The Rise and Fall of a Drug Addict – Part 4

What a mess I have gotten myself into, 25 years old, and hooked on crack. After I left my parents house five years ago, I went to stay with some guys I use to work with. Unfortunately, these guys did more drugs then I was doing in any given day. Of course as time went on and I was going from job to job, and not really doing anything with my life, it was just easy for me to take my drug use up to another level. I don’t even know how I got hooked on this stuff in the first place. I was getting high at some guys house with some other people I know, and one these guys passed me a pipe, and said this will definitely make you feel better. The high was like nothing I ever experienced before; it gave me this intense feeling, almost like total bliss. I remember the high not lasting very long, but my mind was screaming at me for more.

Drug addict suffering.

It went on like this for some time, throughout my mid twenties I became very unreliable as an employee, and could barely hold down a job. My parents were catching on to everything; yet, I don’t think they knew I was hooked on crack. I never imagined I would end up like this, I always thought things were under control. Right now I am working as a bartender at a local bar, it seems to support my habit, and I work at night. I don’t sleep much; I seem to be spending most of my day getting high. I live in a tiny one-bedroom apartment, its cheap and in a bad area, but I am left alone. I haven’t talked to my parents in months, and they have not tried to contact me. Some days I wish this never happened to me, and other days I can’t go on unless I am getting high. I remember one day specifically, it was actually one week before my 26^th birthday and when I got into work, I was given a message that my parents had called. Being that I did not own a phone, or any real means of keeping in contact with anyone, the bar was the only place anyone could reach me at. My parents found out I was working there through one of my old high school friends who came in one night. Anyways, the message said for me to call them, it was about my birthday. Part of me was very suspicious about why I was getting a call now, but another part of me was relieved I got the phone call. I would call them the next day after work.

I got to a pay phone outside my apartment and called my folks, my mom answered the phone. She was inviting me over for dinner to celebrate my birthday; she said it was going to be just the three of us there. I didn’t really hesitate, I said yes, and she told me what time to be there and offered to pick me up. I told her I would just have a friend drop me off; I did not want my parents to see where I lived. I made it to my parent’s house, and saw my mother standing outside waiting for me. She smiled and seemed happy to see me, and I did everything I could to hide my drug use; yet, I think she still knew. She brought me inside and walked me to the living room, and I saw my father, my brother, and one of my high school friends all sitting in the room. This strange guy came up to me and introduced himself as a intervention counsellor. I did not know what to think, I wasn’t high, so I knew this wasn’t a dream. He sat me down, and him and my family all started intervening. Of course, I denied everything, and blamed them for everything, got angry, threatened suicide, anything I could think of to get them to back off. The thought never crossed my mind to just take off and run, I guess because I was sober, there was a part of me that wanted to hear this. But, I was not convinced; they said they had a treatment centre picked out for me, and everything was going to be ok, they loved me and did not want to see me like this.

Long and short of it; I walked out. My parents gave me a bottom line and told me never to contact them unless I wanted help, and that they could not support me. My dad, just as he did five years ago, gave me a number to the treatment centre, and said nothing. I got back into my regular routine, but my drug use picked up to the point I was missing work again. Eventually I got fired, and I had no money saved.