The first time I ever tried heroin my ex boyfriend lied to me about what it was. I should've known he would pull a move like that, he treated me like a fool our entire relationship. Honestly though, I knew in my gut he was lying, I just didn't want to see it; I didn’t want to know the hell I was going to get myself in. I wanted to play dumb. Because I have always loved drugs. Since the first hit I smoked, the first pill I swallowed, the first line I snorted, all the way to the last point I shot. I never minded living in hell because I never wanted to give up what brought me there. It was comfortable, not always enjoyable, but it became a safe zone. Death didn’t scare me, I welcomed it. I never realized how twisted it was to love something that could kill me, and not give a single fuck if it did. 

It didn’t take instantly. I did it a couple times till my boyfriend at the time went to rehab. Even then I still didn’t realize what I was getting myself into. And my boyfriend never cared to tell me. For someone who went through years of learning about how fucked up drugs were—and I thought I knew it all—I didn’t actually know shit. No one really knows till they’re too deep to stop.  I didn’t touch it for the 3 months he was in rehab. But when he decided to come home, he asked me to pick some up and get him from the airport. Looking back on it, I feel like an idiot for doing that. There was my boyfriend getting off a plane from rehab and I’m picking him up with the drug that put him there. In my mind I just thought if he wanted to stop, he would. I didn’t know the depths of addiction just yet. I don’t have very many regrets when it comes to that relationship, but doing that to him is definitely one. Doing that, is the catalyst to my addiction. 

That led me to months of using. And using led me to a miscarriage. That miscarriage brought out all my insecurities in our relationship. My insecurities led to problems. And problems led to more using. I stopped learning how to solve problems, stopped participating in my life, stopped feeling emotions, stopped caring about anything other than getting high. And my boyfriend was right by my side the entire time because well, misery loves company. He wanted a using buddy, and who better than the naive girlfriend who had the money, the car and the desperation to support our habit. I should've realized how little he cared when he spent my birthday at a concert with another girl. I should’ve realized that its not as easy as i thought it would be to stop snorting dope when he went back to rehab only 3 months after he got back from the first one. But I only saw what I wanted to see, my selective vision.

Him going back to rehab the second time probably saved my life. Not even a month after he left I realized just how bad I was fucking up my life. I had a shit job delivery driving, I was 2 months behind on my rent, I stopped doing anything social because I never had the money. I completely gave up on my education. I was working to spend all the money I made that day on dope and to get enough gas to get me to the plug and back home. So, about a year after I started using I realized I felt like shit and hated myself and hated being alone and hated the people and the places I was surrounding myself with. Less than a month after my 20th birthday, I told my parents I was using heroin and that I needed help and that I needed treatment. And I think that was the biggest shock in their lives. It definitely turned their lives upside down. I was a young, intelligent, beautiful girl from a family that was involved in the community and had core family values from a town that no one would suspect their children to be involved in heavy drugs. I saw how badly I hurt my parents. And I am so blessed to have them because they didn’t skip a beat. Within 2 days my mom had contacts in the community to help us out and my dad was on the phone with so many different rehabs, only the best for his daughter. 

We picked a rehab in California because California is the best place to get sober and complete honesty, my boyfriend was there. I wanted to be close to him again so desperately. That kid had such a hold on me, I didn’t make a decision without thinking about him first. I was in a rehab in California for almost 4 months. I thought I had it in the bag when I decided to come home. Everyone told me not to go back to Indy but I did, because my boyfriend was going to come back home and I couldn’t be without him. Never mind that I didn’t see him once the whole 4 months we were out in California. He actually started dating another chick. Then went to Michigan for a month because he couldn’t stay sober in California and had the nerve to ask me to go with him. The sad part is I actually considered it.

I relapsed the very first night I saw him. I didn’t even think about telling him no either. I just told myself that I knew better than to let it get bad again and that I could control it this time. This time though we had started using the needle. I let him shoot me up because I didn’t know how and once I got a taste for it, that rig became the only way I was going to do drugs again, it became a ritual I was never going to stop doing. I wish I had known then just how much a needle is an entirely different addiction itself. A year later and I still wake up everyday craving a rig more than the drug. 

