heroin was my best friend

Tomorrow, I will be 3 years sober. Even though my addiction to intravenous heroin was definitely the most problematic, it has always been something with me. It started off with Xanax and K-pins, then to that mixture I added adderall, vicodin and valium and lorezepam, then as I began to experiment with drugs I realized that anti depressants/anti anxiety medication wasn’t my favorite anymore. I started my opiate addiction with 5mg percs, then I began snorting them and upped my dose little by little. Then I went to college and began smoking 30′s and popping xanax and adderall on the regular. Then I revisited an old friend of mine, heroin. I had tried it in high school a few times, and it gave me such a good feeling I was afraid to use it again. I had only snorted it in high school and when I began using it again in college I promised myself I would only snort it (or sometimes smoke it) and that I would NEVER shoot it… But then smoking three 30′s made me feel only a little bit okay, and snorting a couple bags only barely took the pain away.. then I shot it once just to try it and then…well, to this day I am still trying to pick up the pieces of my life and put them back together. I screwed up my entire freshman year of college, lost all of my ambition, almost died twice, lost 50 pounds, turned into a zombie… I lost all of my feelings for people who cared about me, I stopped eating because everything I ate would end up getting thrown up anyway. Heroin put me in so many bad situations too. I’ve been robbed numerous times, sometimes by people I thought were my “friends”. I’ve had a gun pulled on me, my house and car broken into… then I started becoming shady myself.

To keep up with my habits I had to middleman dope and I would upcharge junkies that I knew would pay the price. I helped my dealer rob another dealer; we stole 10 bricks and I accepted only 2 and a half bricks for helping, which is still a lot of dope but I did most of the work and settling for less than half was okay to me. That’s not right? I didn’t even think twice about it. Once I got my cut I sold about 2 grams and the rest went into my veins eventually. I held onto my stash like it was my prized possession. I kept that much heroin in my dorm room. What the fuck was I thinking??? Then a week before the end of the semester I realized that I had to go home and see my family and I looked in the mirror and just started bawling because I knew they would know… I mean how could they not? I was pale as a ghost, had the biggest dark circles, my arms were COVERED in track marks and they’re still not healed, I was weak, skinny, my hair had become thin, I just looked like I had no life left in me. When I first tried heroin I thought I was going to do it on the side just to keep myself happy and comfortable. And for a while I did, I somehow kept a balance, but without even realizing it, I let myself go. I drowned in my sorrows and let my lack of self esteem take me away and I became the one thing I said I never would be.

Addiction is real. It’s not something anyone wishes for or tries to acquire. It can sneak up on you and before you realize it has you, you’ll have no money, no good people left in your life, and you’ll NEVER notice how much you changed as a person. I was okay with giving up my potential and dreams to escape through a temporary buzz. Growing up I had always surrounded myself with the wrong people and usually it would bite me in the ass and I would learn my lesson, but damn I was convinced that heroin was my best friend. I mean when I met heroin it was love at first sight. When it almost killed me, I woke up and shot another couple bags….

Thinking about it now I can’t believe it. My daily life was: wake up, snort a couple bags, go to class, eat a snack, shoot in the bathroom before my next class (if i didn’t have enough I would skip and go out and get more), throw up (usually happened randomly throughout the day), go to class and nod out and embarrass myself because I looked like such a junkie sitting there barely conscious, do a bit of homework, make moves to score some dope, shoot up my first big score, go to my dealers house (she wanted to fuck me so she usually gave me a couple bags for free), shoot that and chill for a bit, smoke some weed, maybe pop a xanax bar, go on rides with my dealer and all along the way snort bags off the back of my phone, eat something, throw that up, stumble to my friend’s house where me and my 2 “best friends” would spend our time smoking stupid amounts of weed, smoking 30′s, shooting smoking and snorting dope, and from there I would middleman more dope for my dealer and I would just shoot my profits all night and then eventually pass out just to wake up the next day and start all over.

I lost all common sense. This junkie lifestyle became normal to me. It became all I knew and all I wanted. I cut out friends that were actually positive and had their shit together. Then I would cry and wonder why I was so lonely. By doing drugs, I only made myself physically feel better but only temporarily and I spent the rest of my time either thinking about drugs or I was trying to get more drugs. Drugs never fixed any of my problems like I thought they did. I thought I was “self medicating”. I thought I was helping myself. All I did was make my life worse and almost killed myself.

The thing about being high all the time, with your main priority also fixated on getting your fix, you think life is okay. Drugs create this lens that distorts life and blocks worries, which means your life can fall apart right in front of your eyes but you can’t feel it, you can’t see it. You’re high and for that moment you are sucking in all the artificial happiness. The problem is when you inevitably come down, you see your life clearly for a minute and everything slams you at once, what you’ve lost, what you could’ve had. It is the tallest mountain to climb to undo what you have done, a lot of people try and try to climb it, but many fall back into an ever deeper bottom.

