Cocaine Addiction

Windsor got named because his Mom and Dad were living out back of the Windsor Hotel at the time he was born. How he survived, no-one knew, with a drug dealer for a father, a mother on the game. Windsor went to school, got an education, main reason he went was he stole his Dad’s drugs and sold them to his school mates in the schoolyard. Changing schools as he often did, was no trouble to Windsor – he made new friends real easy – by reason of dealing cocaine.

Now Windsor never used the stuff. He’d used it once, and loved it. Windsor knew if he ever went back, and used again – he’d become an addict. Truth to say he was already, in that moment addicted to cocaine. Only once, you wouldn’t think, that quick, how could you know, straight away – you were and would be addicted.

So, it was like a sort of reaction formation, Windsor loved cocaine so much that he pretended he didn’t like it, or want to use it just one time again. Instead he become a dealer, and pushed it for all he was worth. You could say that Windsor got addicted to pushing cocaine.

By last year in school, Windsor made his way up to one of the mining towns, worked days as a trades assistant, kept up his dealing of an evening. He really didn’t cut the working routine, although he did try hard. Soon he was the manager, then part owner of a night club portside, complete with girls and bouncers. Windsor didn’t use, and everybody knew that. People knew him to be reliable.

Seeing a need, Windsor sold out his interest in the club, and set up a security outfit that covered all the usual bases, and guaranteed no criminal activity in your club, no bikers driving away legitimate custom – you paid for, and got, no hassles. People trusted Windsor and Windsor in turn gave good value for money, never let anyone down.

Then Windsor got hitched to a bar girl who said that she would give up cocaine for him, and they settled into quiet domesticity, kept a low profile and raised kids. Windsor thought he’d gone respectable, cut the ties with his past, even stopped dealing in coke. The business was doing fine and Windsor wanted more than anything to be regarded as legit.

Driving home one early morning he got sideswiped by a drunk driver trying to shoot a red light, and was six months in hospital. It was the end of his business, that someone new in town took over, gave Windsor some money to get Windsor’s business into his name, told Windsor to leave town.

The only money Windsor had was in his house, that he sold. He and Debbie and kids moved further down the coast, where Windsor had no option but to start dealing again.

One evening, suffering extreme pain, Windsor drank a lot of alcohol, and did a line of cocaine.

Windsor just kept using and dealing, going slowly down the drain, until Debbie said she was leaving, taking the kids to her mother’s place, and was going to get herself a job. Windsor didn’t care – told her to get on out of his life. Without the kids and Debbie, Windsor let the apartment go, slept on the beach for a week, ended up staying in the garage of a mate, that had an old settee, and a few rats for company.

Windsor thought about his kids, missed them endlessly, but knew deep down it was for the best – just to let them go.

What was he after all, just a low life, low down dealer, the second generation of his father, dead now these past two years, Windsor didn’t know where his mother had gone, she moved on right after the funeral, hadn’t contacted him since that day, and now it seemed it would only be lucky chance that they might ever meet up again. If she wasn’t already dead and he didn’t know.

Thinking back to that day when he had first tried coke, Windsor knew then what he knew now, that the only love, the light of his life would ever be cocaine.

Slowly he took a slug of bourbon, enjoyed the burn on his throat, and then slowly and with infinite care he tipped and cut some coke. Chased it around with the blade of his knife, patted and fussed it into shape. He used a nice clean straw from the pack, never used a straw more than once.

Then quickly, but without haste snuffed a line of coke into each nostril, pinching the other one tight. He dabbled his finger into the bourbon, and rinsed around the insides of his nose. Took a deep relaxing breath, settled back to wait for the rush …and in that moment, he was happy.

When I got a scholarship to go to University, my mother was determined I would make good. She contacted a cousin with an apartment in the city, that hopefully I could share.

He called Mum back, said I was welcome. No rent if I did the cleaning. Mostly he was out of town – it should work out real fine.

I arrived, put my cases down in a guest room that looked like it had been transported direct from Indonesia – batiks, carvings, scented wood – nothing like the project bedsit where I had lived with my mother for years. I was impressed.

Bennett was well traveled, and very well educated. He said to make myself at home. I felt transported to Asia, as I sat and ate Thai curry with Bennett – felt like I had suddenly grown up.

Bennett took an early flight next day, and would not be back for three weeks. A most beautiful, impressive apartment – and all mine til Bennett returned. Being in this lavish apartment sure boosted my self confidence – no embarrassment at all about admitting to living here.

I met Luke at the first student party and it was like we were soul mates. I asked him back to the apartment and I could see that he was comfortable in surroundings that I was still getting used to. We smoked a while, on the balcony, overlooking the bay. Later we hit the hay and everything was just fine.

When Bennett returned, he said he was having a party, I was welcome to bring a friend, his friends being somewhat older. Said did I mind if he smoked some dope – I offered him some of mine. I felt so cool and in control. I asked Luke to Bennett’s party and he said yeah, great.

The party was fully catered, and halfway through the night, hands were clapped, and silence made, for the bringing in of Bennett’s birthday cake. I could not believe my eyes – the plate was carefully placed down upon the white linen tablecloth – a plateful of coke that had to be worth at least $20,000.00.

