Alone in the World.

Posted in Cocaine Addiction Stories on April 9th, 2012 by Janet

I was fifteen when I finally got to live with my Dad – I saw him on and off over the years since him and Mom split up, that was before I remember. I was sent to grandma’s, that is Dad’s mom’s house.

We got on alright but all I ever wanted was to leave grandma’s – go and live with my father.

Grandma’s was clean and tidy, always had crisp clean sheets on the bed, fresh tablecloth on the table – the house smelled faintly of lavender – and the yeast in homemade bread. It was fine, I loved grandma but my parents held allure – what did they get up to in their lives – that was not a life for a child, so my grandma said.

Grandpa was more forthright – he was a retired cop – he told me that he’d kept my Dad in line – often used the strap. Dad had suddenly gone off the rails, left home. He said he hadn’t spoken to Dad at all since he’d married my mother. That had been a big mistake – which was why they’d had to do the right thing, take me into their home.

Very occasionally I would get a visit from my mother – that is if she didn’t completely forget to come. You get used to it but at first – that first time when she didn’t turn up as promised – it ripped a hole in my heart. I had a new dress, had styled my hair – I was all of six years old – and the day wore on. I didn’t want my tea, took off my clothes, went to bed and sobbed myself to sleep.

So, I finally got to live with Dad. I don’t know that he didn’t set it up that I would go looking for him in his room, only to find him snorting cocaine. I’d never used drugs before, he didn’t offer it then, but when I went back to boarding school – I took to mixing with the girl’s who did drugs – alcohol, marijuana.

Now that I was more grown up my mother made arrangements for me to stay with her in the school vacations. We both drank far too much alcohol, and she encouraged it. It was like we were two naughty girls together when we got into drinking – a couple of drinks and Mom would find a party, do the clubs and end the night with company. I felt lonely back in my room, that would be swirling around from the alcohol.

Quite a few times I lost track of Mom at the parties – someone would take me home – I would say it’s not Mom’s fault she likes to party – but one guy said “Baby, you’d better face it, your mother’s a nympho – an alcoholic.

So I spent a few years between Mom and Dad, neglecting my schoolwork and looking foward to getting high – Dad gave me an allowance that was part paid in cocaine, with alcohol from my Mom.

Then Dad got a new girlfriend that staked a claim, moved in. I felt jealous, angry, went to live with some friends from school that had got themselves into a house. I was determined to live the party life, til one day I got really sick, and the doctor said it was exhaustion, malnutrition – I had to give up the drugs.

Of course, I tried and failed, I couldn’t go a day without. Looking for distraction I tried piercing – put in a nipple ring, put hooks through my lip – one I put in my navel got infected and caused a lot of trouble. Next thing I got tatts, got them done by a friend – in exchange for sex. Having tatts was good – it made me feel like someone strong who was in control of their life – which isn’t how I really felt.

Some days I just want to be a kid – want a hug from grandma – can’t go back to grandma now, not with all these tatts – I feel I’ve lost my way somehow – not a child, not grown up.

I want to get a job, get my life on track, meet a really strong man who will look after me.

All I meet up with is dealers and junkies – needy, greedy people, who would steal from you if they could.

So, look at me now, 21 – went to the best school – should have the world at my feet. But what am I – nothing!

Morbid, depressed – deep down ashamed – so addicted to cocaine. I need to turn a trick or two – to get money – I use cocaine every day.

I’ve noticed I’ve lost customers – reckon they’re out of town. Some of the one’s I go with now – well, they are kind of seedy – I don’t like to knock them back – they come in on recommendation.

I’m having to do a lot more work since I decided to drop my fee – could have been a mistake. These guys seem to think because I’m cheap, they can do anything they want – and I don’t want to argue too much – I just want the money.

So, is that right what you say, you’ll offer an apartment and protection – get me out of this rough trade – something more specialized?

Yes, I will – I’ll come in with you. It sounds just what I need – someone strong to look after me – I’m so alone in the world.

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First Steps

Posted in Cocaine Addiction Stories on April 2nd, 2012 by Janet

Yes, Martin who’s done rather well for himself in that foreign car dealership, who was in our year at school, suggested I come in, discuss my problems at work, with you. Said you are the top man in the field – this business of human relationships – I do think that a man in my position needs to be informed about what to do, how people should be handled – to avoid these occasional flare ups that we seem to be having at work.

Was only last week the CEO called me in – said we have a problem with staff morale – two resignations within a week, and one threatening harassment.

I said that I perfectly understood the issues facing staff – these days it seems they don’t want to work – just take the wage, go home. That harassment case – pure and simple laziness – not to mention insolence. Told me that he’d done enough, to do the rest myself, I told him to stay on at work until he’d got that report sorted out so that I could present it at the meeting next morning . He said it was his night for football training – he wouldn’t miss it – I said his job was on the line – if he didn’t get that report done there and then.

