Cocaine Addiction

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I’ve withdrawn from school.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.

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…