Tag Archives: drugs

Holidays for the Junkies

With New Year approaching (and Christmas recently behind us) people use this time to get together with their families. This can be stressful times for anyone. There are unique struggles that are faced by addicts at this time of year.
If your family doesn’t know that you have a drug habit, you are particularly fucked. See, your addiction doesn’t know to take a break because it is Thanksgiving or Christmas. Most dealers will still meet you (we even had a dealer give us a big plate if Thanksgiving dinner one year because we were living in a hotel with warrants), but you have to figure out an excuse for why you are dipping out in the middle of the family dinner. You may be able to do it unnoticed if you are not living with family or staying with them for the Christmas break. If that is the case, you can cop real quick before you go to dinner. The problem is that while most dealers will still meet you, the pawn shops and whatnot are closed, so getting loot can be difficult.
Generally what most addicts try to do is get enough drugs to last them. You know cop double on Christmas Eve or the day before Thanksgiving. This of course is easier said than done. For one, you have to come up with at least double the money. You need your normal amount for Christmas Eve, plus that amount again for Christmas, and preferably a gate shot for the next morning.
Lack of funds is not the only difficulty that you face. The other issue with having enough shit, is that we are fiends, addicts. Just because theoretically you have enough to last, that doesn’t mean that you will make it last. It reminds me of when we were on Food Stamps or (S.N.A.P. as they call it now). We would receive like $650 a month for our family of four. This is obviously not enough for a family of four for an entire month. So, what Inwould do is go to B.J.’s or Costco when the money went on and spend around $300-$400. Getting all that bulk food made the money go farther. The problem was that my kids would see all of that food and think that would last forever. They would eat too much, too fast. I feel like junkies are sort of the same way when it comes to having a bunch of dope. It is too easy to fall into the trap of, “we have enough, we can do some more.” Before you know it, you only have one shot left for Christmas Day.
If your family is ignorant to your habit, you also need to be careful to not do too much. You don’t want to be ripped as balls at the dinner table, nodding out into the mashed potatoes and shit. Even if they do know, out of respect, you probably don’t want to be too high.nyour family doesn’t want to see that shit.
New Year’s Eve is uniquely challenging in a multitude of ways. For one it is hot as fuck trying to cop on New Year’s Eve. All of the cops that were on vacation for a christmas are back. Also, it the very last day to try to make their quotas for the year. My hubby got locked up early in the morning on December 31, 2012 with 35 pills.
Not having enough drugs for the holidays is the absolute worst thing in the world. I watched an interview with Russell Brand once. He was talking about how as an addict he would frequently have to smuggle heroin on to the plane. When asked why he would take that risk, he explained that it wouldn’t be a vacation with out the drugs, it would be hell. He said, “You could be sitting on the beach in Hawaii, shivering, freezing.” That’s exactly how it is for a person who is in active addiction. Without dope, you are going to be sick and miserable. Besides the fact that you will be struggling and hating life, it is a giveaway to your loved ones.
The flip side of N.Y.E. is if you’re a recovering addict this is rough holiday. Everyone is drinking and/or getting high. You’re being offered drugs constantly. People don’t understand that you can’t just do coke tonight, or E, or whatever. New Years’s Eve can be one of the biggest tests of your sobriety and willpower. Your safest bet is to just stay home, but that isn’t for everyone.
Good like to everyone this New Year’s Eve, and have a wonderful 2015!