Bennett cut into his cake, and next minute all of the guests were happily cutting out lines. Help yourselves, said Bennett expansively, seeing me and Luke standing back. Plenty more where that came from – if it should run out.

I was stunned to see Luke move in and bring back a line for me and for him.

Things were moving too quick for me, but I thought I had better stay cool. It was my first line ever, and it burned right up my nose. But lucky Luke was there for me, we went back to my room.

After a while Luke said he’d go back for more. I said no, not for me, but he came back with more anyway, so what else was I to do.

I never felt happy doing cocaine on it’s own, it made me feel nervous, on edge. But Luke used coke, so I used coke – part of being together. I started to use cannabis or alcohol with coke – gave me a really spacey feeling, so relaxed that sometimes I didn’t get around to going to Uni – didn’t worry too much about cleaning – Luke had virtually moved in. Often, with Bennett away, we stayed in bed and did lines all day.

Months later – Bennett away, Luke staying over and using Bennett’s computer. Luke suddenly appeared – Jen, he said, I’m worried – I just found a heap of child pornography, sort of hidden in Bennett’s computer.

Might be best if you moved out – perhaps move in with me. I shifted over to Luke’s the same day. Bennett didn’t mind at all – he had become Luke’s dealer.

Living in the flat with Luke I let my life spin out, and I virtually stopped going to Uni. I wasn’t sure but thought that I might be expecting a baby.

One day an unbearable headache came on. I felt sick and vomited, went to lie on the bed. I woke up later to find, I still had the headache, and felt weak all down one side. Luke was worried enough to take me to the doctor – ended up in hospital for some tests, to be told I’d had a minor stroke, but at least I wasn’t pregnant. Back home Luke said he was off to buy more coke, did I want to come along like I usually did – but now with the stroke I felt clumsy, one eyelid drooped as did the side of my mouth. The doctor said it would come good but it would take some time.

A fog of depression quickly set in, I felt almost suicidal after Luke had left the flat. I didn’t want to do drugs any more – I wanted to go to rehab and get well again.

Bennett came back with Luke to see how I was going …. was there anything I needed. I said yes, I want to go to rehab to get off the coke and get better from the stroke.

Bennett gave out a great peal of laughter – Jen, he said, you asking the biggest dealer in town to give you money for rehab? I said, I guess I am. Bennett slapped his thigh, gave another chuckle, and said Jen, my girl, I’ll do it – what’s it cost – I’ll send you money. Then he was up and gone.

I could see Luke was thoughtful, and then he suddenly said – I’ll get money from my folks – I’m going to go in with you Jen – we can do the rehab together. I never did coke before the party – it’s like it’s gotten hold of me now – and look what its done to you.

At once, my world brightened up, perhaps there was hope after all – me and Luke were soul mates, and I knew – we could beat this together.

Cocaine addiction. I always said I didn’t have an addictive personality. I had issues in my life. Depressed and bipolar. But i always had it under control. I went to school. Got accepted to great universities. I started blowing cocaine during my first and last year of university. I didn’t think about what I was doing then. I just wanted to experience everything. I always loved taking risks and when i got offered a line, i took it. It was nice. Then i forgot about it, until I met a dealer. I had money and i thought, why not?

To be honest, i don’t regret it. I feel like this numbness is all that’s getting me through at this point. Without cocaine, i can see myself going completely insane. I just don’t have control over the depression anymore. But maybe it’s the coke? I don’t know. Sometimes, I think i’ve gone too far. Especially when i blow all the money i make. But, it motivates me too go to work, and function in society because there is light at the end of my day. I can come home, send a text, and have this beautiful white lady make everything all right. But the reality is the only functioning i do with society is during my dead end serving job.

As i write all this i can see this so called addiction. I am scared but i tell myself i am not addicted. But i can see that I am. Nothing matters anymore. Friends, there just there, good for the moment, but if they disappeared, I wouldn’t care. Family. I don’t even really think about them anymore. All i think about is money and making sure i have enough to cover my rent, utilities and cocaine. Even food is at the end of my list. I buy food when i have left over money after my cocaine purchase. Relationships? Yeh, that’s not even possible at this point. I couldnt put the effort to get to know someone if i tried. And even if i did, who would want to be in a relationship with someone who will put a drug before you?

I’ve withdrawn from school. Dissapointed my family. Cut of the friends i have that tried to tell my that cocaine is become a problem. To be honest they should have known better than to try and tell my how to run my life. I don’t need people like that in my life… but i do need people. Because at this point, the only time i don’t feel lonely is when i have coke. And it sucks. I think, i really need to get out before this escalates to the point when i am pawning shit for fucking gram.

I used to be happy. I used to be that girl that’s always smiling and giggling. Always in a great mood, as if the world was just filled with sunlight and shit. But, even then I felt an emptiness. And that smile was a pretense. Now it’s just all gone, and my emptiness is become overwhelming. I want to stop, but to be honest I don’t how i can. I don’t if i can do it alone. I need help, but i just don’t really have anyone to turn to anymore. So now, as this last line fades away I will sleep, wake up in a few hours, go to work, make money, buy blow and do the same shit again. Until i can’t avoid this anymore. Until i am forced to make a change. It’s a fucked up life i am living. And the worse part is, i am aware and just dont care.