I’ve done my best to explain to staff exactly the work they have to do – research facts, set out all the reference material, I’ve gone to endless trouble – I can’t be expected to keep on top of the game unless I am kept fully informed.

That young upstart Miles,  just before he resigned, said that he might as well tell me how everyone felt, as he was leaving anyway, didn’t need a reference from me – picking their brains he said, getting the credit – I ask you.

You ask a few questions here and there, to make sure they’ve got a handle on what they are doing – no respect for authority, for my position. You do realize that I am now department head – it makes me so very angry. None of them want to work.

So how do I deal with my anger, the same way as always I guess – go out back and do a line – I’ve always got coke on hand.

Addiction, not at all – I call coke my lifeline. It could be so easy to get brought down by the pettiness of people – coke keeps me focused, directed.

Tell me old man, do you use it, if not, I do suggest that you try it, give it a go – gets the creative juices flowing, gets the old brain ticking over.

It’s great at parties too – adds that extra something to any encounter – I’ve had to fight them off in droves, since the wife left home. Now there was a situation where maybe you could have helped me out, suggested how I could have talked my wife out of being so foolish as to leave our marriage.

Such a trivial thing. She let off steam one night – was all upset and complaining – I could understand that she thought the kids were being difficult, but why turn on me, and say that it was all my fault.

You are never here, you should be home more – the next time she paused for breath, I got in quick. You’re boring me I said, for Pete’s sake shut your mouth. I think that the kids are doing fine – doing well at school and sport – what more could you ask for.

She started to protest again, I said I’ve heard enough, sounds like you could do with a holiday, why not go stay a while with your mother.

I’ve got used to the idea it’s final. If she doesn’t want to come back – there’s plenty more fish in the sea.

So, back to work, what to do – people can be so trying – Marlene did a cartoon – it was a picture of a lighthouse on a rock with lights beaming out to sea. She’d written my name on it – left it on her desk where I suppose she knew I’d see it.

Gave me quite a startle – churned up something inside me – it felt like the lighthouse was an empty, lonely place . I ripped it from the pad and hurled it into a bin.

So, how are we going, you’ve got some good ideas? You”ve got the name and the qualifications – I’m expecting some good advice from you…..

Yes, I do so agree that the workplace is not what it used to be, people have got no commitment, quite right that I should feel so angry – but yes, I see your point – it’s up to me to take control – don’t let these idiot people get under my skin – try and humor them.

Yes, I’ll try this tactic of praising them, acknowledging their input.  I’ ll try asking them for their opinion instead of telling them what to do. Sounds like good advice.

I’ll call you back into a couple of weeks – let you know how it works out.

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Roadie

Posted in Cocaine Addiction Stories on March 25th, 2012 by Janet

My names Matt and I’ve been a roadie until my Jemmy – honey child – got me to settle down. You ask me about drugs – and I could tell you some stories, about drugs out there on the road. Alcohol, booze – it gives you the energy to keep going – knock down, pack up and re-assemble in another town, another night – knock down, pack up and keep it going.

I was a roadie because there was no other place for me – since I was a child no one cared if I lived or died, and my step-dad was abusive. The road and the band – it was my life – life on the road was good for me, it was my family.

Richard was convinced beyond doubt that he was losing his mind – too much cocaine – too much alcohol – too much pressure on him. He lived in mortal fear of the boss – he knew no other way.

Richard was nervous, uncertain leading up to a gig – wanted to get away, – kick back – get out of it all, but Ricko had reached the top – high on the rungs of a star spangled ladder that others sought to climb. All he felt was vertigo and feelings of extreme anxiety – but he wouldn’t let the fans down. They are here to see me, he said – he wanted to perform. They needed him – he needed them. He took the drugs, did the gig and then didn’t want to come down.

Ricko used cocaine to fire himself up, to let it loose for the fans. Metal’s got like a life of it’s own, it takes over, surrounds you. It was full of anger, hate and rage – it was loud, it was heavy, it spoke for me, to me and – it was like a religion. Metal was my life, metal was part of me.

People blamed the boss when Ricko overdosed – died. I remember the night. It was a shock, an empty feeling to hear that Ricko had been taken to hospital by an ambo that didn’t bother to raise a siren, or run the traffic lights. It wasn’t just the o/d – Jacko fell from a five floor balcony at the hotel where we were staying, while we were all some place else getting ready for the show.

Four years on the road, a job that was demanding, dealing with a boss who was unrelenting, but it was more than that as drove Ricko to o/d – that pushed him over that balcony. He was a willing sacrifice, wouldn’t couldn’t be anywhere else – his fans needed him, he needed them – it was as simple as that.

