When I was first introduced to heroin it was by my boyfriend at the time. We will just call him “Walter.” I wasn’t aware of his drug use prior to moving in, but as time went on I started to catch on, and within weeks I started to uncover what was truly going on behind the scenes. But little did I know, I was about to dive head first into this black hole called “Heroin.” I use the term black hole because that’s exactly what it is. You start by peaking into the unknown, telling yourself at any moment you can stand up and run home. Never do you imagine yourself falling so far down, with nothing to hold on to- no one to call out too for help. You’re just free falling—and then everything goes black.
Ever since I was a little girl my favorite movie has always been Alice in Wonderland. It’s ironic that this experience felt a lot like the plot of my favorite childhood movie. I was just a young girl, curious about the world around me. Curious of that black hole, and once I fell down, I was lost, Just wanting to get home. The first time I tried heroin was out of spite, Out of anger and sadness. I didn’t understand why Walter couldn’t quit. I’ll never forget that night. I was crying and so upset, I locked myself in the bathroom of our apartment (where I found another stash hidden) and told Walter, “If you think this is okay to do to yourself, then you can watch what it does to me.” It sounds so stupid now, I know. But that’s where I was. I was watching someone I cared for throw his life away. And for a second I thought maybe I could change his life. But the only life I changed that night was my own. It took me one time… one small line of brown powder, and I was hooked.
I convinced myself that everything was fine, I mean I wasn’t shooting the stuff up… that’s what the “real addicts do,” right? No. that’s where people are highly mistaken; Just because you don’t have track marks on your arm doesn’t make you any better than the dope head sitting next to you nodding off, with a needle in his vein. I just happen to be a little queasy around needles, so I never went that route. i would say four months in to this addiction I found myself living a double life. I quit answering phone calls, I quit going home to see my parents, I shut myself off from the people I loved most. Because these are the people that can see through me, and I knew if I were to be around them they would know something was wrong. I was ashamed of who I was, I was ashamed of the person I had become. I never went a day without this drug for over a year.
I went through my worst set of withdraws one night and I swear it’s like your own personal hell. I sat in the passenger seat of my car kicking in my dashboard and pleading to God “Please just make all of this go away.” I called numerous rehabs hoping to find one that would take my insurance. But of course they wouldn’t take insurance and I felt hopeless. I felt as if the rest of my life would be dedicated to this drug. I was so angry with myself, I was so angry with God. I felt like he wasn’t listening to me, he wasn’t helping me. I needed him, I needed him to save me because I couldn’t save myself.
Walter and I drove that morning to pick up another sack of heroin. I had been withdrawing for about 14 hours at this point. We got it, opened the bag up and poured some out on my center consul. I remember picking up that dollar bill and feeling the drugs enter my body. I took a huge gulp of blue Gatorade to get the discussing taste out of my mouth and then everything went black.