The Dangerous Lie Told About Heroin And Heroin Users

First of all, before I start this post, I want to explain why I haven’t posted in awhile. Back in June, the basement apartment that my husband and I rent flooded. We had to have ServePro out, waterproof it, rebuild the walls that ServePro ripped down, tear out the ceiling. We then put in new lighting to replace the old florecent lights. We repainted everything. Last weekend we finished everything. Put together all of the new furniture, painted everything.
Due to the flood, the trip that we had planned to Ocean City had to be postponed. We finally took the kids this weekend and are still there now. Now on to the post.
There are many lies that go around about drugs and drug addicts. These are usually horror stories meant to terrify kids into never trying drugs at all. The problem is that they portray drug addicts as monsters that are not worthy of any compassion or even worthy of being treated like humans. Also, convincing kids (and adults as well) that the propaganda put out in the media by D.A.R.E. is factual information can be incredibly dangerous.
Let me give an example. I can’t even begin to count how many times I have heard that you are addicted to heroin the very first time that you try it. This is of course not even close to being true. I think that I probably had done heroin on and off for almost a year before I started to get ill. I took a break for about a month or so in that time, and was slightly dope sick, but it was so mild that I just thought that my mattress was bad. (I couldn’t sleep and my back was aching. I never associated this to lack of heroin, and I didn’t get high during that period, so I never discovered that dope fixed it.) the reason hat this lie is so dangerous, deadly actually, is that it gives people a false sense that they are stronger than heroin. They do it once, twice, ten times, and they are fine. Hey are not sick, they don’t crave it, they are good. Since they have been told for as long as they can remember that heroin is some sort of Herculian drug put by Satan himself that hooks you after one bump, destroying your life, turning you into a drug addicted daemon, they feel like they are super-human to be able to do it and not get hooked.
Let me be very clear, you will not be addicted after one use. It tricks you. You get comfortable thinking that you are too strong to get hooked. You will though if you keep using. It is not a matter of some people are not able to get physically addicted. It is true that some people have addiction genes and will become addicted faster than others, but it is a drug that causes your body to become physically dependent to it. You need it to function.
Another lie is that people turn into some sort of Manson disciple, a Devil worshiper who will fuck anyone for cash, rob their mother, kill old ladies all for their next fix. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think that there is an addict out there that does not regret things that they have done either while high, or more likely, in order to obtain said drugs. For example, I used to go boosting. I have a extensive criminal record to prove this. As a woman who has been both molested as a very young girl and then raped by my alleged best friend at the age of 16, I was simply not willing to sell my pussy for a high. I have been offered many, many times, but it was just something that I will not do, and I never did. Also, I never used guns ever. Never robbed a bank, held up a gas station or liquor store, never pulled a fun on someone. Actually, I don’t think that I have ever even touched a real gun (you know not a BB gun). Yes, we have a problem, but we don’t loose all traces of our moral compass.
Next lie, we do not leave our children home alone for days on end, left to cook their own dinners at the age of three. My children are almost nine and almost six. Neither of them have EVER been home alone. Also, neither of them can even heat up soup in the microwave let alon cook for themselves. I usually stayed home with them while my husband copped, unless we had a babysitter that we trusted, like my mom or his parents. This is not Breaking Bad. That is not the norm. I know of many addicts who gave custody of their kids to their parents if they knew that they were too addicted to properly care for their kids at that time. Ok, yeah, you can point out that they did not care for their kids themselves, but that is not a good way to look at the situation. It is far better to realize that you have a problem that would prevent you from giving your kids the kind of care that they are entitled to. Most of these parents are still very much involved in the lives of their children’s. They just are aware enough to know that their parents or siblings would care for their kids better at that time.
There seems to be a great deal of misinformation that comes out about recovering addicts. One is the idea that certain rehabs can “cure you” of addiction. This is a concept that is put out there by rehabs. For example, Passages in Malibu, the famed rehab of Lindsey Lohan and other stars. The commercial features the founder of Passages saying, “I used to be an addict, but now I’m not.” No, you are, sorry to break it to you. There is a reason we are called Recovering Addicts. Your brain has been forever changed by drugs. You will never not be an addict. You ca stay clean and sober for the rest of your life, but you will be a clean and sober addict for the rest if your life. It is noxious to make people think that they can spend $30,000 at a particular rehab and bam, be an addict no more. This is detrimental in the same vein as telling people that heroin hooks you after one use. It gives people a false sense of security. If you convince people that you rehab has rectified their “issues”, falsely allows addicts to think that they can get high once or twice without repercussion. Cured of your addiction would mean they the neuro transmitters in your brain have gone back to the way they were before the drugs changed your brain. Unfortunately, your brain never goes back to normal. You cannot be cured. Sorry.
On the flip side, there is far, far too many people who forger treat recovered addicts as though they are about to rob them at any second. I fully appreciate that it takes a little while for a loved one who battled addiction to earn back the trust of their family and friends. The thing is that perception far too often becomes reality. If three years after a person has been sober they are being treated like a criminal, like a “drug addict”, it can often take a person who is struggling with their sobriety and give them an excuse to use again. Basically, if everyone thinks that I am nothing more than a junkie, no matter what I do, I might as well be a junkie. We often give up trying to prove people wrong. Especially if nothing seems to convince them anyway. Especially if they are struggling with severe cravings.
Lies that are told over and over again seem to turn into truths. This is detrimental regardless if it is about addicts or about gender or race stereotypes.