When all’s said and done – no one’s to blame if the drugs got on top of him – it drove us all, we all did drugs, wanted to be a part of a big night out that would go on forever. We felt like the masters of the universe to get those people to come out, pay for tickets to see the show, you got no idea how it feels to be part of a crowd that is just so high on that energy – it takes you out of yourself – and you never really come down from it the whole time you’re on the road.

It was like we were all something special, apart – like we’ve brought into town something that it needs – we are it and all part of it – like we were on a mission.

I felt privileged – special when I was part of Ricko’s band, we delivered a message, for the true followers – those who understood. Participation, initiation – speaking out about our suffering in a way that made us feel in control and empowered over it.

But now I’ve settled down, with my Jemmy baby, its a different world – I don’t have that connection – that same drive, I’m still into metal yes but it doesn’t feed my soul like it did when I was part of the band and we were on the road. Yeah. somewhere along the way, it got like I needed some new experience – something had to change.

Metal was like people crying in pain from a place that they could not escape – but somewhere on the road, I met Jemmy and she was like from another place – less heavy, where pain and love were not intertwined – with Jemmy I learned to leave the pain of living behind me, out there on the road.

With Jemmy I found love, and understanding – she helped me to learn to let it go, and yeah, it’s still part of me – but it doesn’t drive me, feed me anymore – I miss the intensity, I miss the pressure, but no, – it’s a life I’ve left behind. The drugs, the drive, the journey – where pain and salvation is the same thing – always moving on – setting up in the same old way.

One day I knew things had to change – I had to get out of that dark place, find the light outside the door and I was lucky, I met Jemmy. Came out from that dark and relentless place, got into some proper rehab, that put things into perspective. Now I feel like I’m home free, and really loved for the first time in my life.

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Robin’s Nest

Posted in Cocaine Addiction Stories on March 18th, 2012 by Janet

Robin was brought up by his mother and his grandma, hardly knew his father at all, who had walked out in rebellion at what he thought was total matriarchy. The little lad was somewhat lost, and very often felt alone, although he was most attentively cared for, some might say almost smothered. He didn’t feel like he had a life of his own.

As a teen he took to drugs – smoking marijuana led onto trying cocaine, and Robin soon found he was hooked. He got away with leaving school and doing a menial job, nothing more was expected.

Encouraged to follow artistic pursuits, it didn’t bother his mother that around the house were half finished paintings, sketches – and bits of wire and plaster that were the beginnings of creative sculpture, never to be finished. She fondly imagined he’d be an artist one day – but never encouraged him to make any effort.

Robin met Charlene on internet, and they chatted together for months. Charlene suggested they might meet up, and so one day arrived at Robin’s home to be warmly greeted by his mother and grandma and taken in as one of the family.

Robin and Charlene got engaged, lived together in a room in Robin’s mother’s house – Robin lost interest in doing his artworks, and got more into going out of an evening to use some cocaine with his friends, leaving the “women” to chat and gossip among themselves.

Then there was a question of marriage, and where Robin might want to live. He and Charlene went off to live in a small apartment but it didn’t last very long. Robin’s wages didn’t extend to paying rent and doing cocaine – in any case, he might as well have stayed home – mother and grandma were round every day – with food, to help with the washing, to do some cleaning, and drink cups of tea with Charlene.

Moving back to mother’s and doing cocaine seemed like the logical thing to do. Eventually mother and grandma, got together, put down a deposit and bought a house just round the corner. They would put tenants in until Robin was ready to set up home. Soon after that Robin lost his job so the tenants continued to stay on.

Robin went from job to job for a while before starting work at a local art gallery, run by a friend of his mother. One day Charlene discovered that she was pregnant so hasty plans were made for a marriage, and to move the tenant’s out so that they could set up house.

Things were fine for a while until tension started to flare – Robin didn’t want mother and grandma around his place every day – he got angry and resentful, and for the first time he used cocaine around the house, and didn’t care that it upset Charlene.

She told him that if he didn’t stop using it she would go back to live with his mother, and then the baby was born that provided them with a distraction until Robin suddenly lost his job again.

There was an accusation that he had taken money that he fiercely denied, and it caused a rift with his mother’s friend that made his mother unhappy. Keep this up without a job, and you’ll have to come back home – I need you or a tenant to pay some rent – I can’t afford to pay for the house on my own complained Robin’s mother – her pleas fell on deaf ears, Robin had decided at some level that marriage and paying rent was not his style – he spent more time with a couple of friends who were into selling cocaine.