Three months after I started again and its 2 am, I’m strung out on dope, high off xanax and fighting with my boyfriend in the middle of the road. It got physical, he asked his ex girlfriend to come pick him up and I had so little self confidence that I begged him to stay after I was bleeding because of him. My mom sent me to rehab the next day. This time I moved into a sober living after rehab. I stayed sober for about another 4 months and started drinking and smoking. I bounced around sober livings and halfway houses. By 6 months I was taking dirty chips and using again, needle and all. I was shooting anything and everything that was possible to shoot; coke became a new addiction I picked up. It’s not even like I liked a coke high, I actually hated that I couldn’t sleep and felt wired for 5 hours straight, but the initial rush I got when coke was flowing through my veins felt like my heart was about to stop and I loved it. 

I had no interest in stopping this time. I knew drugs were going to ruin my life and then kill me and I didn’t care whatsoever. I was too caught up in the rush of picking up, the ritual of preparing my drugs, the gratification of drawing up my blood into a needle full of dope, and the high I got pushing it into my veins. Drugs were my life and I was completely fine with it. I was seeing my now ex boyfriend everyday. I was still completely in love with him. Even after all the damage, all the relapses, all the chaos, all the lies and manipulation and stealing and using, I still wanted him to love me. I still wanted him to come back to me, to finally realize that I would love him more than anyone else ever could. Thank god that never happened.

There were several times I had saved his life. One time we were on our way to pick up and he looked at me and said, “If I overdose, don’t save me. Let me die”. Probably an hour later I’m on the phone with 911 dispatch, pulling him out of the car onto his back on the ground and starting cpr. His lips and eyes and ears were blue, he couldn’t talk, he couldn't open his eyes, he was completely unresponsive. I put my hands over his heart and couldn’t feel a beat till I started pumping. I gave him cpr for a couple minutes till the ambulance arrived. I was in complete shock as I’m telling the cops a complete lie about what happened and luckily I knew my ex well enough to say the same story he told. That was the scariest moment of my life. It completely traumatized me. I can still feel his chest voided of a heartbeat. I couldn’t let him use without me for months. I made it my mission to stay by his side because I can honestly say if he ended up overdosing, I was not going to be far behind him. And thank god I did, because he overdosed several times after that incident and I was always there to give him cpr, to hit him with narcan, to make sure he was still alive. I can’t explain the kind of attachment you feel to a person after caring for them and looking after them like that. 

I went on a run for months, spending all my money on drugs. Waking up every day either sick because I didn’t have any or excited because I saved some from the night before and it was the first thing I would do in the morning. My life consisted of waking up to use, spending my entire day figuring out ways to get drugs, and using again before I went to bed. I had run ins with the cops on several occasions where I should’ve been fucked, but somehow got away. I’ve done sketchy things to sketchy people to get high. I’ve stolen from my family and my friends and didn’t think twice about doing it. Every day I was coming up with new ways to get high. I didn’t want to see how damaging it all was to my life, so I ignored it and focused on my ex and on my drugs and pretended to be happy for a long time. 

You can’t understand addiction until you've gone through it. And trust me, you don’t want to understand it. It’s hell. You feel like everyday you are unable to breath until you get high. Drugs become your oxygen. You lose all morals and values. You cross every line you said you would never cross. And you never think about the fact that maybe this sack, is going to kill me. And even if that thought does cross your mind, you stick the needle in your arm anyway. Because deep down, we are all secretly hoping to die. We all think we are stuck, there’s no way out. Because the thought of withdrawals scares you away from stopping. The high is way too enticing. This disease is cunning, baffling and powerful. It wants to keep you hooked, it wants to kill you, it wants to make you suffer in the process. So if you're struggling, and you have an opportunity to get out, even the smallest chance, you take it and run with it. You get the fuck out before it’s too late. Because if you don’t stop, one day it will be too late. And if you need help, there are plenty of people who have been there and are willing to help. 