I May Have Tits, But I Have Every Right To Be A Dick

Today, in the year of 2014, I find that society still views women as either the Madonna or the whore. We are classified or boxed in as either Mother Theresa or Kim Kardashian. The problem is that we are neither, or rather, we are both. This paradox is multiplied for female addicts.

in one aspect, women who are hard drug users are almost immediately classified as whores. I do not mean like, “Oh, she’s such a whore” either. I mean that the easiest and thus normal assumption is that we are actual whores, that we obviously suck dick to obtain our drug money. I’m not going to tell you that this doesn’t happen, it does. That doesn’t mean that every woman who sticks a needle in her arm or smokes crack is a prostitute. There are a good deal of men who actively participate in gay sex for hire to procure their drug of choice, it is just not the automatic assumption.

Ironically, though, it tends to only be when a woman gets to the point where you can look at her and tell that she is an addict that women get classified as “the whore”. I’m talking pock marked skin and meth mouth. Stringy hair and bones protruding. Otherwise, we are innocent angles that people are shocked to learn that we do such things.

I cannot tell you how many times, when upon hearing about my past, people have said to me, “I had no idea. You seem like such a nice lady, a good mother.” That’s entirely the issue. I AM a nice lady. I AM a good mother. I just also happen to suffer from the disease of addiction. 

As a woman, when I was in active addiction, I used this paradigm to my advantage. I would dress nice and sweet, with my makeup and hair done, wearing expensive clothes and purses to go boosting. The point was to play up the Madonna aspect in order to be over looked in the stores. It is simple pragmatism. Play up to people’s small minded, boxed in views of women in order to obtain what you need without arising suspicion.

Similarly, on the occasion that I was caught I would then play the weak female in order to get off with a warning. This works far better than one could imagine. Especially, if the security guard or cop is a man. They all want to save you. I even had a cop who did arrest me try to set me up with one of his cop friends to help me turn my life around. Yeah, buddy, after I get release on PR’d or bailed out I’ll be sure to hit you up. Right.

Women always try to use their innocent feminine ways in court as well. Cry for the judge they tell you. Talk about how sorry you are and that you are ready to be a good girl now. Particularly if you are a mother. Although in all fairness, that is probably true. 

On the other end of the spectrum is the whore. Women who stand out on the street often play up their overt sexuality in order to make it known which end they stand on. Funnily enough, I knew a few women who worked as strippers to support their habits. They played up the innocent while taking off their clothes. These girls looked young. You know the bodies of pre-pubescent girls. Actually, now that I think of it, one of the most successful prostitutes that I knew looked old in her face, but from a distance looked twelve. All of theses girls played upon (or preyed upon?) men with pedophile urges. See, we may play dumb if it suits us, but we are far smarter and far more calculated than we let on. 

The right thing to do might be to fight against these stereotypes and declare that we are far more complex than either the Madonna or the whore. As addicts, however, we are more interested in a means to an end. If we can get we want, or more accurately what we need, by letting the world box us into a cheap, outdated stereotypes, then so be it. It’s not right, but neither is people thinking that women are that simple, so fuck it. When you are ill and need to get well, sexual politics is the last thing on your mind.

Bodymore, Murderland: Home Sweet Home

I have to write a little bit about my hometown, Baltimore, Maryland.

Ok, I am actually from a town twenty minutes south of Baltimore. Once my addiction started, my husband and I lived in Baltimore. For those familiar, the Edmoson Village area, and Franklintown area. Yes, the areas from “The Wire”. It is violent, and full of drugs, but there are great things about Baltimore.

For people not familiar with the are, the town that I grew up in is about equal distances from Baltimore and Washington D.C. If you know anything about the two towns, you know that while they are not too far apart geographically, they are worlds apart. Baltimore people tend to hate D.C., and vise versa. They are rivals. I never copped in D.C. My husband has always been apart of a D.C. Union, but when he would get off work, we got our drugs in Baltimore! not D.C., even when we didn’t live in Baltimore.

