elviswearsnikes
Greenlighter
Greetings! I am new to bluelight and I have been lurking for sometime. I would like to share my personal story of addiction, as I have found strength from reading other peoples' experiences on this site.
I believe addiction is a disease and I am indeed an addict. I grew up, and like a lot of teenagers, experiemented with recreational drug use. I first started off smoking some weed, a bit of MDMA, amphetamines and cocaine on the weekend. I was pretty much on par with my friends and other people my age.
When I got to my late teens, I started to notice that my drug use was becoming excessive and having adverse effects on life. I started using on my own, binging and not being able to stop until my money had run out. I was experiementing with more and more drugs, until I found opiates. I took an immediate liking to heroin and soon it became the centre of my existence.
I had a reasonable childhood, my mother was a single parent and did the best she could. I did alright at school and moved away for university. I was working as an emergency nurse, living in a shared flat, perusing my career, hobbies and interests, and enjoying life.
My addiction to heroin continued to grow and I was resorting to crime to fund my habit. Shoplifting, burglary and all kinds of theft. I had never been involved in crime before but I somehow justified my actions. I had strong morals and values before my heroin addiction... Which I enjoyed upstanding but soon I had none.
I would do absolutely anything to stop the awful sickness from consuming me. I'd wake up evey morning sick, and if I was lucky, I'd have some heroin left to help me get out of bed. If not, I'd be in a massive panic knowing that I needed to find some money to score or I was going to be in too much pain and sickness to do anything in a matter of hours.
My whole life consisted of finding money and scoring drugs. Everything became extremely chaotic and soon I was unable to work. My attendance was terrible and I was falling asleep and making mistakes... Thankfully, no one got hurt from my actions however in the end I was asked to leave and, soon after, things went from bad to worse.
I ended up homeless in a matter of weeks and began begging in the streets as my only means of survival. My priority in life (more so than food, shelter, warmth, sex, love) was souly heroin. I didn't care about my appearance or personal hygiene. I was getting arrested, beaten up regularly, shooting up in dirty public toilets, and basically waiting for one last shot of heroin that would finally put me out of my misery.
I was extremely lucky that my family did not disown me, even after I lied and stole from them countless times. My mother enticed me back home with a bribe of some money for dope, and shortly thereafter I got on methadone maintenance treatment.
Since then I have slowly started to piece my life together. I go to the pharmacy everyday to collect my methadone, go to probation, recovery groups, drug testing and therapy. I have had a few relapses since but this is the longest I've gone without doing heroin. My family and one remaining friend are slowly starting to trust me again. I don't blame them.
I am eternally grateful for the people that stood by me, and in that respect I am truly one of the lucky ones. I do not think I would have lasting much longer if it was not for the unconditional love and support from my family. I guess I took things like family and true friendship for granted, but without them I would not have found the strength or need to recover.
I still have cravings and I think about heroin everyday but I desperately want some kind of life back. I'm unemployed, I'm on welfare and broke all of the time. I'm in my late twenties and I'm back living with family. My independence is pretty much gone. I recently got diagnosed with hepatitis C and I am yet to find out if I am suitable for treatment... Which is notoriously lengthy with nasty side-effects.
I've got a lengthy criminal record so I will not be working as a nurse again and it's a struggle to find ANY work with such convictions. I honestly believe I am not a criminal however the power and destructive nature of my addiction lead me to commit crime to fund my habit.
Despite all of this, I try to remain grateful and I pray (I don't know if anyone is listening) each day for the strength to stay on the right path. It would be easy to consume myself with self-pity, shame, guilt and depression, but I know that would lead me back to active addiction.
I don't get out much these days unless it's to collect my methadone, go to a recovery group or if I have an appointment with a key worker or probation officer.
It's still early days for me but I find my strength from being around loved ones and seeking advice and support from others who have had similar experiences with addiction.
I wanted to share my story and hopefully some may relate or find some strength too.