What happened was, my grandma gave me close to $2,000 for school, not knowing I was using again. And my ex convinced me to keep spending it. I can’t put the blame on him. In the end it was my decision to spend the money. I knew he was lying to me about paying me back, I knew he didn’t give a fuck that I was going to be in serious trouble, and I knew he was playing me to get high. But again, I pushed my gut feelings aside because I also wanted to use that money to get high. I can’t say that I wouldn’t have spent that money without him. But like I said, misery loves company. Everyone wants a using buddy. So I let him play me and I let him lie to me and steal from me. In the end my family found out I spent the money on drugs, my ex went to jail, and I was going to get kicked out of where I was living. So I picked up one last time and got high in the car and drove to my parents house. On my way I got in a car accident. It was completely my fault, I had drugs and needles in the car, my eyes were completely pinned, and there was a cop right behind me who saw the whole thing. My air bag deployed, I hit my head and blacked out for a quick moment and when I realized what I had done, I just knew that I was going to get fucked by the law. I had avoided it throughout my entire addiction and it was just any day now that I wasn’t going to be able to avoid it any longer. The day finally came. I said a quick prayer and called my mom, she said “you’re fucked don’t call me for bail money”, and I went to talk to the man whose car I hit. And by the grace of God, he didn’t have any insurance and had no interest in filing a police report or even involving the cops at all. Somehow, I got away with it and had avoided jail. That was my god shot. That was my higher power telling me that I belonged back in rehab, not jail. My God was giving me another chance. I had no intention to push my luck any further, so I went straight home and agreed to go to rehab. Back to California I went.

I didn’t want to go. But I knew if I stayed in Indianapolis I would be jobless, homeless, helpless and hopeless. So I went. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting coming back to rehab again, but I definitely wasn’t expecting to stay sober. My cravings had never felt so real, my anger was never this prevalent, I wore my resentments on my sleeve and every day I woke up wanting to get high. Some days I woke up wanting to overdose, just end the battle that I didn’t want to fight anymore. I hated myself for putting me in this situation where I needed rehab. Where I was so dependent on fucking heroin, I would give my life for it. I went to bed every night planning my next relapse, dreaming of the day I got out of rehab. I did not want to want to get sober. 

My saving grace was my therapist. I had talked about my family issues and resentments with many therapists but never before had I felt so safe and honest sharing it. Never before had I been honest about my life and history and my feelings. I was finally opening my eyes to a lot of hurt and buried trauma and the truth. The truth was that I was never happy with myself or my life. I let a boy destroy my life for his own selfish satisfaction. I never gave a fuck about my life and I thought heroin was the solution. So I closed my eyes and let him take the wheel, when I knew he was about to drive me off a bridge. 

It took me a really long time to stop blaming myself for the first use. 3 months into my sobriety, I finally looked at the truth of what my ex did to my life. If he had loved me like he said he did, he would have never put me through that, never given it to me, and never used me as bad as he did. I finally realized that I never meant anything to him. I was never going to be good enough and he was never going to love me the way I deserve to be loved. In 3 months of sobriety, my self love finally started to grow. I was learning how to smile again and laugh and be a contributing member to my community again. It didn’t feel good instantly, there was no extravagant God shot, I just finally decided I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. I was tired of sitting in my own misery and praying for an excuse to get high. I was tired of blaming myself and ignoring my anger for my ex, and my resentments towards my family, and my unwillingness to enjoy my life. I put this boy above myself for 3 years. 3 years of my life wasted because of this master manipulator. When he hurt me by getting together with his ex, I used over it. When he wanted to use me to fuck in his car at a gas station, I used over it because I never felt so humiliated before. When he got kicked out and needed a place to stay or a ride, I used during it. 

4 months sober and I still feel like the biggest fool on Earth to have fallen for his bullshit. I’m angry that he had to bring me down with him. I’m hurt that I loved someone so incredibly deeply and that person ruined my life, used me and then threw me away when he was ready to get sober. I think that might be what hurts me the most. For 3 years I waited for the day he was ready to get sober and be the man he was when I first met him. I dreamt of the day we would be sober and be happy together again. I never imagined myself with anyone else. And when I found out he was going to be sober with someone else, I was heartbroken. I was a mess. But thank god I finally saw the truth, that it was never going to happen. I’m learning to love myself, and desert all my feelings for him. And it feels just as freeing as staying off heroin. He was my second biggest addiction. And because he isn't in my life anymore, I’ve never felt more confident about my sobriety. 

