addiction
The realities of addition; the truth about living under, above and beyond the influence of drugs and alcohol.
5 Minutes
It was my first day off after a crazy Black Friday weekend at work. I was looking forward to sleeping in and engaging in some enjoyable activities and all around just relax. The day started out good, but as with most of my stories, sure didn't end that way.
By Jeffrey Joseph7 years ago in Psyche
Plants vs. Drugs
Autumn was falling again. The leaves were orange-ing and yellow-ing, and they still reminded me of that apartment in Haddonfield, New Jersey. Where all the leaves would clog the drains when the northeastern rains would fall and leave rust like skeleton stains all over the sidewalks. And the air was always cold and damp; the kind that bit at your skin and soul.
By Danielle Dragani7 years ago in Psyche
Unspoken Words
Tonight I gazed upon you and saw utter exhaustion. It may have been the guilt. It hurts me to see you this way. Yet no one can talk to you about it, about financial issues, or even hold conversation about life in general for more than five minutes. It's as though we're boring you. Maybe it's because we're interrupting whatever plans you're contemplating in your head. Most days, when I look at you I see a troubled man. A man that has dug himself in so deep. He doesn't know how to get out. However, he's afraid to admit that he needs help. The right help that is: Mental help. Before all of this exhaustion, I saw a handsome young man. A man with dreams and possibilities. A man that at the same time was afraid to move forward. If I wasn't there to do it for him, he would not budge. I wanted to hold your hand and guide you, but you just wanted me to do it all for you. I don't understand the physics of this way of thinking. The more I tried to push you to do it for yourself, it's as if it's the more you distance yourself. Then the sleep deprivation begins to produce unreal images of thoughts that you think are real. Now it's been so long, there's no way to start fresh—for you at a least. I understand it's a constant fight for you. That your own thoughts must be attacking you. But you are strong. You can do this. You can take the beast by the horns and flip it to the ground. But you must first truly want to win. I noticed you get discouraged easily. I also see how unmotivated you can be. It saddens me. I guess because my motivation comes from being told I can't do something. It comes from the words of others trying to bring me down, from trying to stop me, from trying to prevent me from succeeding my hopes and dreams. It may take me awhile to get where I want to go, but I know it takes time. It takes dedication, sweat, and sometimes even blood to reach those hopes and dreams. However, when those hopes and dreams come easy, we get cocky and greedy. That's when they can easily be taken away. It's almost like karma comes in and reminds us of how easy she can ruin us, or provide for our actions. If you're good to someone, it's returned; if your bad to someone, it's returned. Funny how it works that way. The past few days I wonder whatever happened to you? What in God's name led you down this path? It breaks my heart to know that something, someone once hurt you so bad. That this precious child of God has been corrupted by drugs and who knows what else. Wake up, my love, wake up from this terrible nightmare. Come into the light out of the darkness. Allow me to hold you and tell you I'm here. Allow me to love you and bring you up. Let me encourage you to rise. Let me be your guidance. As I watch you leave and as I hear you say, "I'll be back." I'm left here wondering. I pray for your safety. I pray for your return. I'm here waiting—that's all I can do. Only because I'm trying not to fail you. I know there's only so much I can do. How long before enough is enough. How long before I have to move on? Prayers and request, along with pleads and demands, can only go on for so long.
By Deborah Portillo7 years ago in Psyche
Life of an Addict with Paraplegia (Pt. 8)
I want to write a chapter to try to explain why I'm writing these entries. I don't want to glorify drugs in any way. There were times that I had a lot of fun, while I was using. But, once I was diagnosed as an addict, whether I knew it at the time or not, on the inside I was miserable. I was unable to do what I wanted to do. I had to do whatever the drugs allowed me to do. Let me explain what I mean.