One night Robin was at a pub and his father was there. Seeing Robin he came right over and asked him how he was going. Sound’s like the same Robin’s Nest that I had to put up with, when I lived with your mother, was his father’s only comment – said good luck and was on his way. Meeting up with his father happened now and then – Robin didn’t ever arrange to meet up with his father – it made him too depressed.

After meeting up with his father, a sort of total depression set in – Robin went back to his house, to find his wife had taken the baby over to his mother’s where she was staying the night.

The house seemed empty to Robin. Empty – no one around – Robin felt a sort of fear. He used some cocaine and paced around – the whole world seemed to be surrounding him, caving in.

He found his depression interrupted by thoughts that were starting to race, and chase around in his head. It had happened a few times before – and got him pretty frightened, feeling so out of control. His heart was pounding, he wanted to cry, couldn’t stop these crazy thoughts that kept going round in his head.

Alone, alone – it filled him with fear. To be for once on his own was the one thing that Robin wanted – but couldn’t bear to be.

Alone, alone – he felt the rising tide of another panic attack.

He ran the whole way to his mother’s house, stood shaking at the door – he hated himself for running back home, knew there was nowhere else. He’d go to his room, do a line – and feel safe –  back in Robin’s Nest.

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Mother’s Kitchen

Posted in Cocaine Addiction Stories on March 10th, 2012 by Janet

Debbie left school when her parents split up, she stayed on with her father in the home. Her grandma said there was a job down at the nursing home caring for the residents – it would be a steady job. Debbie was taken on. Sitting out at morning tea she looked out of place, alone. The older women talked about the waste, the pity of it – said she ought to get another job – that got her more in touch with young people. But not knowing how to go about it, Debbie stayed with the job, attracted the attention of Mick, the cook, who talked to the hostel manager and got her working with him in the kitchen.

Mick got offered another job – to be the chef manager at the Mother’s Kitchen restaurant – asked Debbie to come on as staff. Debbie went to work with Mick.

Late hours together, they started up a relationship – Mick had been married sometime – there was a wife and kids that lived somewhere, that Mick never went to visit.  Mick had friends that he used to hang out with when the Kitchen closed. It was here that Debbie first saw cocaine, saw cocaine being used. It scared her a lot that they used cocaine but Mick told her to chill – no one bothers about cocaine – half the city uses it – it’s the only way to party.

Debbie didn’t feel ready to move in with Mick, but then the family home got sold, her father’s new partner made it clear she didn’t want Debbie around. Debbie moved in with Mick.

Mick kind of changed once Debbie moved in, like she was taken for granted, she would want to go home to bed, Mick would want to party. Debbie wanted Mick all to herself at home, wanted him to stop the cocaine parties – no, she wouldn’t do cocaine – she’d have a couple of drinks. Mick wasn’t quite so attentive to Deb at the parties now he had her at home. Deb noticed him flirting with other women. One night she got so incensed at him ignoring her, she told him she was leaving early and flounced out of the room.

Mick didn’t come back til late morning he hadn’t been home long when there was two men knocking on the door wanting a word with Mick. Mick went off with them, and he didn’t come back.

Deb had to start the Kitchen without him – lucky it was a quiet night. Debbie called the owner late next morning for news of Mick – the owner told Debbie to cook until Mick turned up – which he never did. Which is how Debbie got into being the cook at Mother’s Kitchen, spending her nights alone, spending her days with her eye on the door – wanting Mick to appear.

Debbie was a kindly soul, made people feel wanted. They inhaled her food, never wanted to go home. People respected that Debbie seemed to have some private thing that she never took up any offers to go out with men, and there was plenty that asked her.

All was happy until one day Mick re-appeared on the scene. Tired after work, Debbie went back to the flat – found Mick on the couch, discovered that he’d broken in through the bedroom window. Money said Mick, I need a fix – let’s get down to the ATM. Debbie in shock went where he led her, got the money, gave it to Mick. Wait up said Mick – we got some talking to do – as if she could go to sleep.

Mick returned, so wasted, so thin, Debbie wanted so much to hold him, but this couldn’t be, she couldn’t allow him – ok then, just one night.

It’s a dreary thing cocaine addiction, Debbie soon found out – she only made one rule for Mick that he was never, ever for any reason to come into the Kitchen – otherwise she decided that caring must be her fate. Most of the time Mick lounged around in the flat, in moods of deep depression, no company, no charm – a millstone round her neck that she lacked the courage to do anything about – and of course she gave him money – tried to do the right thing – tried to get him tidied up so that he could look for a job.

Then Debbie felt ill one day and the doctor confirmed she was pregnant. Despair filled Debbie’s soul. She thought about Mick’s wife and kids that were somewhere in the town, how could she work with a baby in hand, Mick would never support her. This baby would wreck everything. Debbie had a termination.

