into drug rehab.

The treatment program was a God send. The counseling not only helped me work out the tools I needed to get clean but it also helped me with the grief I still felt over my dad dying. I spent most of the summer in the program and after talking to my mom, decided to finish college locally so I could live at home and have my family’s support.

I am a junior now. My sophomore year was a lot easier. Sure, it would have been nice to stay at the college that had been my first choice but in the end, I know that being with Mom and my brother and sister is best for now. My mom and I have long talks and she is my best friend.

These days I feel like someone who has been released. I still miss my dad but I know that he is up there somewhere watching over me. My dad loved the ocean and when I walk along the coastline not too far from our home, I know he is out there watching over me, my mom and my brother and sister. I feel the calm presence of the sea and I remember the times my dad used to run along the shoreline and we would along behind him. I love being drug free again and feeling those old feelings and memories.

I was always a rebel child ever since I could remember, I think being rebellious came naturally to me. Defying my parents and going against what they wanted me to do seemed to be my sole mission. I always thought the generation gap was much wider, and with every passing phase it only got worse.

As I turned 16 my life turned a new leaf, I started skipping school. I’d even sneak out the of house in the dead of night and sleep among the homeless. I nurtured this deep feeling that no one ever understood or loved me. Skipping school and leaving home, gave me a complete sense of freedom.

The look I sported was trashy, unkempt hair, ill fitting and dirty clothes, the punk style with the ‘I don’t care attitude’ was my favorite. With loud colors that scream ‘look at me’ and garish makeup I felt really safe hiding beneath all of it.

Since I would hang around the streets at odd hours, it really wasn’t difficult for me to get drugs; I would often be asked by small time peddlers if I needed any. I used to refuse, but ended up buying some with my pocket money and the money I had gathered from working at the deli. One possible reason could be that because of my angst, I had no friends and was looking for some.  There were some I knew from school who were already into it, and bought from the same peddlers.

I was doing chemicals like LSD, and I quite liked it, it took me to another world that I could associate with easily. I slowly became more adventurous and hooked on to anything I could afford and lay my hands on. I wanted to graduate even further, and was looking for something that would satisfy me, that’s when I noticed heroine. In the mean time, I was kicked out of my home, since I stole some money from my parents, used their credit cards to take care of my needs. Lost about 10 pounds, and was doing the rounds of shelters where I could spend my nights in. I soon discovered heroine and the feeling was indescribable. I now needed to shoot drugs into my blood stream, and was totally hooked on heroine for a year.

My parents had to look for me, and found me out on the streets one day; I think what they seen came to them as a shock. I was taken home and cleaned up, the confrontation was long. I didn’t agree instantly. It took me several months to pick up the phone and call the drug addiction rehab. Since then I have been clean.