[font=verdana, arial, helvetica]This is something I've never told anyone. It's always been an embarassment to me, so I don't even mention it at all. Not even to people with similar drug problems. Not even my closest friends, one of which posts on these forums and will probably read this for the first time. It's hard for me to write this. If not for that friend, I probably would have used this internet community to vent long ago. Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you guys knew how much thought I've put into posting this.
Alright, so my story starts about a year ago. I had been relatively drug-free up until that point, but something around this time had opened up a curiosity in me and I was ready to expiriment. Expirimentation gradually grew into habit. My friends and I had nothing better to do, so we'd score a deal, cut it, get rid of it, and pull in more money to make sure we always had that fix. It was all we thought about, but we didn't realize our bored "nothing-better-to-do" habit was becoming an addiction. Today I cop in large amounts about once a week, and I find myself cooking it up and using all throughout the day. There's a never a moment when I don't have the stuff. I can feel the blackness when I give a new score a taste. It's so refreshing. It's what makes me get up in the morning. In fact, it's the best part of waking up.
It wasn't always like that though. There was a time when I was shit fucking broke and there was never any shit to be found. At least, not without any money. But addiction is stronger than that. It doesn't end there. I used to walk up and down the street opening up car doors. I'd rip out car stereo or speakers in the back if they were worth it, and then I'd walk up the street and get my fix. I've had guns pulled on me several times, I've spent nights in jail. My parents have disowned me because I've taken so much of their money. None of my friends trust me, and the ones that still hang around are hooked and could care less about me. It's all about that fix, and the thing is, you know everyone you talk to is just a drug buddy. People you do care about are ruined. You lose friendships that should have been forever because all you care about is your fix. I had dealt with it far too long. My depression was too intense. I've decided to quit.
Last taste I had was this morning, and the withdrawal has been killing me. I know that all it would take to end the suffering is for me to go cop. I know a guy who deals right out of the 7-11 on Edward St in Brisbane. You can get the sutff in all kinds of places during the day, but it's 1:00am. 7-11's open 24/7.
But I'm not going back. I'm not going to take that trip. I'll suffer, and when it's over I'll be free. I've made the first step to end my addiction. The denial is over. Yes, I'm addicted to Caffeine. [/font]
Alright, so my story starts about a year ago. I had been relatively drug-free up until that point, but something around this time had opened up a curiosity in me and I was ready to expiriment. Expirimentation gradually grew into habit. My friends and I had nothing better to do, so we'd score a deal, cut it, get rid of it, and pull in more money to make sure we always had that fix. It was all we thought about, but we didn't realize our bored "nothing-better-to-do" habit was becoming an addiction. Today I cop in large amounts about once a week, and I find myself cooking it up and using all throughout the day. There's a never a moment when I don't have the stuff. I can feel the blackness when I give a new score a taste. It's so refreshing. It's what makes me get up in the morning. In fact, it's the best part of waking up.
It wasn't always like that though. There was a time when I was shit fucking broke and there was never any shit to be found. At least, not without any money. But addiction is stronger than that. It doesn't end there. I used to walk up and down the street opening up car doors. I'd rip out car stereo or speakers in the back if they were worth it, and then I'd walk up the street and get my fix. I've had guns pulled on me several times, I've spent nights in jail. My parents have disowned me because I've taken so much of their money. None of my friends trust me, and the ones that still hang around are hooked and could care less about me. It's all about that fix, and the thing is, you know everyone you talk to is just a drug buddy. People you do care about are ruined. You lose friendships that should have been forever because all you care about is your fix. I had dealt with it far too long. My depression was too intense. I've decided to quit.
Last taste I had was this morning, and the withdrawal has been killing me. I know that all it would take to end the suffering is for me to go cop. I know a guy who deals right out of the 7-11 on Edward St in Brisbane. You can get the sutff in all kinds of places during the day, but it's 1:00am. 7-11's open 24/7.
But I'm not going back. I'm not going to take that trip. I'll suffer, and when it's over I'll be free. I've made the first step to end my addiction. The denial is over. Yes, I'm addicted to Caffeine. [/font]