Addiction IS a disease and does not just effect people lacking ordinary discipline and morality. It not only destroys the addicts life, but tears apart families and damage the integrity of our society.
I believe addiction is a disease and I am indeed an addict. I grew up, and like a lot of teenagers, experiemented with recreational drug use. I first started off smoking some weed, a bit of MDMA, amphetamines and cocaine on the weekend. I was pretty much on par with my friends and other people my age.
When I got to my late teens, I started to notice that my drug use was becoming excessive and having adverse effects on life. I started using on my own, binging and not being able to stop until my money had run out. I was experiementing with more and more drugs, until I found opiates. I took an immediate liking to heroin and soon it became the centre of my existence.
I had a reasonable childhood, my mother was a single parent and did the best she could. I did alright at school and moved away for university. I was working as an emergency nurse, living in a shared flat, perusing my career, hobbies and interests, and enjoying life.
My addiction to heroin continued to grow and I was resorting to crime to fund my habit. Shoplifting, burglary and all kinds of theft. I had never been involved in crime before but I somehow justified my actions. I had strong morals and values before my heroin addiction... Which I enjoyed upstanding but soon I had none.
I would do absolutely anything to stop the awful sickness from consuming me. I'd wake up evey morning sick, and if I was lucky, I'd have some heroin left to help me get out of bed. If not, I'd be in a massive panic knowing that I needed to find some money to score or I was going to be in too much pain and sickness to do anything in a matter of hours.
My whole life consisted of finding money and scoring drugs. Everything became extremely chaotic and soon I was unable to work. My attendance was terrible and I was falling asleep and making mistakes... Thankfully, no one got hurt from my actions however in the end I was asked to leave and, soon after, things went from bad to worse.
I ended up homeless in a matter of weeks and began begging in the streets as my only means of survival. My priority in life (more so than food, shelter, warmth, sex, love) was souly heroin. I didn't care about my appearance or personal hygiene. I was getting arrested, beaten up regularly, shooting up in dirty public toilets, and basically waiting for one last shot of heroin that would finally put me out of my misery.
I was extremely lucky that my family did not disown me, even after I lied and stole from them countless times. My mother enticed me back home with a bribe of some money for dope, and shortly thereafter I got on methadone maintenance treatment.
Since then I have slowly started to piece my life together. I go to the pharmacy everyday to collect my methadone, go to probation, recovery groups, drug testing and therapy. I have had a few relapses since but this is the longest I've gone without doing heroin. My family and one remaining friend are slowly starting to trust me again. I don't blame them.
I am eternally grateful for the people that stood by me, and in that respect I am truly one of the lucky ones. I do not think I would have lasting much longer if it was not for the unconditional love and support from my family. I guess I took things like family and true friendship for granted, but without them I would not have found the strength or need to recover.
I still have cravings and I think about heroin everyday but I desperately want some kind of life back. I'm unemployed, I'm on welfare and broke all of the time. I'm in my late twenties and I'm back living with family. My independence is pretty much gone. I recently got diagnosed with hepatitis C and I am yet to find out if I am suitable for treatment... Which is notoriously lengthy with nasty side-effects.
I've got a lengthy criminal record so I will not be working as a nurse again and it's a struggle to find ANY work with such convictions. I honestly believe I am not a criminal however the power and destructive nature of my addiction lead me to commit crime to fund my habit.
Despite all of this, I try to remain grateful and I pray (I don't know if anyone is listening) each day for the strength to stay on the right path. It would be easy to consume myself with self-pity, shame, guilt and depression, but I know that would lead me back to active addiction.
I don't get out much these days unless it's to collect my methadone, go to a recovery group or if I have an appointment with a key worker or probation officer.
It's still early days for me but I find my strength from being around loved ones and seeking advice and support from others who have had similar experiences with addiction.
I wanted to share my story and hopefully some may relate or find some strength too.
Addiction IS a disease and does not just effect people lacking ordinary discipline and morality. It not only destroys the addicts life, but tears apart families and damage the integrity of our society.