I’m 3 years sober but I’m still an addict. You never stop being an addict. I’m trying to fix myself. You’re not magically cured and your problems just don’t go away once you quit drugs, but you can face them with a clear mind. I still get depressed, my anxiety still kinda runs my life, but I’m not medicating with the old destructive habits. I’m not using drugs as a crutch anymore. I went back to school, earned my degree, and still managed to get into medical school. Things can change, but it takes more than just quitting drugs. You have to want it, with all of your being and then some. Sobriety is only the first step.

L O FUCKING L 

This is too funny. I love this. And I more than love that the coke bears nose is bleeding. I just want to hug shroom bear forever and heroin bear to be my best friend. 


This is NOT my picture nor do I take ANY credit for it. I do not know the source or the artist, as this is a post I saw on facebook and the page who posted it also did not know the source. 

Tomorrow, I will be 2 weeks sober.  I haven’t gone this long since probably my junior year in high school.  Even though my addiction to intravenous heroin is fairly new, its always been something with me.  It started off with Xanax and K-pins, then to that mixture I added adderall, vicodin and valium and lorezepam, then as I began to experiment with drugs I realized that anti depressants/anti anxiety medication wasn’t my favorite anymore.  I started my opiate addiction with 5mg percs, then I began snorting them and upped my dose little by little.  Then I went to college and began smoking 30′s and popping xanax and adderall on the regular.  Then I revisited an old friend of mine, heroin.  I had tried it in high school once, and it gave me such a good feeling I was afraid to use it again.  I had only snorted it in high school and when I began using it again in college I promised myself I would only snort it (or sometimes smoke it) and that I would NEVER shoot it… But then smoking 3 30′s made me feel only a little bit okay, and snorting a couple bags only barely took the pain away.. then I shot it once just to try it and then…. Now I am trying to pick up the pieces of my life and put them back together.  I screwed up my entire freshman year of college, lost all of my ambition, almost died twice, lost 35 pounds, turned into a zombie, I lost all of my feelings for people who cared about me, I stopped eating because everything I ate would end up getting thrown up anyway.. the heroin put me in so many bad situations too… I was almost raped in an alley, ive been robbed numerous times and by people I thought were my “friends”.  I started becoming shady myself.  To keep up with my habits I had to middleman dope and I would upcharge junkies that I knew would pay the price..  I helped my dealer rob another dealer… we stole 10 bricks and I accepted only 2 and a half bricks for helping.. which is still a lot of dope but still.. I did most of the work and settling for less than half was okay to me.. thats not right?  I didn’t even think twice about it.  Once I got my cut I sold about 2 grams and the rest went into my veins eventually… I held onto my stash like it was my prized possession.. I kept that much heroin in my dorm room!  What the fuck was I thinking???  Then a week before the end of the semester I realized that I had to go home and see my parents and I looked in the mirror and just started balling because I knew they would know… I mean how could they not?  I was pale as a ghost, had the biggest dark circles, my arms were COVERED in track marks and they’re still not healed, I was weak, skinny, my hair had become thin, I just looked like I had no life left in me.  When I first tried heroin I thought I was going to do it on the side just to keep myself happy and comfortable and for a while I did, I somehow kept a balance, but without even realizing it, I mean it just snuck up on me.. I let myself go.  I drowned in my sorrows and let my lack of self esteem take me away and I became the one thing I said I never would be.  Ever since I was 12, when I first started smoking weed I was always told that my actions were a gateway to horrible things.  Of course I would laugh and say “pshhh Im okay!  I would never do heroin thats stupid!” and “Crack? wtf why would I do that?”  Then the next thing I knew I was sitting in a basement with a group of junkies shooting up half a gram of heroin just so that I could go to the atm to pull out money for more dope.  I needed that much to get off the couch… and before I left my friend passed me the pipe and said “while youre out grab some foil.”