By Fellow Knee7 years ago in Psyche
Life of an Addict (Pt. 7)
Like I said, my parents knew I was into something. I think my dad was a little wiser to what I was actually doing than my mom was. Or maybe my mom just didn't want to admit that her baby boy was a heroin addict. So, my dad asked me what I wanted to do. I had heard about a methadone clinic that was in another state, about an hour and 10 minutes away from where I lived. I made a few calls and found out you had to pay $200 up front, and $11 per day to receive your daily dose of methadone.
By Fellow Knee7 years ago in Psyche
Battle Against Addiction
Substance abuse is a huge issue and has been growing over the years. It is an issue that has been increasing over the year. With huge imports from other countries and ease of access it has made it easy to get a hold of and influence many people. Huge issues that involve this situation are people that are concerned about the money and power (usually someone that is involved in a gang), people find themselves involved with the wrong crowd and get drugged down, growing up around it, and not seeing there is a problem before it is too late. This is a huge issue for me because I have family members that suffer from drug abuse. From an early age, I witnessed it firsthand. My mother was an addict, my father was addict, and my brother was an addict.This topic strikes close to home for me and I am sure I am not alone. It has haunted me for many years and I have never been able to get away from it. The amazing thing is it never affected me.
By Shane Cook7 years ago in Psyche
Life of an Addict (Pt. 6)
I guess I looked at this as graduating. I went from prescription pain pills to what was looked at as the worst drug there was. You never think your gonna end up the way you do, when you're using. I mean, an addict knows what their doing is not right. It's not the smartest thing to be doing either. But, the euphoric feeling you get every time you use, always seems to put those rational thoughts, on the back burner.Young you know, deep down, that what your doing is wrong. I remember telling myself, "this feels to damn good to be bad." Of course when you're sick, or chasing that fix, your mind races, your anxiety goes through the roof and you ask yourself, "why the hell can't I just stop?" But you know, that once you score, no matter what you had to go through to make it happen, it was worth it to you. All those worries and bad mental and physical feelings are going to go right out the window. The thought of how that fix is going to make you feel, keeps you doing whatever it is you do, to experience that feeling every single day. More than once a day if at all possible. Yeah! I had truly became an addict. I’m sure, by the definition of an addict, I had been one for longer than I had admitted. That was one thing with me, I was never one to deny that I had a problem. At least not after I had gotten to the point where my parents knew what I was doing. They always told me that if I ever needed their help, all I had to do was ask. Of course, I didn't believe them at first. What parent doesn’t want to know exactly what’s going on in their kids lives?
By Fellow Knee7 years ago in Psyche
Life Was Such a Blur
For so many years, I would party and do insane things. I was a risk taker, impulsive, didn't care about the consequences of my actions, and never cared who got hurt. I was a delinquent. I had no respect for my parents or any adult authority. I was heading down a path I never knew existed.
By Kay Mellinger7 years ago in Psyche
Life of an Addict (Pt. 5)
"Getting myself into some real bad shit," was definitely an understatement. The trials and tribulations that were to come with the life that I had chosen to live, and the choices that I would choose to make, would be unimaginable to anything I had ever been through up to that point in my life.
By Fellow Knee7 years ago in Psyche
Life of an Addict (Pt. 4)
I'm getting a little ahead of myself. Let me go back to where and when, I decided to take the road to ruin. I was a good child brought up by two wonderful parents. I have a sister who is seven years my senior that I loved to terrorize when I was young. But, we were very close throughout our lives. I made good grades in school and was even put into an honors class in the fifth grade because I tested extremely high in the IQ test I was given at that time. I'm sure I was the last of my peers, anyone would have thought would end up going through the things I have.
By Fellow Knee7 years ago in Psyche
My Life as an Alcoholic: Entry 2
As I mentioned in my previous publication, I plan to release excerpts from the sobriety journal I kept when I was seeking treatment for my debilitating alcoholism just two short years ago in 2016. I'm proudly two years and six months sober and continue to maintain my lifestyle and learn more and more about myself in fascinating and at times mundane ways. Here is entry number two in my journey.
By Henry Sheperd7 years ago in Psyche
