Hope not Dope (READ WITH CAUTION)

Yes, the picture you are looking at, is ice, used in drinks....I didn't feel comfortable using a picture of drugs, and I didn't want to trigger anyone.

BUT this post is about drugs. I was inspired by a video I just saw on Facebook a few minutes ago. The woman in the video was upset because she found out someone from her recovery center had just died from an overdose.

Since I am using my phone, and the Wix app, I can't insert the link, but I will from the computer later.

Back to what I was saying...I have been inspired by the video. I have been inspired to share my experience and sober life.

Just a forewarning, some of the things I talk about may be a little rough to hear.

Some people know my story already, but they only know half of it, or the "G rated" content that I have told them.

At age 25, in 2015 I was living in Salina, KS. I had just had my son in September, and was living in my own apartment. I was doing fine, trying to do good and try to be a better parent for my son when I couldn't be one for my daughter.

That November, about the 30th of November, I had come across, from a friend...let's call him "M" a small baggie of white powder. I was instructed to flush it down the toilet. But instead I had went into the bathroom and flushed the toilet and the baggie in my pocket.

I had been through a big to do with my son's donor, and at the time did not know what the white powder was until "M" told me that it was Methaphetamine. So me, being curious had wondered why my son's donor was so infatuated with the drug. Why did he keep going back for more.

Boy, was I in for a surprise. The story I tell has it to were I didn't realize it was on my finger and I accidentally tried it. Oh I knew what I was doing. I put it in my drink, after a quick incognito search on the internet I found you could put it in drinks. Let me say it was horrible tasting...but man, did my veins have a fire in them. Every fiber of my body was awoken like an electric current just went through it.

After the warmth and the lens of clarity of the meth had work off, I knew I needed more. So when I had gotten paid the next day from helping with a elderly gentleman I was caring for, I contacted "M" and he soon became my supplier. From then on, whenever I would get paid, I was spending $40 to $80 dollars in order to get my fix.

Each time I would get high, I would feel amazing. I would feel like I could do anything. In someways, I always have said, I felt like a better parent. But when it came down to my sons care, I always made sure he was taken care of then I got my fix. Even though I chalk it up to "at least I still took care of him" I was still putting my son in danger.

As time had gone on, I would trade rides in a friends vehicle for meth., Instead of gas money, I would get meth. My supplier, "M" soon got arrested, and I found another supplier, we will call her "B". I would soon start trading things for meth. I would give my supplier "B" the opportunity to take showers in my bathroom, or come hang out at my apartment. I still used cash, but when I was low on money, I would trade opportunities for the drug. I never did anything sexually, as some people are most known to do. I soon reignited an old friendship with, lets call him "F". "F" had a crush on me throughout high school. So then came another opportunity. I exploited the fact that "F" had a crush on me still to that day, and used it for him to also become a supplier. When I would smoke the meth, in a glass pipe, I would go into my bathroom with the fan on, after I would put my son down for bed, and I would get what I call "stuck". I would take paper and a ton of pens into the bathroom and try to write poetry. I would smoke meth, then smoke a cigarette to increase the high, then I would get "stuck" on trying to write pretty. Making sure I was writing like computer font.

Every time I would have some meth, I would smoke more. The more I smoked, the more I spent on it. I was probably spending $100 every paycheck. I snorted it, I dipped it, I smoked it, I even used it during coitus.

It became a thing of living. I needed it to make the headaches I would get from it go away. I tell in my "G rated" version I would force myself to sleep, and eat to make sure nobody knew what was going on.....well....that's true to certain extent. I would wait til 4 am when I forced myself to stop smoking it so i could get some sleep. I would eat nibbles of things here and there, but mostly made up excuses that I was having nausea.

I started losing weight, and I started getting irritable very easily. Never abusive to others. I would drive around with the pipe and my drugs tucked into my bra so I had it everywhere I went.

Shortly before "M" was arrested, he had some people over smoking meth in the living room, and I had went to bed with my son, around 1 in the morning "M" came into the room with a 9ml pistol, silver in color, and told me he was going to buy it from the guy. Needless to say he didnt and the gun was used in a murder, by the guy who owned it.

Shortly after "M" was arrested, I had two other people staying with me. The girl was a known user, but I never did anything with her, and the boy was a guy i knew from high school. I was at a friends house "J", thats what Ill call the friend, and I had my son with me, but the boy that was staying there at the time, had called me and said that the girl had over several guys and was using needles to shoot up meth. I quickly got my son loaded into "J's" vehicle and rushed over there to my apartment. When I got there the girl was gone and so were the other guys, and I found broken pipes on the carpet and needle parts on the floor. Needless to say, I didnt bring my son in until EVERYTHING was cleaned up.

