by Chelsy

(Indiana)

It all began when i was 15, & like most teens I thought it was cool to do drugs. My first real boyfriend’s mom snorted cocaine, even with her son, and that’s where I first tried it.

I loved the rush, the feeling of increased energy.

It only got worse from there, at age 17 things ended with my boyfriend and i moved in with another guy and his parents. We got drunk every night. I found out his parents were huge crack heads. I started buying cocaine from them and not too long after, i was learning how to cook coke into crack.

The rush of euphoria and the feelings of greatness when I took a hit were so powerful, i never wanted to stop. I was 17!! smoking crack at 17! Pretty soon i turned 18, and things really got bad.

I received a settlement of $6,000, buying bags of coke every night. Not long after that I met a way older guy, 38 years old, who smoked and sold crack. We hit it off, and i would hang out with him because i knew he would always give me crack and get me high.

I quit my job, moved out of my house and in with him. Not long after that i started shooting heroin to come down from the nasty side effects crack left. I loved it.

I sold my nice stereo for the ten minute crack high, cells phones, even a ps3! Endless fights between me and my boyfriend over his smoking, who gets what hit and just stupid nonsense.

It’s really taken over my life. To this day i stay from motel to motel with a 38 year old man thinking about how I’m gonna get high.

I hate it, i hate every second of it.

But when i wanna quit, i keep going. I’ve almost had strokes from smoking so much. When he gets going, he doesn’t quit. I smoke at least 2 eight balls a day. Then when there’s no money or nothing left to sell, i hate myself for all the stupid stuff i go through to get high.

And here i am away from my boyfriend who’s not answering his phone because he’s too high to answer. These drugs have taken over my thoughts and what i once called life.

Now I’m 18 years old, i ignore all my friends and family just to get high. If i had to stop that would mean cutting out all the drug users in my life. And even more sad, I’ve smoked crack and shot heroin with my own father.

But its nobody’s fault but my own, and every time i chose to load the needle or hit the pipe, i know i take the risk of never living a day again. If only i had the power to quit.