People tend to want to reference the high murder rate. In 2012, we had 218 murders. That doesn’t sound too bad, until you realize that we have just over 620,000 people. It is said that if we had the population of New York, we would have 4,000 murders a year. Yes, I have had friends murdered.

Yes, there are open air drug markets all over the place. They put the 24/7 police cameras all over the place, but the dealers just move. I moved to Tennessee for like a week, and drove to Knoxville to cop because my hubby and I were so ill, and I was shocked at how scared everyone was. Here I was this blonde haired, white chick from Maryland going up to people in the projects asking for dope. Disappointingly they really only had crack. If you know about being dope sick, you know that if you are deathly sick for dope, you REALLY don’t want crack. We left and drove the 8 hour trip back to Baltimore and got well at 3 am.

I had never been so happy to cross the Baltimore County/ Baltimore City line! I was so shocked at how scared everyone was in Knoxville. I was so happy to be back where they stand on the corner, everywhere.

Recently, I read an article written by a woman in Federal Hill (a richer area of the city) about how she was sick of the crime. It spang from a woman who was killed in that neighborhood by a teenager. The boy had burglarized her home previously. It was tragic, but her response was, and I quote that “we should lock THEM up for trespassing and open containers, so THEY will take that shit back to where THEY come from”. Basically, as long as the murders stay out of the rich, white areas, it is fine. She didn’t care about the rash of gang killing that happened daily over the summer. They didn’t happen in her part of town.

First of all, I have been in Baltimore City Central Booking, or as call it, Hell on Earth. The cells that say single cell will have 15 or more people in them. You can’t move. it is inhumane. Back in 2010, they tried the “lock up everyone” tactic. It didn’t work. The courts have too many cases as it is. All the trespassing, open container, needle, etc. charges never even made it to court because they couldn’t. The extremely crooked ass cops already lie and put charges on people. (You only hear about cooked cops in Baltimore on the news weekly.) You start trying to throw people in jail for petty shit, bookings has to be taken over by the Feds again because of it being so inhumane. But you know, out of sight, out of mind.

Secondly, there may be violence, but there is community like I have never seen. One time my husband was waiting for me to pick him up in a really rich part of Montgomery County (Rockville for those familiar) and his phone was dead. He had to ask like 10 people before someone would let him use their phone. This was 2012, and everyone is saying that they don’t have a phone. Right. By contrast, in the ghetto-ist parts of Baltimore, you might have to ask two people, and honestly that’s only because the first person may have really not had a phone. I have been about to run out of gas, and had no problem getting a little money to get home. People who know what it is like to be down on their luck will help out others if they can. I used to walk around alone or with my children, and the majority of people were always so nice.

Summertime in the city is always so fun. Everyone is outside on their steps or front porch drinking, smoking weed, listening to music, playing dice, or whatever. There is always something to do. I loved it.

Baltimore is a lot like a recovering addict, you can’t just look at the bad. You can’t judge the city just on the murders, the corrupt cops, or the prison corruption scandal. (In case you hadn’t heard 30 people were indicted, both inmates and COs, for bringing in drugs and cell phones. The Black Guerilla Family was running the jails. A head man in the gang even impregnated three different COs. While he was an inmate!) if you do, you are dismissing a great city. We have more good things to offer than The Ravens, Orioles, and crabs. If you give it a chance, you might love it as much as I do.


Warts and all, I own my regrets
Warts and all, I own my regrets

One of my favorite songs, on one of my favorite albums, is “Regrets” by Jay-Z. He states, “this the number one rule for your set/ In order to survive/ You gotta learn to live with regrets”. Don’t I know it HOV.

Sadly, or perhaps more accurately too common to be sad, my regrets start well before my addiction. Everyone has regrets. Addicts have mountains of regrets that can define you if you are not careful. “You gotta learn to live with regrets”

I regret letting my cousin molest me as a child. She wasn’t much older than me, but she was bigger. After the first time, I should have said something but I didn’t. I let it continue. Ok, in my defense I was 5. I regret that I didn’t tell my mother until I was 26. I let that define my views of sexuality, and yeah, I’ve been kind of fucked ever since.

