Drug Addiction Stories & Info

I hated school. I felt like I never fit in. I just wanted to hide. I went to a school in a small town about ten miles outside of the city but did not hang out with anyone. I made a few friends in the city at the skating rink and that was where I liked being the most. One Friday evening after a harder week than usual at school with the kids putting me down, I went around the side of the skating rink to the alley where everyone smoked cigarettes. It was there that I got high for the first time.

Being sixteen, I was finally able to go to work in the city and began spending every penny I had on getting high and skating. I was able to forget for a little while just how much I hated school and my fellow students. Then one day my mom found out and took my car away and made me stop working and grounded me from going into the city to the skating rink.

I was devastated. I wanted to skate, I wanted to get high, I wanted to forget. It was then that the suicidal thoughts started coming into my head. As the other girls made fun of me behind my back, as the boys laughed at me as I walked by, I knew I could not take much more.

One Friday morning, I woke up, determined that this would be my last day. I had no friends at school, I had lost my privileges of going into the city and skating and to me there was simply no reason to keep living. Then the most amazing thing happened.

One of the girls came up to me after the others were doing their usual snickering and insulting. She smiled at me, looked me in the eye and said “Hi, Stephanie, have a great day” and gave me a high-five and walked away. At lunch she invited me to sit with her and her friends. After a bit of awkwardness, the other girls warmed up and when they found out I loved skating, they invited me to go to a skating rink that was in a different neighborhood than the one I went to downtown in the city. I began skating with them on the weekends and stayed away from pot after that, thanks largely in part to Lisa’s (that was her name) encouragement that I could do without it.

Lisa never realized that she literally saved my life that day twenty years ago. I was too scared to tell her back then, afraid she might think I was a freak after all. It wasn’t until a few months ago when I ran into her at church that I finally confessed what she really did for me.

“Mom, we need to find a dealer and get you some pot.” Those were the words spoken by my then 23 year old son as he, his brother and his sister heard the story of Mom’s one and only smoking pot experience. Everyone laughed and I rolled my eyes.  

Why were those words being directed at me? Because I had been lax in my house cleaning duties lately and they were listening to my brother tell a story from my teenage years.

I was seventeen at the time. I was over at my friend’s house at a sleepover. She brought out some marijuana and insisted I give it a try instead of being so strait-laced. Not wanting to be left out of things, I agreed. Everyone was chilling and relaxed and yet, I was going stir crazy. I got up, cleaned her mother’s living room, kitchen and bathroom and then finally fell out in exhaustion. The next day everyone laughed at me because marijuana usually relaxes people instead of acting as a form of speed as it seemed to do me.

I really did not like it and never tried it again. A few months later a friend of ours was hurt pretty bad in an accident after everyone had gotten high out at the lake. Okay, so maybe I just was not into pot but I was into helping my friends because I cared about them. When Terry got hurt, I made up my mind I wanted to be a counselor and went to school with that goal in mind.

I got married and had three great kids. I followed my counseling dream and have been in it for nearly 20 years now. Following my divorce, I took a second job and my house cleaning duties took their place last in my list of priorities.

Ever once in a while, my kids still tease me about needing to smoke pot when the house is not up to par. They respect what I do, though, and it is all in good-natured fun. When they tell their friends about it, they say things like “I wonder if my mom would buy that excuse if I got caught getting high.” Having kids in college and high school at the same time made for many a joke about Mom’s pot experience through the years.

But when I think about the fact that me and my kids have an open communication and that they are off in college following their own dreams now, I have no regrets about being teased. Just don’t tell them I said so, okay?