A few months later and Debbie felt sad, for no particular reason, life had become a chore. One night she came home from the Kitchen, feeling dead on her feet. Came into the flat and saw Mick hunched over some lines, sitting at the coffee table.

Debbie felt her eyes widen, felt a sharp intake of breath – went and leaned over Mick’s shoulder, and feeling relaxed she said – Hey, Mick – gimme some of that Marching Powder – I think I need a break.

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Cocaine Moma

Posted in Cocaine Addiction Stories on February 25th, 2012 by Janet

So why’s my child shaking me up, disturbing my sleep – it’s daylight, what’s that mean – is it morning or afternoon – hey, child, stop that crying and pushing me – what are you saying – I promised you – I promised you what. Hey, you stop harassing your Moma now,  go out in the kitchen – fix yourself something to eat – your Moma’s got a headache right now – I need to get more sleep.

So, the kid’s home, must be after school – god, where does time go these days – seems like only minutes ago – there she was in the doorway, pleading with me to get up and take her to school in the car as she had missed the bus – I said get yourself on the next bus along – tell school that your Moma’s got the flu.

I could hear her out in the kitchen, pouring a drink of milk or something from the fridge, then there was a crash of glass and a little gasp – I heard her go running into her room, with a slamming of the door. She’s written graffiti up on her door, even on some of the walls – I’ve told her before to wipe it off – makes the place look ugly. God, the girl’s beyond control.

Before I do anything at all – I’d better get into the shower, get myself a fix. Eddy’s coming over tonight – have to wash my hair, but before I know it, it’s gone dark, must have fallen asleep, and there’s Eddy calling on the mobile, be round in half an hour – I wanted to get frocked up, look pretty for Eddy – but its way too late now – Eddy will fix me a line or two – then I’ll get up and make some dinner.

Going into the kitchen with Eddy and there’s milk all over the floor, bits of glass sprayed everywhere. Jody I call , come out of your room, come into the kitchen right now – you come out do you hear me, clean up this mess on the floor. No answer so I went through the passage and pushed open her door. The room was empty.

Eddy said there was nothing in the kitchen that he wanted to eat, would go out, get take away for us both, but I wasn’t hungry – ended up we went back to bed – did some more cocaine. Must have been about half past two I heard Jody and someone come in, heard the door close on her room. Probably Michael, her new friend from school – don’t care for Michael much.

Michael doesn’t hardly speak – looks away from me, I don’t think we’ve said a word between us that I can remember. He always carries Jody’s bag, looks protective of her. She stopped writing the graffiti and messing up the bathroom mirror once Michael came onto the scene.

He’s the only one of her school friends comes round – I’ve had the welfare in more than once – they try and get me to clean up the unit – they reckon there’s signs of “rodent infestation” around the place, that could get Jody taken away. There’s one of them social workers said nothing would please her more than to get Jody into care – she reckons any sign of drugs – so I’m careful of that.

She did find cannabis once, prying around like she does but lucky it was in the lounge room and I said it must have been left behind by some friend of Eddy’s – yeah they’re onto Eddy alright but that’s fine – he can stay the night four times a week before they can screw my pension.

Morning and Eddy got up, said he would drop Jody and Michael at the school on his way into town, save them the bus or the walk – I got up later, cleaned over the kitchen floor – lucky for Jody there was people over or I would have got stuck into her – made her clean up that milk before she’d go to school.

I’m lucky I’ve got Eddy – helps out with the rent sometimes, always good for coke – Eddy wants to marry me, he lives with his mother, treats her real good. Sometimes Eddy loses it, belts me around, but it’s ok – was never any better when I was with Jody’s father – he’s inside doing time. Won’t let him in when he gets out – now that I’ve got Eddy.

Yeah, it’s good of you to offer to get me something at the shops – I got no more money until this time next week, I’d ask you to get me some washing powder, but the washing machines broke down, Eddy said he’ll look up a replacement at the weekend, he’ll pay for it I know, he’s real good like that. So bye for now, I’ll see you, yeah, you too – take care.

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Edward

Posted in Cocaine Addiction Stories on February 19th, 2012 by Janet

He’s gone to jail for a year, and I’m only now starting to feel some space. Finally, I’m a partner and I feel like I can start a new life. Two years in the office with Edward – I thought I would suffocate – it was like Edward took over my life.

I was pleased to finish law school and get employment with my boss who was semi retired. He expected a peaceful life and for me to get on with the work. He’d taken on another lawyer, a few years before me. Offered him a partnership and helped him out with a loan. I was engaged and thought that my life was pretty much mapped out. I would work hard, become a partner and then we would set the date.

