nytepassion

At the age of 9 I started smoking cigs, by 10 I had drank my first bottle of Boones Farm (I think that was the name) Strawberry Hill Wine at 10 I drank my first bottle of and smoked my first joint. I thought the way the weed make me giggle and first feeling of being buzzed by the wine was kind of fun ... (Therein was the problem for me all in one word F U N) I was a kid ... I like to have f u n. So, naturally I added drinking and smoking pot list of fun things to do ... Funny thing about it is ... They became the only things I liked to do (that is unless of course, I found another drug like valium to add to the fun things to do list) Then along comes huffing Bactine from a paper bag. Thank God that just didn't seem like much fun so I didn't do that again. Gave me a headache. Plus it was just too much work for me. I mean you gotta go to the store to get bactine, get a paper bag, spray it in the bag, huff it out and all you get is red blood shot eyes and a headache NO Thank you.

So I just stuck with my weed and booze and my occassional valium for now until I discovered "whites" "crisscrosses" added them to the list too ... along came Black Beauties I didn't really give a crap about em. I just took them when I was out drinking just because someone gave em to me.

Throw in Codiene

I stayed pretty steady using the same drugs until I was introduced to Quaaludes. I feel immediately in love with ludes ... They were awesome and became my funniest thing to do while I was drinking.

Lets slam some codiene (ew, freaky - not sure about that one)

Next came my full on barbiturates addiction with Tuinal (a blue n red capsules AKA Rainbows), Seconal (red capsules AKA Reds) , & Nembutal (yellow capsules AKA Yellows) oh, and the non-barbs ... Placidyl (red and green with the nasty tasting overly strong like cinnamon yucky flavor)

One of my favorite things to do was to take reds, yellow, and Tuies break the seal open em up and mix the powders from each of them together put em back together and eat em that way (of course there was always some extra power left over that would be twisted into a piece of paper towel and swallowed with a glass of wine or a shot of tequila)

Lets try shootin' Tuinal

Then along came cocaine & crank honestly I prefered coke, but if someone had a blast of speed for me to do ... I wouldn't turn it down and lets not leave out my ReD MiRcO dOt AcId, blotter is rmd wasn't around.

Take some speed add in some coke and slam it ...

One of my other favorite things do to was use coke and take ludes together add alcohol and party hardy.

Gotta try Heroin ... snort it, not for me. Don't like sleeping through my high. Loved the inital affect of it though ... where every muscle in my back and body just relaxed if the high stayed like that I would have been hooked for sure, but too much sleeping for me. I thought of it as a waste of a good high

So here now, I've begun to deal cocaine so not only am I living the life of a druggy, but I'm a dealer on top of it. I had tons of friends and lots of dope. I no longer got regular gifts on holidays or birthday ... I would get presents that were either paraphinial or dope ... I got to try and test all kinds of different coke because there was always someone wanting me to switch connections cuz they had the "kind" I worked that to my advantage every time.

Lets shoot coke (that became a thing for a while) even moved someone into my home because she would do me. I couldn't and didn't want to do it myself. So I had her live with me and paid her in dope to hit me at my beckon call.

I have heard alot of people like the ringing in the ears, but not me. I hated it. This one paticular night I went into the bathroom and I looked at the chick, extended my arm and said, "I don't want to hear the ringin in my ears" Well she hit me and I remember freezing for a minute then talking like a robot "get me out of the bathroom" I said in a robot like speaking manner. I didn't hear the ringin sound, but I did hear what sounded like two huge bumble bees one on each side of my ears ... buzzing away ... really loud and I went into my living room, squated down to turn up the stereo to try to drown out the sound and my body jumped from a squating position to a standing up position on its own. I bent down again and it did it again.

I couldn't breath right ... I went into my bedroom to lay down and I couldn't lay still so I got up and I pulled my curtain back and looked out towards the empty field behind my apartment. My heart was beating so fast and hard you could see my tshirt moving in front ... short of like my heart was trying to jump out my chest.