One time, I was with my supplier "B", at her suppliers house, and a police car came driving by with it spotlight on, and was then instructed to drive, to get away and go somewhere else. Again, the more I smoked, the more I spent. As time went on, and my supplier, then turned partner "M" was released from jail, it became dangerous. There would be heated arguments to the point "M" would block me from getting close to my son. "M" would accuse me of messing around with someone, he would throw things around the apartment. "M" had smoked some weed, and had went to bed around 5 pm. My apartment faced another apartment complex, and it had caught fire. There were many police officers and firetrucks there. But I laid on the couch with my son and fell asleep. 2 am rolls around, and here comes "M" from the bedroom, throwing the chair over, and demanding that when he goes to bed, I will be in bed right next to him. I argued that my son was still awake and i didnt want to wake him. There was still a police officer outside, but out of range to hear the turmoil going on inside my apartment. "M" saw the lights, and thought i had called the police, he threatened to stomp my head in and give my son back to his donor, and came real close to hitting me.

The next few weeks, I was smoking off and on, and starting to get into a deep depression. I had bills cut off, I stayed with my friend "J", and was continuously threatened, emotionally abused, mentally abused. "J's" truck was a Dodge, that had the two doors, but when the two main doors were opened you could open a second door on each side. On the passenger side the back door would get stuck.

A month before I left, things between "M" and I had started worsening. My supplier "F" had been hurt by the fact that "M" knew "F" was infatuated with me, and would make it known. So "F" left us alone, except for the last night we had called and asked him to help. "B", my female supplier was already in jail for something else. A few weeks before I left, 'M" woke me up at 330 in the morning and demanded that I drive him across town for a large amount of meth. We had an argument because I didn't want to take my son out that early. It started in the bedroom, where he pinned me to the bed and drew his arm back and hit me in the side of the head as well as the mattress, his claim was he wasn't trying to hit me in the head. I got angry, and after we had made it to the truck, I had taken off the ring I had gotten because I thought i wanted to marry him, and I chucked it across the field. "M" became infuriated and came around the truck and gotten in my face. Now at this time I had stopped smoking meth for a short time. So, as we got into the truck he told me where to go, and as I left the parking lot, and he kept threatening to smash my head against the drivers side window so hard it would break through the glass. He told me blankly that he hoped I would die from the incident. I had scooted so close to the drivers side door, that if you were to have opened it, I would have fallen out. After "M" had made that comment, I had stopped the truck in the middle of the road, and he then punched me in the arm, to which I had the bruising in the shape and size of a potato. After the initial shock had worn off I made my way to the hotel that we were supposed to get the drugs from. Before "M" was allowed to go up, I had spotted the Casey's next door and claimed I had to use the bathroom, and tried to get my sons car seat out claiming i needed to change his diaper, but "M" grabbed a hold of it, and reared back and punched me in the left side of the face/nose. Then the blood started coming out, all over my sons blanket, and I quickly got back in the truck, blurry vision in my left eye, in dire pain. After "M" had gone inside, and gotten the drugs, we called "F", and asked for a pain killer, which he happily obliged and then came to hang out with us. "M" constantly told me to tell a different story, and told me I was hideous, and he couldn't look at me. He kept asking me why I made him do it. He fell asleep a couple nights later and accused me of having sex with "F" and smoking meth when I didn't.

After we went back to my apartment I put my son to bed, and then smoked meth with him and "F". The next day I went to the hospital, and claimed the truck door that got stuck a lot, was the culprit. I am pretty sure the nurses didn't believe me. Needless to say, my nose was broken, and had been offset by a millimeter.

As the next few weeks progressed, my black eye became more noticeable, and I would get looks. My neighbor, who had helped me a lot, knew something might be going on and had neglected to stay out of it so as to not cause me any more harm. I sank deeper into a depression so massive that I only cared for my son and made sure he was taken care of. "M" would threatened to call girls over and have sex with them while i was laying right next to it. He would keep me high on meth and abuse me even more, he would claim I touched the tablet his mom gave him, when even though we were literally sitting next to each other, and he saw i never once touched it. He would accuse me of insane things he claimed he found on the internet. He took my phones and smashed them, kept me from contacting anyone.

The day came when my son needed baby food, so I asked my neighbor to take me, and I took my son with me. Which is surprising "M" would even do that. As soon as my neighbor and I were on the main road, I told him the real reason why I had asked him to take me. He gladly accepted. So calls were made, and I came back to live with my daughters father.

Since then I have been on the road to recovery. It has been hard, and I am living with the trauma that has brought me. If I wasn't sober when I made the decision to leave, then I would probably be dead.

The moral of my tale is that there is nothing on this Earth that should take away your life. Drugs are not the answer, and if you are or have been addicted to drugs...then there is help out there.

I do not share my story lightly. For the trauma I still endure is a real thing. But I have made the effort to get clean, and do my best to stay sober.