joonya77
Bluelighter
Here's my story. Not all that exciting or original (very few stories of drug addiction are. Let's face it, after a certain point, we're all just peas in a pod.)
My wife and I are drug addicts. We have been for quite some time. Our story starts in mid-2006 after having been together for 3 years or so. She had a co-worker friend with whom she enjoyed sharing a certain, ahem, physical attribute of mine with on the weekends that we didn't have my son. This coworker friend has a certain fondness for the Peruvian Marching Powder. So in order to fit in, and let's face it because we flat out wanted to, we started getting into the coke. It lasted as a just on the weekends thing for about two months before rapidly progressing to everyday use. Once I found out that my upstairs neighbor sold it, all bets were off. Everyday was spent either working and staring at the clock waiting to get home to get some blow, or hustling up money to get it. This lasted until the middle of 2008 when I said enough. I stopped doing it. My wife continued, but it didn't bother me too much, I hated who I was when I did it anyways. Always more more more. Blowing my nose just to stuff more shit up it. Wanting to fuck, but getting 'turtle tool' from doing too much.
The way I stopped was by drinking heavily. Just pound beers, 2 1/2 to 3 microbrews an hour until I passed out. I work construction and those years were the recession years so I didn't have work everyday. If I didn't have work, I'd start drinking at 11am, pass out at 2pm, wake up at 530pm, walk to the liquor store down the road, and start it all over again. Not the best way to quit doing coke, but I didn't do it again. Yay for me.
One Sunday afternoon, October 2009, we were at my brother-in-laws house. He asked me for a ride to score some H. Of course I was shitfaced because it was 3pm, and I was always shitfaced at 3pm in those days. So I said sure. In my infinite wisdom I asked him the price of a bag. His answer sounded reasonable to me. I said "Get me 2." And off we went.
It was supposed to be that one day. My wife came home from work the next day, and had made a side stop at her brother's dealers place. And the same thing the next day. And the next day. And here we are, almost 5 years later still on the dope train.
I want to stop. I can't be around it though. We have just reconciled and moved back i together after a 7 month separation. I have a suboxone hookup. We have pawned or sold everything we've owned, borrowed tens of thousands of dollars from various friends and family (our names and word were good currency until very recently). While we were separated I connected with an old dealer of ours who gave me a credit line of $7000. "You're gonna give me dope, and I don't have to pay you now? I guess so." On the days where we have no money and no prospects, I say "Let's take our subs." She gets pissed at me, says "You don't do enough to help get the shit, fuck you, if you want to you do that." And she somehow manages to raise the funds to get a fix. It's amazing actually.
I know myself well enough to know I can't be in the same room as dope and not do it. I'm not that strong. I never have been. But we have to get off the bus and get our shit together. It's only a matter of time before we go down. My mother confronted me the other day, saying a member of a drug task force had seen my plate in a known shady area, and he thought I might have a problem. I feel like the walls are closing in on us, and I'm the only one who sees it, or wants to do anything about it.
Does anyone have any similar stories/situations/solutions they could share? I guess it'll be like pornography...I won't be able to explain what I'm looking for, but I'll know it when I see it. Thanks in advance folks.
My wife and I are drug addicts. We have been for quite some time. Our story starts in mid-2006 after having been together for 3 years or so. She had a co-worker friend with whom she enjoyed sharing a certain, ahem, physical attribute of mine with on the weekends that we didn't have my son. This coworker friend has a certain fondness for the Peruvian Marching Powder. So in order to fit in, and let's face it because we flat out wanted to, we started getting into the coke. It lasted as a just on the weekends thing for about two months before rapidly progressing to everyday use. Once I found out that my upstairs neighbor sold it, all bets were off. Everyday was spent either working and staring at the clock waiting to get home to get some blow, or hustling up money to get it. This lasted until the middle of 2008 when I said enough. I stopped doing it. My wife continued, but it didn't bother me too much, I hated who I was when I did it anyways. Always more more more. Blowing my nose just to stuff more shit up it. Wanting to fuck, but getting 'turtle tool' from doing too much.
The way I stopped was by drinking heavily. Just pound beers, 2 1/2 to 3 microbrews an hour until I passed out. I work construction and those years were the recession years so I didn't have work everyday. If I didn't have work, I'd start drinking at 11am, pass out at 2pm, wake up at 530pm, walk to the liquor store down the road, and start it all over again. Not the best way to quit doing coke, but I didn't do it again. Yay for me.
One Sunday afternoon, October 2009, we were at my brother-in-laws house. He asked me for a ride to score some H. Of course I was shitfaced because it was 3pm, and I was always shitfaced at 3pm in those days. So I said sure. In my infinite wisdom I asked him the price of a bag. His answer sounded reasonable to me. I said "Get me 2." And off we went.
It was supposed to be that one day. My wife came home from work the next day, and had made a side stop at her brother's dealers place. And the same thing the next day. And the next day. And here we are, almost 5 years later still on the dope train.
I want to stop. I can't be around it though. We have just reconciled and moved back i together after a 7 month separation. I have a suboxone hookup. We have pawned or sold everything we've owned, borrowed tens of thousands of dollars from various friends and family (our names and word were good currency until very recently). While we were separated I connected with an old dealer of ours who gave me a credit line of $7000. "You're gonna give me dope, and I don't have to pay you now? I guess so." On the days where we have no money and no prospects, I say "Let's take our subs." She gets pissed at me, says "You don't do enough to help get the shit, fuck you, if you want to you do that." And she somehow manages to raise the funds to get a fix. It's amazing actually.
I know myself well enough to know I can't be in the same room as dope and not do it. I'm not that strong. I never have been. But we have to get off the bus and get our shit together. It's only a matter of time before we go down. My mother confronted me the other day, saying a member of a drug task force had seen my plate in a known shady area, and he thought I might have a problem. I feel like the walls are closing in on us, and I'm the only one who sees it, or wants to do anything about it.
Does anyone have any similar stories/situations/solutions they could share? I guess it'll be like pornography...I won't be able to explain what I'm looking for, but I'll know it when I see it. Thanks in advance folks.