I regret that the first person that I opened up to about the molesting, the first male that I got close to since I watched my father die was a total douchebag. I regret that I trusted him to sleep in my room that night. I regret that I past out only to wake up with him on top of me raping me. I remember the most sickening thing was that when I was trying to squirm out from under him, he kept telling me how good it felt when I “moved my hips”. Asshole. He told me my boyfriend would probably dump me because I was a whore.

My boyfriend didn’t dump me, he was actually the only person close to me who stood by me. My mother didn’t she still baked cakes for the asshole. She told me not to go to the police. Although, in her defense, I never should have gone to the police. All the did was make it feel like it was my fault. Thus started my hatred of police, but that’s off topic.

I regret that I just assumed my boyfriend wasn’t mad at me, knowing what kind of person he was. He never said it, but his alcoholism turned way worse, as did his verbal abuse.

I regret that I stayed with said boyfriend for 3 years. This changed the entire outcome of my life. I was accepted into to NYU. That was my dream. To study music business at NYU and work for a record label. I had a 4.3 GPA in high school 1475 SATs. Did I go to NYU? “Gotta learn to live with regrets”.

I went to University of Maryland College Park. It is a great school, and I was on the honors program on an almost full scholarship. But they don’t have music business, but I didn’t want to leave my boyfriend so, I figured I would become an elementary school English teacher.

This is oddly one of my biggest regrets and one of my biggest blessings. The year that I lived on campus, I started to learn that he was an asshole! and  didn’t need him. I was to weak to do anything yet, but the seed was planted.

I was so depressed the second semester that I failed all but one class (English). Since the dean saw how good my grades had been first semester and since I had a note from my shrink explaining how I had PTSD, anxiety, ADD, and depression, he excused all my failing grades and took them off my transcript. But me and College Park were over.

I regret so much that I didn’t stay at that school. My life would be so different. Although you can not touch the butterfly and only change the bad, I would loose all the good too.

I finally broke up with rage-aholic, alcoholic man. I decided to work full time at a preschool and take classes full time at the local community college. I had gotten almost a full scholarship at Maryland so I was allowed to cash out my college savings. I was single, 19, I had a brand new car, and $25,000 in the bank. Here comes fun.

Here is where the drugs start. Remember, I was working full time too, so I had money. Neiman Marcus every week, sushi lunches everydya, and coke on the weekends.

Here comes turning point. One night after snorting coke all night, the new guy I was seeing offered me some dope (heroin) to come down on. I was hesitant, but the coke was gone, so, fuck it.

Biggest regret of my life. I started with almost all coke with a couple dimes of dope to come down, before you know, it is mostly dope with a little coke.

That boyfriend got locked up on a bunch of violation of probation warrants. One had no bail attached, so he was sitting. His brother in law, Aaron, called me for a ride in town. I told him my boyfriend was locked up, but ok, I would pick him up.

At first it was once or twice a week, then I am picking him up daily. After about two months of this, we finally slept together one drunken night. That was all she wrote. A few weeks later he told me that he loved me, and over 10 years later we are still together. Except we are both clean.

I should have been smart enough to know what was going to happen. Shooting dope everyday for months, come on! Actually I had gone through minor withdraws when my last boyfriend got arrested on the warrants. But they were so slight that I just thought that I was a little sick. I figured it out later. I would wake up throwing up, but I assumed that I was hung over or it was food  or something.

By now the money was long gone. I was 20, I already had one arrest and was stealing all day, everyday. I was racking up theft and possession charges. Then Aaron and I started hanging out with a guy that I had known from elementary through high school, but hadn’t seen since. Straight crazy motherfucker. We got him stealing too. Now my habit is up to $1100 a day on coke and dope. I had four warrants, my husband had three, the friend had some, so we were living in hotels. That of course didn’t last forever and in December of 2006, we all went down. Seperatley. One of my warrants, a failure to appear on an assault charge, had be assigned no bail, I had to sit in jail until I could see that judge, and it was December 22. I spent the next three weeks in jail including Christmas and New Year.

