Cocaine Addiction

The addict is my boyfriend, well technically fiance but I really don’t think we’ll be getting married. We’ve been together for five years come this December, but we’ve been living together for three years. We just had our first baby, she’s two months and looks exactly like him. When we first began dating I had no clue he was an addict. He didn’t actually tell me until our relationship was pretty involved.

At first I didn’t think it was too bad, he was normal. He has a good job, in a hospital, he was in school and he had goals in life. It wasn’t until we started living together that I noticed how bad he was. I’ve never known anyone with a cocaine addiction and I had never tried it. He wanted me to try it with him, to see what it was like. I am not into drugs, I’ve tried smoking pot, do to peer pressure and didn’t like it but he wanted me to try just a little coke. I tried it with him, I didn’t like it, and I regret ever trying it.

He continued using and when he’d come he’d feel guilty the next day. He’d show me his little baggy with the white powder in it and say he wasn’t going to do that anymore, that he’d stay home with me next time. He’d be super nice with me for a week and the cycle would start again. I tried telling his mom and try to get her to intervene, to talk to him. She never really did, it’s like she thinks I make this up. She doesn’t really see a problem, she says he pays his bills, but he started missing work and that’s when she noticed. He’s gotten worse and since I’m the one living with him, I see the worst of it. He’s tried strangling me, pushing me, slapped me while he’s coked out. The next day he doesn’t apologize and tries to be all nice to me and expects me to hug and kiss him as if nothing ever happened. He lies to himself about using, he lies to me about where’s he’s at and who’s he with. I wouldn’t doubt if he has cheated on me too.

His personality has changed a whole lot, he no longer has any goals, he is not in school and he is working for a drug dealer too. I think the drug dealer is making his addiction worse. On my birthday party he even offered my dad some coke! He didn’t come home to sleep for the first time. It seems like no one cares but me. Well I won’t let this go on any further, I’ve had enough! I am getting out of here, for my baby and my own good. He has lied to me for the last time, hurt me for the last time, and I refuse to cry over him… for the last time it’s over. He won’t stop…he won’t…

-someone

Submit your own cocaine addiction story.

Just like “someone” did.

I sat hugging my knees on the steps of the library. That stupid sandwich truck was late again. I probably should complain, they came by every night and they gave for free but that night I was starving. I’d been coked up for 2 days and now it was wearing off. I was hungry, cold and getting into a terrible mood. For a moment, I let my thoughts wander and I wondered about my kids.

I have 2 kids. I have a little girl 5, and a boy, 3. When my habit got bad I left them with my mom. At least they would be fed and taken care of which is more than I can give them on the streets. All I’d have to do is show up and tell my mom that I’m ready to do rehab. Where the hell is that sandwich truck? I saw someone I knew (and suspected may know how to get some coke) and ran down to meet them. No luck finding any. It was not going to be a good night. I could tell already.

I saw people starting to gather near the street and I fell in line. Dinner must be rolling up. I guess it was nice of these people to do this but by then I was in such a bad mood I pretty much barked out an order.

“Two sandwiches, hot chocolate” I said tensely. “Oh, and do you have any blankets?”

Lucky me, they did so I got my food, drink and my warmth for the night. I didn’t eat that food, I inhaled it. In fact, I wished I had more. It was time to stake my claim for some real estate for the night.

I found a fairly secluded spot and wrapped up in the blanket. My head hurt and I knew it was going to get worse. I began mumbling to myself and I knew that the sweating would begin soon. At that moment, all I wanted was to shoot up. All I wanted was enough to give me a buzz for a few minutes. It was always “just one more” with me. I started trembling and I suspected it was more from lack of drugs than the cold.  How many times would I detox myself only to go right back to shooting up? Then I heard a familiar voice saying “Hey there, sweetie.  Looks like you could use a little help.” One more…just one more…