Addiction is real.  Its not something anyone wishes for or tries to acquire.  It can sneak up on you and take over you real quick and before you realize it has you, you’ll have no money, no good people left in your life, and you’ll NEVER notice how much you changed as a person.  I gave up my potential and dreams to escape through a temporary buzz.  Growing up I had always surrounded myself with the wrong people and usually it would bite me in the ass and I would learn my lesson but damn i was convinced that heroin was my best friend…. I mean when I met heroin it was love at first sight..I had experimented with many drugs and I had never come across one that made me feel so good.  I thought Perc 30′s were my one true love but the high had nothing on the high I got from shooting heroin.  The step from 30′s to heroin was the biggest leap I ever made.  It was like I jumped off a bridge.  30′s took all of my money and turned me into a hard opiate addict but they never almost killed me or put me in bad situations.. I mean I was so high on heroin going out to pick up whippits that I almost got raped in an alley and I didn’t have the energy to defend myself, thank god someone just happened to be walking that way and the guy got up and ran.. The experience destroyed me and I went to my friends house that night and shot 6 bags of dope and fell out and almost died. By then that was my second experience with falling out.  My first time was from accidentally smoking too much heroin that turned out to be fentanyl.  When I almost died the second time, I woke up and I didn’t care… I smoked a little crack and woke up and shot another couple bags…. thinking about it now I can’t believe it.. I just can’t… my daily life was: wake up, snort a couple bags, go to class, eat a snack, shoot in the bathroom before my next class (if i didn’t have enough I would skip and go out and find enough), throw up (usually happened randomly throughout the day), go to class and nod out and embarrass myself because I looked like such a junkie sitting there barely conscious, do a bit of homework, make moves to score some dope, shoot up my first big score, go to my dealers house (she wanted to bang me so she usually gave me a couple bags for free), shoot that and chill for a bit, smoke some weed, smoke some crack, maybe pop a xanax bar, go on rides with my dealer and all along the way snort bags off the back of my phone, eat something, throw that up, stumble to my friend’s house where me and my 2 “bestfriends” would spend our time smoking stupid amounts of weed, smoking 30′s, shooting smoking and snorting dope, and from there I would middleman more dope for my dealer and I would just shoot my profits all night and then eventually pass out just to wake up the next day and start all over.  Weekends were the worst… I would pull all nighters and just get high constantly and I thought that was normal… I mean everyone else was out drinking and partying so same thing right?  I lost all common sense.  This junkie lifestyle became normal to me.  It became all I knew and all I wanted.  I cut out friends that were actually positive and had their shit together.  Then I would cry and wonder why I was so lonely.  By doing drugs, I only made myself physically feel better but only temporarily and I spent the rest of my time either thinking about drugs or I was trying to get more drugs.  Drugs never fixed any of my problems like I thought they did.  I thought I was “self medicating”.  I thought I was helping myself.  All I did was make my life worse and I almost killed myself and not even on purpose!


So if any of you out there are struggling with addiction and you feel like you have no one to talk to, no one to talk to that will understand or won’t judge you, please feel free to message me.  I needed someone to talk to through all of that and I had no one.  I couldn’t even talk to my old friends because I was embarrassed of my habits and I knew they wouldn’t understand anyway.  


I’m an addict too and I’m trying to fix myself.  I haven’t made it that far yet but I’m trying and I’m willing to talk to anyone who needs it so please don’t hesitate! I’m right here with you and we can get through this together! One step at a time.

Look, I know how hard it is to be the family member/friend of an addict. Before I started using I had to watch my best friend almost die from heroin. It’s a pain that’s indescribable, I know how helpless it makes someone feel. But how fucking selfish is it to act like someone’s addiction is all about you, and how your pain is more important than theirs. If it hurts so bad to watch it, imagine how badly it hurts to be the one living it.

My best friend shot heroin into my arm as I rolled up my sleeve and showed him the ways he could show me the world.
I cried into the softness like an empty desert and when I fell back it felt like warm dirt on a hot summer day.
I cried into my coffee in the morning when I heard what happened to you and it was sad even though you did it to yourself.
I never thought at twenty I’d watch my friends start to leave.
Forgive me, for my sins, delusions and atrocities.
Forgive me, please, because at nineteen no one has a grip.
I have never faltered in my ways until now, and I will never falter like this again- I promise.
I shouted into oblivion the syllables of your name and lamented how strange it felt to hear no echo in the canyons of your absence.
I pulled my legs across the spaces in between us but found myself waking up wrapped in blankets in my bed.
My mother said I was addiction prone.
My father said my tolerance was good.
I lay in a bed decaying and wishing and wasting away like
My friends wrapped in earth.
I stood on my roof and wondered why I couldn’t see you leap across the edge and
I bled out my teeth planning to bury them next to you.
I kept your body in a glass in my pantry
And I kept your tears next to the bourbon.
You left your laughs in the cracks on my ceiling and I heard them last night when I was sleeping.
—  a very drunk friend

“Im sorry and i love you and the kids more than you know. Ill be home soon.”

My ex 2 days before I found out he died of an overdose.  We had children together, but I left him and moved away when he started drinking heavily.  He was supposed to move to the same city as us in a couple of weeks.  He had stopped drinking, but had apparently started using heroine.  Nobody knew. He was my best friend even after we seperated.  I wake up every morning and see children that look just like him.  I wish i had known he had a problem so i could have helped him. Im angry that my kids have to go through this, but i still love him 

crappy77  asked:

I grew up with an adopted brother, born addicted to heroin and cocaine. My mother's best friend was the wife of the Rabbi that lived across the street. My adopted brother got me into comics at 13. Know that stories matter, I credit them as part of my character. I have respect for your vocation and the way you choose to divide the spoils. Sorry if it seems less than eloquent.

Less than eloquent? I wish I was as eloquent as you, my friend

Thank you for everything