I started using drugs when I was seven years old.  I ran around my parents’ parties smoking the roaches out of the ashtray and sipping the beers that people had left on the table.  Even as a child I wanted to get out of myself.  Around age 12, I started taking some of the pain and anxiety pills my mother had lying around the house.  By age 13, I was smoking pot and taking opiates daily.  By age 14, I had a habit. 

   I had to support that habit somehow, so I sold pot out of my bedroom window.  I would use the money to buy more pot but mostly pills.  Vicodin, percocet, darvocet, lortab, xanax, codeine, soma, ultram… whatever I could get my hands on to keep me from feeling sick and catch me a buzz.  When I was 19, I was introduced to oxycontin.  I thought it was great that I only had to take 1 or 2, 40mg pills to get the same effects of taking 15 percocets.  I knew someone that was getting a prescription of 90 oxys per month, so I would charge the script on my credit card and he would give me half of them.  I thought this was great.  After a while, the money was running out and I decided to go to detox and outpatient rehab for a little break.  After two weeks, I realized they wanted me to quit doing all drugs!  They were out of their minds!  I decided rehab wasn’t for me. When I went back to the guy with the OC’s, he said, “Since you went to rehab, you must think you have a problem so, I’m not going to sell them to you anymore.”  That fucking asshole!  What am I going to do now?  I need those pills! 

   The guy I was dating said that he could get some heroin and it was the same as snorting the OC’s.  I said ok.  The first time I did heroin, I split 1 bag with someone else.  I snorted the little line and fell held over heels in love.  It was what I had been searching for my entire life!  I couldn’t believe that I could spend $10 on a little bag of powder that made me feel… well, like someone besides me.  I thought it was amazing.  It was instantaneous and cheap too! From that moment on, heroin was all I could think about. 

   Who can get me more?  What can I do to get more?  When can I get more?  Where do I have to go to get more?  More, More, More. 

   My life was over even though I thought it had just begun. After a few days, it began to get more expensive.  I was building up a tolerance and I now needed 3 or 4 to feel the same way one made me feel.  It wasn’t long before I was shooting heroin.  Someone had told me it was cheaper.  I didn’t want to do it because I hated needles.  Watching someone use a needle on T.V. made me feel woozy so how could I use a needle myself?  Well, when I was sick and only had enough to buy one stamp bag, my fear of needles seems to miraculously vanish.  How about that?!  At first, it was difficult for me to fix up the dope and find a vein, but luckily I had a friend who was more than willing to help.  How nice of him!  Many times, I was sick, but he would make me wait until he shot his and smoked a cigarette before he would hit me.  If you are a junkie like me, you know that three minutes seems like three days when you are waiting to get well.  Needless to say, I learned to shoot on my own.     

   At this time, shooting heroin was still fun.  I was working so I had a paycheck coming in and I could make some dope here and there by copping for other people.  I would get my dope, drive to this cemetery close to the dealer’s house, shoot it, lie in the grass, smoke a cigarette, smoke a joint… it was a beautiful thing.  I’m not quite sure where my addiction to heroin crossed the line from being a really fun hobby to a twenty-four-hour-a-day job.  I don’t quite remember that day.  It just happened.    Copyright ©