I am 4 months sober today, December 20th, 2017. I’m currently on a flight home to visit my family for the holidays and I feel great about my recovery and even better about being able to come home and not be scheming for my dope dealer. In one month, it will be the longest time I have ever gone without any alcohol or drugs. In two months, it will be the longest I have ever gone without heroin. I’ve never felt more confident in myself, yet scared at the same time. This isn't something I want to throw away again. I don’t want to start over. I don’t want to ruin what’s left of my life. I want to build it. I want to grow. I want to prevail. I want to learn who I am. Most importantly, I don’t want to die anymore. 

I’ve started to gain back the trust and support from my family. I’ve created new friendships with people who truly care for my wellbeing. I’ve gotten a job, I’m enrolled in classes. I’m able to buy myself my own car. Which is huge for me because I’ve been financially dependent on my parents for my car and insurance since I was 16 and I can finally take that burden off of their shoulders. My family can feel good knowing I’m safe at night, knowing I want to improve my life, watching me grow. I’ve learned to stop being my harshest critic and start to recognize my accomplishments. I’ve learned to stop talking to myself like my ex used to talk to me. 

This has been the hardest battle I have ever had to fight. Learning to live without heroin when I didn’t want to let it go is an everyday fight. I have using dreams, I wake up with cravings. I have an extremely difficult time watching people use drugs on tv or in movies. Heroin has completely changed my life and will continue to change my life. If you would've asked me 3 years ago where I see myself, a sober living in California with 4 months of sobriety would not have been my answer. I’ve been angry for a while that I’m not graduating with my friends, that I’m 21 and not going out to the bars, that the relationship I was so invested in is ruined, that I was forced to move away from my home because I can’t trust myself to stay away from drugs there. But I’ve come to realize that if not for my ex boyfriend getting me addicted to dope, I would still be stuck as the same miserable, depressed person I was at 18. So I have decided to work on my gratitude, to learn to forgive the person who destroyed my life because it was never a life worth living anyways. Since I was younger I never tried to imagine a real future for myself. Partly because I was scared of change, and partly because I never saw myself living past 25. I was never scared to die, in fact I embraced it. I never didn’t do something due to a fear of death, instead I would throw myself into the fire. Today I try to imagine a future. I try to set goals. I want something to look forward to. I want my life to be worth living. I can’t hold on to my anger or resentments forever or it will take me out. I will do my sobriety different this time around because I want to make sure it’s my last time. I want to become the understanding and forgiving person I believe I was meant to be. There is beauty in everything you just have to find it. 

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If anyone reading this is struggling with addiction, needs to ask for help, or just wants someone to talk to, please reach out. I beg you not to ignore this. I have seen friends overdose too many times to count. I have buried family and friends due to this disease. I have seen it take good people. I would hate for another mother to lose their child. Another friend lose their best friend. Another sibling lose their role model. Even if you don’t care about your life, just remember somebody does. Somebody is going to be heartbroken if they lost you. That’s how I felt about my ex. I would've been devastated if he lost his battle. And I could finally understand exactly how my parents would feel if I lost mine. Knowing that about my family and friends is what kept me going for the longest time. I never wanted to get sober for myself, I did it for my family who loves me. I would just feel like shit if I left my parents to bury their daughter, my brother to lose his sister, and my best friend to lose her maid of honor. Reach out. Change your life today. It’s never too early but one day it will be too late. You are worth saving, and if you can’t believe that just yet, I will believe it for you. Your family will support you because I guarantee you are keeping your mother up at night worrying about you. This could be your opportunity because not only can I help, the entire community of AA will stand behind you, will build you up, will be your support and will help guide you through this battle. But if you’re not ready than that’s fine. Just know that you are not alone, and that when you are ready there will always be someone there to help you.