While going to jail and visiting my daughter in half hour increments through glass should be a huge regret, it isn’t. I got my shit together. I quit drugs in jail (fun let me tell you). I got a job. I did the single mom thing, while Aaron did a year in prison, driving an hour each way twice a week to take my daughter Ariel to see he dad.

We did great, but I regret the shame that I felt about being an addict. Aaron had knee surgery while I was pregnant with Aidan. With surgery came pain pills. soon he was back on dope, but I was clean.

I regret not being strong enough to continue to stay clean while he struggled to get sober. We fought endlessly, I understood why he fucked up, it is easy to do, but I was mad. I regret not refusing to let his dickhead “friend” who continually brought it to him, in the house. I regret that I didn’t ask for help.

i stayed clean all through the pregnancy (his surgery was when I was like 7 months) and for a few months after. I regret that I lacked the streghtn to stay clean. I really knew better. I knew how this story was going to end.

By 2011, Aaron was back in jail, and I was taking care of kids alone. This time it was two. This time I joinee a methadone program. I was not going to be getting high when he came home, or he would star using again, and we would both be down the rabbit hole.

I don’t regrett he fact that a lot of people say you aren’t clean if you are on methadone or suboxone. Are you not clean if you have a prescription for pain meds? A doctor writes my script. I have been clean long enough now that I only go once a week. It is legal. I don’t have to hustle to get money for it.

i live with my regrets, because I would not be me if not for them. If I had gone to NYU, I would not have necessarily had a drug problem, but I might still have, I had done most other drugs except heroin during high school, but I wouldn’t be me.

I wouldn’t have met my husband, my soul mate, the love of my life. We have been through hell and back together and we are still united. Most couples would have split or turned against one another if faced with the adversity md obsticles that we faced, but not us.

I don’t regret dropping out of Maryland, because that is when I got together with Aaron. With him, I made my reasons to live, my two children. They are everything.

Lastly, I don’t regret the drugs, the jail, or any of it all that much because it made me who I am. I  look past peoples pasts, their covers, to see why they act that way. I am compassionate (honestly I was always a bleeding heart liberal, but now I really am). Jigga man told me “You used to hold me/ told me that I was the best/ Anything in this world I want/ I could possess/ All that made want is all that I could get/ In order to survive/ Gotta learn to live with regrets”.

Forgiveness (and family)

I just posted my first blog post earlier today. I am feeling overly ambitious this morning (and I have given up on sleep as I have been up since four am) so I am going to post another. The topics forgivenesses.

I stated that one of my fundamental reasons for this blog was to help me stay sober, to keep myself accountable for my actions. Accountability is something that I find addicts have a hard time with. It is so easy to blame all of our past transgressions on addiction. That being said though, where is the line? Certainly, most of the “sins” that we committed during active addiction was a direct result of our addiction. So, how much of the blame do we take? How much of the blame goes to heroin?

Many heroin addicts want to sort of suggest that heroin takes away your free will. This is not really true. You DO need it to survive, but you can set lines that you won’t cross. Example: for me that line was prostitution. I was molested by a cousin as a child. I was raped in the middle of the night by my “best friend” (which for some reason some the people who should have been the closest to me didn’t seem to believe me and continued to be friends with the monster). I had been sexually exploited too much. I also became a huge feminist (thank you Courtney Love for making me realize that feminism is cool). I WAS NOT going to sell my body.

I have been offered. Men would ask to “rent” me from my husband. No way. People say whatever you say that you won’t do for dope is exactly what you will do. No. I promised myself that I wouldn’t whore myself out, and I never did.

I will say that probably 90 – 95% of all the female addicts that I know have whored themselves out. Either they worked as prostitutes or they did every on e in a while to get well. You know sex in exchange for drugs. In a side note, I can not tell you how many girls (both in Central Bookings and in CAP or Center for Addiction and Pregnancy) had told stories about how their man/pimp would make them go out and fuck some john, cop the dope, let HIM get well, then have to go back out to get themselves well. Fuck that!

My point is, I DID have free will. To an extent. I could put my foot down and say, “I will not whore myself out”, but I had to get well somehow. Here comes in my 9 theft convictions. We (my hubby and I, along with others) would boost or steal from stores, and sell the items to a pawn shop. This whole shit got shut down in 2009 when the FBI did a massive raid an shut down 15 pawn shops and buy, sell, trade shops for illegally buying and reselling stolen pharmaceuticals. When that got shut down we moved to new items.