One day my boss called me in, and I thought this is it, he’s going to offer me a partnership but it was not to be – my boss told me how he had met up with an engaging fellow, presently in a city practice, but looking for greener pastures. He was taking him on, and I would be working with him. I hid my disappointment, it was no big deal, maybe with more work on board, I would be offered a partnership soon.

Edward strode into the office, a stout and portly fellow, he used a cane with a flourish and was full of bonhomie. It wasn’t long before problems began to appear – Edward strutted and performed, but didn’t do any work. I saw clients at short notice when Edward didn’t turn up, swotted up on the relevant law minutes before court appearances that Edward shoved onto my plate.

The worst thing was his filing system. Edward had a filing arrangement on his desk where all new correspondence had to be put. It meant you had to search through that before you could do anything at all. I did once raise it as a problem but Edward said that was how he preferred to work.

Then the senior secretary came to me, asking what to do – the staff were getting mighty cross – Edward was stealing their food. There was a communal fridge that everyone respected. Staff would go to the fridge to get their lunch, and find that Edward had consumed it.

The problem was shortly sorted out by the opening of a pizza shop, on the opposite block, that served wine with meals. Edward each day could be seen swaying back from lunch, with traces of pizza around his mouth, although he managed to spruce himself up if needing to see clients. I found one day a piece of foil that had dropped on the washroom floor, and I was suddenly a wake up to what was going on with Edward.

I asked around and soon discovered he’d been kicked out of the city practice, due to a cocaine habit.

About to tell my boss, he called me in to announce that he was going on vacation – I could look after the shop. I decided not mention about Edward until the boss came back.

Snowed under with Edward’s work already, struggling with my own, and now having to fill in for the boss started to take its toll, and I ended up having an almighty bust up with my fiancee who said not to bother to be in touch at least til my boss came back.

Grizzled and grumpy, I took to the gym, coming home too tired to cook, I took to knocking back scotch and soda – at least it put me to sleep. Then my fiancee called, said something I ought to know was that Edward was not sacked for cocaine – but for stealing money from the firm, that had been hushed up.

I went to the other partner who told me he was finished with my boss – he was working for an hourly rate only until my boss returned. He wanted nothing to do with Edward.

I couldn’t think about anything else except checking the trust account, but our bookkeeper was off sick.

Then a developer client of Edwards got in a huff about being neglected, and demanded his files and the money, the deposits we had on account – I made sure the figures were right, according to the ledgers, and handed him a check. Edward I noticed didn’t turn up the day that the client was coming in.

The bookkeeper came back to work and came in to see me – we were overdrawn on the accounts of the client who’d gone by about $ 40,000 – I wanted to shoot myself right there and then – how could I have made the error – the client might be difficult, not want to return the money – and the boss was due back in a couple of days. All the pressure suddenly got to me, I went home and drank myself under the table.

Money was short and I was to blame – but part of me said no.  I ransacked through the draws in Edward’s room next time I had to go in there when Edward didn’t turn up – and I found a list of amounts of money that just happened to add up to $40,000. I was feeling hungover again so I didn’t stop to reason, I called the police and said I thought that Edward had stolen the money.

Edward got a year inside – cocaine never got a mention – he’d been under pressure from his young wife for money to send back home to her family that had medical bills to pay and Edward had some complex defense that he thought he had been drawing the money against his income.

The jury seemed sad that they had to convict, the judge was as lenient as possible, because by the end of the case, everyone but me was feeling sorry for Edward.

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Only Having Fun

Posted in Cocaine Addiction Stories on February 11th, 2012 by Janet

I’m Jason and want you all to know that I don’t do drugs any more – though sometimes I get the most immense cravings that seem to come up from nowhere – no way will I ever use again. Well yeah, I do drink alcohol. But that’s not the same. Drugs – well, drugs are different to alcohol.

So, what’s brought this on – this abstinence – this holier than thou not doing drugs again – when I know you all are still using – and pretty happy to do it – just the same.

I don’t know how you can – and if you do, then why, what was Jimmy’s life for then – if not to show us that coke is not a fun drug at all – in fact totally evil. It took Jimmy’s life. And that’s the plain fact that I have to go by.

At the funeral, I didn’t go back for the wake – I didn’t want to be there – I went right up to Jimmy’s Mom – looked into her empty eyes – I said – I want you to know that Jimmy’s life isn’t wasted, from now on I’m staying clean, not using any more – please, don’t blame us, you know we never meant anything bad to happen – we were only having fun.

She held me in her arms a while until someone came and gently walked her away. I looked at Jimmy’s father in the distance but could not think how to approach him at all, so I let it go.

Somehow it made things seem all the worse, as he was their only son.