I looked towards the field and there was this girl in a long black flowing gown dancing down a path towards me ... singing "I'm coming to see the new comer" I'm coming to see the new comer" (I remember it like it was yesterday, I will never forget how she sung it) then out in front of her to the right there was this man in a long black robe with long sleeves on it and a hood ... I couldn't see his hands because they he had his arms crossed and his hands were tucked into the sleeves. I could barly see his face ... and to his right and left side was a hooded being in a long black gown awaiting for his instruction. They were standing in a way that I couldn't see their faces and the hood covered their profiles ... off in the distance past the girl that was still singing and dancing slowly and flowingly toward me ... there was light and like an fence the went up towards the sky, but never ended. There was a man climbing the fence and he was dressed in jeans and a tshirt ... all he could think about was how do I get out of here. Then I looked back towards the hooded figure and he spoke to me. Not with his mouth, but it was a thought that was transfered from his mind to mine. He said, "come with me my child" I felt a good feeling from him, he seemed nice and I liked that he had addressed me as his child, but something (not a voice that I could audibly hear) but almost like a voice inside of me ... in my heart or soul said, "If you say yes to him, you will die"

Well now, that pissed me off. I thought what a deceptive piece of @#%$ ... pretending to be all nice to me and he really just was there to take my life. I remember saying at that moment "God, If you let me live I promise I will never stick another needle in my arm to use drugs again" I then looked up at the robed and hooded figure and flipped him off .. saying out loud, @#%$ YOU, I will NOT come with you. and I closed the curtain and walked away ... back into the front room. Note: I do NOT by any means consider this to be a hallucination) I saw what I saw and it was real ... I considered it as an omen, or the devil there to receive my soul. (NO ONE, NOTHING will every convience me otherwise).

Where I told myself that I needed to get ahold of myself and calm my breathing down or I was going to die. I had told others in the house to just leave, to get out, take the dope and leave in case I died they wouldn't be there for the cops to take em to jail.

No one listened they just kept going into the bathroom (it was my two roommates and a friend) they just kept shooting up ... I told my other roommate that I felt wierd and something was wrong ... she was on her way towards the bathroom and she literally groweled at me like a dog and said don't ruin my high.

So I went and sat on the front steps ... I heard voices and saw a pair of brown shoes walk up without someone in them (I realize that to be a halutionation .. it was totally different from what happened earlier) I could reconize it as a hallunition.

I sat out on the porch and fought to breath until who knows when ... I can't tell you what happened after that... I don't know if I went to sleep, passed out or what. I vaguely remember opening my eyes and being on the couch, but I don't know anything else.

I don't remember the next day or how I came out of it all. It is just a blank to me. Something I will never know. A missing piece.

I will say this though ... I kept my promise to God ... I never ever shot up again. However, I contined to use in every other way.

I watched my roommates and friend continue to shoot up ... it made me sick to my stomach. I would literally sit out in the front room just waiting to hear a thud from someone dropping dead in the bathroom ... It was such a sick feeling. I went around and told everyone that slammed about my experience and I begged them all to stop slamming and told them that they didn't want to go where I had been, but no one listened.

Finally one day I happended to see one of my roomies walking around like a zombie with her arms extended outward ... headed towards the other roomies door ... she just moved her wrist to tap out a knock .. the door opened and she went in and got her fix. This sickened me to no end.

Afterwards, I knocked on the door ... went in ... looked at the (chick I had moved in to shoot us up) and told her that I had to go to work, but by the time I got home I wanted her gone or else I would kill her. I said that I didn't want her shooting up people in my home any more and I wanted her out. She knew I meant it and was gone by the time I got home from work.

I was relieved ... but my other roomie still hooked up with her and shot up in the van.

There was another person too that would hit her when he came over to score. I ended up telling him that if he showed up at my door anymore I would kill him too. So he quit coming around. I didn't want to see my roommate die at the hands of a needle. Warped as it was .. I didn't care if she snorted, but the needle had to go.

I became protective over my friend and stood up in for her in an area I knew she was too weak to stand up for herself. I know it didn't eliminate her using via the needle completely, but it got it out of my home and out of my face. So it helped me anyway. Then came the smoking it .. I neverr did like smoking coke .. it made sound become amlified to the point of almost making me nutz so I didn't smoke it, but I cooked it for my roommate and her friends ... I would get paid in dope to cook it ... people would buy dope from me and throw me a half gram or qt to cook it up for them ... I had all the dope an addict could ask for ... and more ...

I snorted and watched others smoke it and watched them when it was all gone .. they would crawl all over the floor looking for crumbs they might have dropped ... it looked like a snake pit of bodys crawling around and over and on each other looking for carpet dope ... made me sick ... I hated it ... I would see them down on the floor for hours and hours ... smoking bread crumbs or anything else that looked like a white rock ... using rum 151 to make the flame to smoke it with and if they ran out of run ... lighter fluid would do, or perfume, or whatever else was flamable ... that drove me nutz too ... I hated the smoking of coke and every thing about it.