I have pawned many, many of my things. Somethings I got back, others I didn’t. I also stole from people I know. It was rare that I would do that, and I had to be really, really desperate, but it happened. This is what I have had such a hard time forgiving myself for.

Especially one part of my extended family that I hurt. They took me and my sister into their home the night my father died from lung cancer. They treated us both like we were their kids/ sisters. I didn’t take very much money from them at all. Not even close to what I spent in a day, just enough for a “gate shot”, but the fact that I could hurt them haunted me for years. It kept me up at night.

Finally after YEARS of hating myself. I forgave me. I don’t blame it on the drugs. I would not have done it if it were not for dope, but still, I did it. It was a hard thing to admit to myself. I let the drugs take control. I let them act through me. It was hard, but I eventually have learned that I am not a bad person, I just did a bad thing.

For years, I have apologized to these very Catholic people. I have given up. Obviously they don’t have to forgive me. God forgives me, and I forgive me.  I can not stay up at night hating myself anymore. I miss their friendship. I will say that one person in that family forgave me and I am eternally grateful to her. I want to be close with all of them again, but I can not, I will not risk my sobriety stressing about people who will not forgive. I hurt them, I understand. I think that they have hurt me far more by not inviting me to weddings, baby showers, cookouts, birthdays, everything. I basically don’t exist. I wish they could understand that no one chooses to be an addict.


This is me, my husband, Aaron, my daughter, Ariel, and my so, Aidan. Yes we are HUGE Ravens fans
This is me, my husband, Aaron, my daughter, Ariel, and my son, Aidan. Yes we are HUGE Ravens fans

Before I write anything, I should explain who I am and why I am doing this. I am Amy and I am a heroin addict. I am currently sober (with the help of methadone) for almost 2 years. I am a 29 year old, depressive, married, mother of two. I am starting this blog for two primary reasons. One is purely selfish. I was clean previously for almost three years. I got clean off of heroin and crack/cocaine when I was locked up on 4 warrants, one of which was a no bail warrant and spend Christmas and New Years in jail.

I had to see my daughter twice a week, through glass, on half hour visits when my mother brought her to the detention center. I would go back to my dorm and cry like a baby. When I finally got out, my daughter cried when my mom gave her to me. She had to get used to her own mother! You don’t know heartbreak until your one year old rejects you. She of course got back to being a Mommy’s girl, but it was awful.

My husband, Aaron (Ariel’s father) was also locked up at the time. He didn’t come home as fast as I did. He server two one year and a day sentences ran concurrent. I was a single mother. I got a waitressing job, took care of my child, and held down my man. I stayed sober too.

Aaron was released in July of 2007. We were both sober and happy. We started trying for another baby. Soon I found out that I was pregnant! I was sober my entire pregnancy this time. (I had to do an inpatient rehab called Center for Addiction and Prefnancy with my first pregnancy). Aidan was born happy and healthy.

Problem was I was ashamed to be an addict, even a sober one. I wouldn’t admit my dark past to ANYONE. I was so embarrassed. Especially coming from my family. My sister and I are definitely the black sheep. The shame of it, the refusing to speak about it, wouldn’t let me ask for help when I relapsed. Had I spoken up when I first relapsed, I would have saved myself  two and half years of heroin addiction. Hey, I never got back on coke, so yeah for that!

So that is my first, primary reason for this blog. This time, I am not scared. I am not ashamed. I am Amy. I am a heroin addict. I have lived more in my 29 years than most people ever will. I am slowly but surely forgiving myself. You know what I am not proud of everything that I did as an addict, but I am proud of who I turned out to be when I cam out the other side of the rabbit hole. If you can’t accept my past then FUCK YOU!!!

I am hoping that by not being afraid of admiting my addiction, I will maintain sobriety.

My other reason for writing is to give a little hope to anyone struggling with addiction. You CAN come out the other side! I had an $1100 a day habit. I have the scars (physical and emotional) to prove it, but I survived. You can too. Don’t be embarrassed. Don’t be ashamed because recovering addicts are some of the most knowledgable, compassionate, resourceful people in the world!