Drug Addiction Stories

One day I went to the corner store.  When I came out, a young man approached me for some money because he was hungry.  I noticed some marks on his arm and face.   I talked to the young man for a few minutes, and then I went back into the store to get him something to eat and a soft drink.  We talked for a while out in the parking lot and he told me his story.  He said he was homeless because his parents had found out he was using drugs.

I knew I could not give him money because as a drug addict, he would just spend it on drugs so I listened to him.  He told me he was down about as low as he could get and did not know what to do.  I told him there was help for him.  He was not the first young person to fight an addiction and he would not be the last.

How can I help a drug addict quit?  I can get him into a rehab clinic, let him get checked in and he can start therapy.  He seemed relieved and grateful as I called information and then the clinic.  They asked to talk to him and after a few minutes, to me.  We made arrangements for him to go to the rehab clinic right away.

I then talked to the young man and together we called his parents.  I told them who I was and that their son wanted to get help.  They were relieved as they had been trying to call him, but he had apparently traded his cell phone for drugs.

I will always believe I was meant to be at that store at that moment in time.  To this day I occasionally hear from that young man and his parents.  He is back on the right track and I am glad we ran into each other that fateful day a year ago.  He tells me he believes I was a gift to a drug addict.  I got a gift to, by helping him that day.

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”.