I snorted away and began to dispise my life and the people in it. My relationships sucked ... they were all druggies and crazy ... either beat on me or shot at me or what the @#%$ ever crossed the drug crazed mind. So time marched on I was going down the tubes ... I was using so heavily that I couldn't even do a bump without passing out.

Finally I moved and eliminated alot of people from my life, but I still used and still did barbs n coke, drank like a fish ... then Scotty and I got together. Our story picks up where mine leaves off. So you all know the rest.

I've lived drugs to the fullest ... I've lived the lifestyle of an addict/dealer ... I've done recovery and walk in it on a daily basis ( I prefer my life drug free )

I hurt those that loved me when I was active in my addiction ... I have done to my mom what some moms hear are going through with their daughters/sons ... I have been to my oldest child what some kids here are going through with their addicted parent(s) .... I have been to my friends and family what your addict has been to you and your family ... I have done it all and repeated it over and over again .. I know the lifestyle like the back of my hand ... I could do it blindfolded ... I have found recovery and have had done to me what some of you here are experiencing with your loved one who is addicted ... I have tried anything and everything and retried it till I couldn't try it no more I have tried to save my loved one from himself only to lose me and have to find my way back over and over and over again ... I am not God .. I do not have the power to save anyone, but myself ... I am powerless ... but not paralized ... I have walked the path before alot of you here that are seeking answers as to what the hell is going on and how you can help your addict ... I have been down the road as an addict and have been in recovery ... I can help those of you who are using ... you have to be willing .. you have to want it ... I have the experience as do many here ... we can save you alot of pain if you will trust us and listen to wisdom and the voice of experience.

Where ever you are at ... what ever your circumstances ... Change is possible ... it is difficult and hard ... it can hurt, but you can heal ... you can become whole if you are willing and want it bad enough ... It doesn't get handed to you on a silver platter, it won't be wrapped in a cute lil package all neat and tidy ... you will be required to give all that you've got and give up all that you know ... it will take willingness, courage, strength ... there is light at the end of tunnel ... there are people here that can provide you with a flash light and give you directions .. we can tell you the way, but you have to walk the path and do the foot work for yourself.

I have watched friends die from drugs, I have reached down into the pit and tried to pull a friend or loved one out, I have watched them reach back only to have someone else in the pit offer them a just one more time bump, or shot and that one more time was the last time for them ... I have wept because they were so close to getting out of the pit ... I almost could touch their hand, by all I got was a brushing of skin touching and they slipped away and out of my reach ... I have stood at my friends funeral and looked upon his wife as she grieved over his coffin with ... I have heard the words run through my head ... "I'm not hurting anyone" but he never got to see her grieve him to know that he was hurting her and he hurt his stepson and me and all his other friends and family .. he hurt us big time ... he hurt us one LAST TIME with everlasting pain for us. His suffering is over ... We will always remember him.

I have had repeat performances given by different friends on different kinds of drugs ... they always thought they weren't hurting anyone by their using. Funny how when you watch someone grieve you realize how much ******** that statement truly is. When you walk through the pain of loving an addict you know how much ******** that statement is ... they on the other hand have been taken over by addiction and have no @#%$ clue as to who they hurt much less how they hurt us. @#%$ they don't even remember a qt of it anyway.

I have been on both sides of the coin. I have hurt and been hurt ... Now I am here ... I am reaching out to you ... the addict ... you the one that loves an addict ... please if you reach back ... make sure to grab on and hold on for dear life ... don't look back down into the pit ... look up and trust that this is the only way out ... don't let go ... cover your ears and don't listen to the voices of just one more time or just one more chance ... You are here now ... you are alive now ... your addict is alive now ... one more chance might mean his/her life ... one more time might take your life ... take my hand now and don't let go.

I know where peace is, I know where joy is ... I know where freedom is ... follow me ... I can lead you there. We here on this board can lead you there ... care to walk with us?


<!--EZCODE BOLD START-->I am here for a reason ... the reason is YOU<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->,
Passion
In memory of
My Husband whom I tried so desperately to pull from the pit
<!--EZCODE LINK START-->www.scotty-simmons.memory-of.com<!--EZCODE LINK END-->