OMG My Mom Was Right!
Growing up, my parents, like many others, always told me drugs were bad. Don’t do drugs. You’ll get addicted and end up in rehab. I can tell you right now I never thought rehab was in the cards. If someone had asked me when I was eighteen where I saw myself in five years, I would’ve said married and doing something with a degree in criminology. But I chose a different path.
It was the summer of my junior year of high school. I had just gotten my license and car. I was one of the first to go out with my friends then. We started going wherever we wanted because we could. It felt so good. One day, I was hanging out with some of my friends, and we were trying to figure out what to do. After a lot of back and forth, we concluded we would get high for the first time.
I remember feeling nervous but excited. I grew up relatively sheltered, so I had no idea what to expect. As the blunt got closer, I became more anxious. Finally, it was in my hands, and it was over from there.
My mom had always warned me about drugs and told me about how bad weed was. I feared my mom would find out and send me to rehab. But I rationalized it by thinking it was just weed and she would get over it, and my friends would think I was lame if I chickened out. But when I took my first hit, I remember feeling perplexed. My mom always said drugs were bad and they made you feel bad, but this didn’t. I thought to myself, “My mom lied to me.” After that, I was willing to try whatever drug came my way and see how “bad” it was.
During my time as a pothead, I met many different people. People I may never have become friends with if it hadn’t been for the fact we smoked together. I met a guy through some of my friends and became more addicted to him than weed.
After several months of being together, our relationship became extremely toxic. I was looking for any escape I could. I started drinking heavily to try and forget what was happening and was looking for ways to numb myself from the reality before me. He introduced me to new people and new drugs; one of them being cocaine.
For a long time, I refused to ever try cocaine. I heard how addictive it could be and didn’t want to become addicted. But as he was getting a line together for me, I thought back to the first time I smoked weed. I thought to myself, well, my mom lied to me about weed, so why wouldn’t she lie about this too? So, I did it, instantly hooked on the jittery, numbing feeling. From there, my life started to unravel.
I started doing things I would have never done before. I became violent and spewed hatred to whoever was in my path. Anyone who tried to stop me from getting coke was just a terrible person. I believed I was invincible and could quit whenever I wanted. I thought it wasn’t that bad until it was.
One morning I was sitting in my room and had been up all night doing cocaine. I remember doing a line and questioning if it was a little much, but I thought, “It’s just coke.” In five minutes, my heart started palpitating, and then the blood vessels in my lungs collapsed. In shock, I sat there with my hand on my chest, fighting to breathe. No matter what I did, my heart wouldn’t stop racing, and I thought, am I going to die? My parents took me to the hospital, and the journey scared me, but not enough. I was so addicted to how “good” I felt on it that nothing mattered, not my health, family, or boyfriend; absolutely nothing mattered.
Finally, my parents sat me down. They told me they wouldn’t sit by and watch their only daughter slowly kill herself. They told me I was going to rehab or I could go live in my car. I sat there going back and forth with myself, questioning everything that had led me to this point. Did the drugs actually make me feel good? Was my mom right? Are drugs really that bad? Come to find out; I was the wrong one. I went to treatment and realized just how bad and damaging the drugs were to my health and to my relationship with my family. I realized that even though I may have felt good at the moment, it never lasted. I was chasing a high that took me so low.
Now I work to help other people like me, those who lost their way and thought drugs were fun. The thing to remember is every choice you make has consequences. Ignoring my mom and convincing myself she was wrong led me to addiction.
“Addiction doesn’t define who you are as a person. You can accept your past and move on. Addiction isn’t something
that has to control your life.”
Addiction doesn’t define who you are as a person. You can accept your past and move on. Addiction isn’t something that has to control your life.
If you or a loved one are struggling with addiction, you are not alone. Many never think they would become addicted and lost, but there is a way to find yourself again. It starts with reaching out for help before it’s too late.