__________________ ____________________  

The Day In the Life of A Drug Addict


I awoke to the smell of an old house, the lights were off
and the house was cold and damp. Doug was nudging me saying
"Wake-up! I got us a wake-up . . . get out of bed!" He was
wide awake and holding a sixteenth of cocaine in his hand.
My stomach started churring as I got up and ran to the
restroom. He had woken me up many days like this but today
Doug really had the dope. He enjoyed waking me up and
making me think he had some cocaine, but most days he did

After I threw up, I washed my face leaving the water
running, and searched for the needles hidden under the
cabinet. I gave Doug the spoon and I tried to pull thirty
units of water into the syringe. Doug hit me on the side of
my head and said "Your shaking too much, let me do that." I
pulled away from the faucet and let the syringe fall into
the sink. Then I rolled up the shirt sleeve on my right
arm. I looked at my arm. I had tracks, needle marks, up and
down my arm. My shirt sleeve had blood stains on it from
the day before. I held out my arm and demanded "I get the
first one and I want coke not watered down coke!" Doug
pulled my arm close to him and inserted the needle in my
arm. As I was shaking, he told me "Make this last for a
while girl." I felt the dope hit me and ran out of the
restroom. I was shaking and could not get my breath. I
enjoyed this feeling although I knew it was not going to
last. I could hear every sound outside and inside the
house. My heart beat grew faster and I felt the rush going
away. I wanted another fix. Doug had just got finished
doing himself. 

I grew scared and felt like Doug was going to do most of
the cocaine. I did not want to feel the down side of this
high just yet although I knew it was coming very soon. Five
minutes later I fixed myself another shot of cocaine and
handed it to Doug. He was shaking and could not focus on
what I wanted him to do. I cried out to God asking for him
to "Help me." Then Doug came to some sense, he pulled my
arm close to him and gave me my shot of cocaine in the same
place he had done it earlier. I felt the rush and hit the
floor. All my senses were focused on the feeling I was
getting from the shot of cocaine I had just received. My
heart was beating fast and my mind was listening to the
loud sounds around me. Then the more frightened I grew, I
knew someone was out to get me. I stayed afraid. I just
knew I was going get killed or I was going to jail. I felt
the impulse to watch the street outside the old ran down
house. I stared out the window shade and thought of how I
was going to make enough money get some more cocaine that
day. Doug yelled "If you want more of this you best get in
here!" I went back into the bathroom and did the last shot
of cocaine we had. Doug stared getting mad "You do too much
of this shit!" He was coming down and was feeling the down
side of his high. "How in the hell are we going to get more
today?" "I let Brandy use your car and she gave me this
shit!" " It was not even very good! Huh?" Doug was mad.
Doug always watered down the last shot of cocaine he made
for me. He also enjoyed making me feel like I had done it
all. I could only think of one thing. How was I going to
stay high today. I hoped someone would come by to share
their cocaine with us. I knew if they did not the day was
off to a bad start. Once I had gotten high, I was no good.
I was afraid and did not want to come down. 

This day was like many other days. I did what I had to do.
I did not think of anything but staying high on the
cocaine. I picked up my bible and prayed "God if your out
there? Help Me! I want to live and not remain in this
hell." The day dragged on in the same fashion. Doing more
cocaine and never having enough.
This all happened about three years ago, when I was in the
middle of my drug addiction. This day, like many others,
was spent with my boyfriend Doug. I have been clean two
years now. I thank the Lord above for changing my life and
taking away the control the drugs have over my life. I look
back today thinking how could anyone live this type of



Quotes: Search by Author