Jimmy had been so full of life, the first to take a risk – if you’d thought he would die early you’d have thought that it would be coming off his bike, freezing to death on a mountain, or drowning in the lake. But not to be that way, it was that Jimmy hung himself – suffering from depression they said. I hadn’t noticed that. How could it be depression, it must have been the drugs.

The night he died he hadn’t used, so that’s a complication – but he’d been down with us at the bar, and downed a pint or two – well yeah, maybe six or eight, but that’s nothing over an evening, and nothing unusual for Jimmy any night of the week.

So, about this depression, I don’t really know – we’re all under pressure here – the student life seems easy to some – but that’s not how it feels. You can get as stoned or as drunk as you like but it never goes away – you’ve got to study, you’ve got to pass – a lot of money has been spent – you can’t let people down – you’ve got this huge expectation of you, that you got to fill.

Coke was different, it was clean, not like alcohol – it got me reliably high as a kite – right out of it, above it all for a while. And all of us thought it was great to party on weekends – including Jimmy. Josh got it for us cheap, he said he had a friend.

No, I never knew that Jimmy was depressed. His mother at the inquest testified that he called up home sometimes, said he wanted a break, it was getting all too much – but his mother had said how he might as well see out the year – the fees had been paid in advance.

No, he never explicitly said that he was using cocaine, he said he was drinking a lot, but no more than the other students. In my experience Jimmy could hold his liquor – never got sick, never passed out – and didn’t use more coke than anybody else. We all put in and shared it out – we all got an equal amount.

Perhaps it was more that Jimmy never wanted to study at all – he told me that one day. Said given a chance he would be out of here – and paddling up the Amazon. I never thought about it much at the time – we all have to let off steam.

And it wasn’t that Jimmy was failing at all – he seemed to be keeping up with his grades. How could a person be so depressed, and you wouldn’t know. It couldn’t have been that Jimmy was really depressed, it must have been the drugs.

So yeah, I’m committed to stay off the coke – it’s something I want to do – but can’t say that something in me doesn’t still want to use – sometimes I get cravings really awful.

What I’ve done is had to keep away from that group that still uses coke – no way could I imagine actually seeing it there – and maybe not give in.  So, that’s been a bit of a blow – I thought perhaps that they all might stop after what happened with Jimmy – but no, it is only me that’s given it up. And yes, I miss my mates.

I suppose one day I might give in, but right now, I say I won’t. Right now I don’t want to use coke, ever again, in memory of Jimmy.

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The Whole Nine Years

Posted in Cocaine Addiction Stories on February 9th, 2012 by NeilHasHadEnough

The very first time i did cocaine I was 15, I couldn’t even remember it giving me a high. I did it with friends i never used to hang around with much, they were very persuasive and seemed exited about it. I wont lie, I was interested in something new and the way these guys were talking about it I felt like I could not lose! That time they told me not to worry about giving them money. I had no idea how much it costed so i suppose i was pleased about that. We all  drove to the dealers house and they gave him £60, in return..the fuck dust! One of my Friends was so out of control, he even opened it up to have some there and then and he squealed with happiness. That made the rest of the gang even more crazy! we got back did the whole lot! talked complete SHIT to each other and got drunk. i was more drunk than anything, and tired. They wanted more so they got more…i went home and im not sure why?!

A few weeks later i had a party at my gf’s. we invited lots of people (whom which had coke with them) and had a good time. Everyone pulled out there white bags nd sniffed my house down…as so did I. Free drugs at a party?! ”Why Not?” i said. That time i felt more high than the first time.

Months pass on and i got a really good job. Someone I knew asked me on the street if i was taking it. i replied, ”now n again”. He gave me a phone number and told me it was strong so i thought wow. So on my next payday i called him up and told him i wanted £20 worth. i got it and it lasted me all night! i played video games, had a few beers and went on a walk. it didnt feel heavy what-so-ever.

Nearly a year goes by, I am buying it every payday but sometimes its more than £20. I call my friends up on a friday and was exited about the weekend…..NOT COS ITS FRIDAY……Because i have money for cocine. There was one night i wont forget. No alcohol was consumed that night, just cocaine. Got the £40 worth and did it all in  hours. I had more money and said this was supposed to be my money for fags for the week? but everything else was paid so Fuck it! lets do it!! i got another £40 and spanked it in an hour. The night was dragging along so harshly, I felt like I was in a cage and I couldn’t move and the one thing i had in my head was more more MORE!! we could not gat anymore and went home thinking of alternatives of getting it. We failed, but we knew this wasn’t the end of the story….

3 years have passed and i have been off and on with cocaine. most months i say i was going to quit for good and i always had that scratch in the back of my mind when i got money. my gf just told me she was pregnant. No words could of described how i was feeling. I was Mad, Happy, Aggressive, Upset, Shocked and paranoid of my future. Cocaine was half of my life at this point and EVEN then…that very moment i said to myself in my head how was i going to afford coke and a baby? I am an arse-hole. I got to a point where none of my old friends wanted to hang around with me nor my family. After a few days, we decided to keep the baby and try to change our lives…..

