8 years ago today I woke up in my parent’s bedroom after another relapse.
The night before I took my new ADHD medication, Adderall, and it reminded me of the feeling I got when I used cocaine. So I took some more Adderall, called some friends and went and bought an 8-ball of cocaine.
My mind immediately returned to a state of paranoia as I crept around the house peering out the windows looking for cops. This is how I spent countless nights before I was set free from addiction. I would usually drink a fifth of Malibu Rum and about 6-10 Coronas, snort/smoke about $400 worth of cocaine, smoke a pack of Camels all while looking out windows and peepholes in fear that cops were watching me and about to break in.
It was not what you call fun. I didn’t use or drink to “have a good time” like many do. I used because I didn’t feel normal sober. I used because drugs were my master. I worshiped them, sang songs to them and desired to be with them 24/7.
And on May 23, 2004 I thought my life was over.
I hadn’t used cocaine — my drug of choice — since the prior September (although I relapsed on alcohol and marijuana 2 months prior). So when I used again I heard voices in my head tell me, “See, God gave you 2nd and 3rd chances and you screwed it up. You’re going to die because God is going to teach others a lesson about what happens when you screw up.” Continue reading