Drug Addiction Stories

When I see girlfriends huddled together in the mall, I think of Judy. When I see grown women having dinner together in a restaurant, I think of Judy. We had been friends for seventeen years. She had a way about her, beautiful and bright, slender and carrying herself well. When I thought of a best friend, I thought of Judy.

One night she called me and asked if she could come stay with me. She lived 400 miles away and had decided to leave her husband. She moved in and that is when another side of her that I had never seen emerged. Somehow, somewhere, Judy got hooked on prescription drugs. She had no ailments that I knew of so I did not understand all the pain medications I saw on her dresser in the guest room. I asked her about it and she said doctors give them out left and right to her. She even told me I should give them a try as they made her feel good. I was shocked. I tried to talk to her about getting rehab but she informed me she was not an addict and could quit anytime she wanted.

Still, for the most part, she seemed okay. I helped her get a job and we went out one night to celebrate. Beautiful Judy usually had no trouble getting guys and that night was no exception. She caught the eye of several guys. A man I had recently begun dating showed up at the club after work and we danced and played pool while Judy flirted with her admirers.

I went to the restroom and when I came back, the man I was seeing (Paul) was visibly upset. He told me he thought he should go and looking at the time, I felt the same way. I asked Judy if she was ready and she said yes. I said goodnight to Paul and Judy and I left for home. On the way she told me Paul had made a pass at her. I was speechless. Still, she was pretty so I was not surprised.

The next day when Paul called and asked me out for the following evening I said no. I told him I did not want to see him and told him what Judy had said. He told me she had actually come on to him after he caught her attempting to put something in my drink!

I confronted Judy and she shrugged and said “Yeah, so what? I just wanted you to loosen up some.” That conversation ended seventeen years of friendship. I found out through a mutual friend that her marriage ended because her husband could not handle her addiction to the pain relievers.

I miss the Judy I used to know. I heard she lost her job and took off back to our hometown where she got busted a couple of times for drugs before going into court ordered rehab. Sometimes, when I see two friends sharing a moment together in the mall or a restaurant, I think of her. I miss my friend, Judy.  I wonder if she ever thinks of me?

Sometimes people on drugs feel like they are all alone. Sometimes it is paranoia. Sometimes it is the truth, whether the drugs did it or the loneliness led to the drugs or whatever. I know because I am one of those people. No family, no close friends. I got deeper and deeper into my heroin and alcohol and could have easily ended up dead if it had not been for someone who totally depended on me. The truth is, I think he saved my life just as much as I saved his. 

Do you change the channel during commercials? I do, too, most of the time. One night, however, the remote control was just out of reach and I was too into my high to reach it. A commercial came on about abandoned animals. I looked into their eyes and saw my own feelings there. Weird, I know, but I could see their pain and feel it. Someone else could see it, too, and snuggled more into me. My dog, Henry.

I looked at him and saw the same look I was seeing in the animals on television. It was like he was saying, “Yeah, that’s me when you off yourself by overdose some day. How can you be sympathetic to their plight when you are doing the same thing to me by slowly killing yourself?”

I know some of you might be reading this and if you have never done drugs you are thinking that’s the paranoia coming out. Some of you may not like animals and will not understand the connection. But I bet there are still others out there who do know, who do get what I am trying to say.

That night, the commercial kept coming back and haunting me. I kept glancing at Henry asleep on his side of the double bed. Maybe I did not have a family, my parents dying just after my 19^th birthday in a car accident and no siblings, aunts or cousins to speak of. Maybe I had never married since turning to heroin and alcohol shortly afterwards. But I was 23 and I did have someone depending on me who showed me every day that he loved me, my dog, Henry.

I made arrangements the next day to get clean. I got Henry situated with a neighbor I trusted who was delighted I was getting help. She had sort of adopted me and took care of my parents’ home and Henry while I was in rehab. Today, I am working, involved with a couple of community projects, pursuing my interest in art, dating a little and every day, I come home to someone very important: Henry.

Stress used to be my excuse for everything.  I had a wife, a family, a job, a house payment, bills, the stress just kept adding up.  I seldom had time for myself, everyone wanted a piece of me.  When a friend slipped me some cocaine one night and told me it would help me relax, I thought “why not?”  We were on a business trip, it did not seem to have hurt him any so again, why not?

I did not realize that I was saying yes that night to just one more demand on my time.  At first, I thought it was just letting me know that I needed a break from all the stress and responsibility.  It took quite a while before I realized that it was actually the opposite, the cocaine was demanding more and more of my time, my mind, my body and my money.

My wife knew something was up but even in her wildest dreams she never suspected cocaine until the day she cleaned out my blazer pocket to get it ready for the dry cleaners.  When she pulled out the white powder, she was honestly shocked.  She came in to the bedroom where I was still sleeping that Saturday morning and admitted that she thought I was having an affair, but she was stunned to find out about the cocaine use.  She told me she would help me with anything and she would accept anything: an illness, me losing my job and working for minimum wage, but she would not tolerate drugs because of our children.

She gave me an ultimatum that Saturday.  On Monday she moved out.  Within a week, my friend who had gotten me started on cocaine had lost his job.  That was an eye opener for me.  I called my wife who was staying at her sister’s house and told her what had happened.  I told her I realized I needed help or I would be next.  My employer was a reputable Fortune 500 company but if I did not get help on my own, they might show me the door as well.

That was four years ago.  When I went into rehab, my wife came home.  We underwent marriage and family counseling as well as sessions to deal with my cocaine addiction.  Those marriage counseling sessions opened up our lines to communication in ways we had never experienced.

Turning to cocaine was wrong.  I do believe my marriage is stronger now, but it would have been nice to have just gone the marriage counseling route and sidestep the cocaine addiction altogether.  Still, I am just grateful we got a second chance at all.