My little Girl was born in Febuary and she is the greatest thing that has happened to me. I stopped taking coke for a while. Not because i had to…but because i didnt think of it. It was that simple….something greater came into my life and i forgot all about it.

My 20th birthday was a day i would not lke to remember but cut a long story short i got a gram cos i was drunk..then another one…then another. until i called up my dealer and said its my birthday and could he do me another gram until i get paid. He didnt mind…but that was a question i will live to regret.

4 years pass and i am in the worst state of my life! surprisingly i am still working and have a secure job with them. i still take coke because i think it is all of what i know. i dont drink i dont smoke weed all i do is cocaine…and lots. The same dealer from before will still let me run up a coke bill until i get paid. The worst i ever did was £500 in a month all on tick. I am a wild dog who needs a leash. I am not ashamed for asking directions, just ashamed of who i am.

Every cocaine user has an upsetting story but i believe we can delete them pages in our book of life and re-write the future ones. I know i can stop. I just dont know how….

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Holding On.

Posted in Cocaine Addiction Stories on February 4th, 2012 by Janet

My world’s turned upside down, I don’t know what to do – my husband – ever since the company he trusted went broke – he’s changed into someone I don’t know. He got depressed, that was fair enough but so bitter, so much hate – I wished he could have just moved on like the others did – got another job – what would have been the problem with that.

But no, he took it bad, said he was never going to work for no rich bastard ever again – he was going to get out there and show the world he was as good as them – no one ever again was going to treat him like shit.

He’d never used language like that before – it made me feel frightened of him, he was so full of anger. Every time he would swear like that, it made me tense. My stomach churned up in a knot, it made my hands start to shake.

I was glad when he would finally go out of the house, but then I would start to feel sad, wish that he was back home again, like it used to be.

No one got paid any money, not even their last fortnight’s pay, – but the bosses kept their houses, their money – their cars. We had to sell our car to keep going until my husband could think what to do. He decided to train up in real estate, a way to make big money. No way will I go back to a day job, he said – to be a rich man’s lackey.

I guess my husband was getting to be well known and successful – always on the phone, hardly ever home, wearing expensive suits – it was as if my husband had walked out the door, and a stranger had come to take his place. It wasn’t that he ignored me, he was always talking, about the real estate, the sales, the pressure, the pace – but it was like he didn’t need me – often I felt like he was appraising me, that I didn’t measure up.

We had always had wages before – never these lump sum commissions that only come in when the home gets sold. The more we got into the real estate, the more tense it got – like an emotional roller coaster – specially the times that a deal might fall through – bringing home no money at all, when it had been expected.

I heard rumors that my husband was getting in with a racy set, but until recently, he was still coming home at night. Often very late he comes in, with a sort of far away look in his eyes. Sometimes he’ll crash out on the couch, wake in a foul tempered mood.

Sometimes he’ll get onto the net, looking at properties – then after a shower, and without any sleep, he’ll drive back out to work.

It’s got so that I can”t relax at all, never dare ask about money, somehow it seems that whatever he earns, for him it is never enough. He begrudges me using the credit card, I spend as little as I can on me and the kids so as not to get him in a rage about the money I waste.

The kids are good, they already know that Dad is working weekends, evenings, so can’t be there for them. They’ve learned to stay out of his way, and I know they always try to be good so as to be no trouble to me.

The latest of the rumors has been my husband seen lunching with women – I know that it’s all business related, but somehow that got to me – I went to the doctor and now I’m on valium, doesn’t stop me from having a glass or two of wine when cooking tea – and usually another to help me get off to sleep.

And now here’s the thing that I want to ask you about – tell me what you think – I was looking into the draws of the computer desk – I’ve sometimes found some money there, that my husband doesn’t seem to miss, and I found a little plastic bag, with some powder in it. I put it back exactly as I found it. If its drugs, and he’s using drugs, that means we are in trouble – I know people that get into drugs end up in rehab one day when they’ve used up all their money.

I don’t want to lose our house, it’s everything to me, I never had a real home. I make it nice for me and the kids – don’t you think it’s for the best, if I pretend I didn’t see that little packet – could have been anything, don’t want to cause a fight and discover that it wasn’t drugs at all.

So, yes, I think I’ve made up my mind – carry on as normal – who knows he might decide one day that he is happy in his job, he might even take a weekend off – take the kids to sport.

Yes, better not to cause a fuss – you never know, things might improve, if I just keep going the way that I am, and make sure that I don’t upset him.

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