Growth

I was young when I first discovered the world of “drugs”. I grew up with addicts for “family”. Paraphonealia surrounded my siblings and I constantly, until the day we started to understand…

Taking a look back to when I started realizing.. my father kept pushing my mother and I away. One day he pushed us so far that we packed a bag and left, leaving my father, brother, and sister behind.

It broke us.. I was shattered. I didn’t understand what was going on, but I seen my mother drinking and smoking her feelings away.. Eventually she ended up behind bars, I was crushed.. I lost my last line of support, now I lived with my grandmother and grandfather.

I was curious, i was 12 and couldn’t completely understand everything yet, but I needed to know, so I asked my grandmother if I could try alcohol for New Years.. my 13th birthday follows New Years so she thought a little would be fine.

New Years comes along and she bought me a 6 pack of Grape Smirnoff’s. I drink 3 and somehow manage to get buzzed, i hobble around listening to music throughout the night, my grandma and I laugh the night away, soon as the ball drops I pass out on the couch.

I wake up the following day, notice there’s three left, so I drink them. The same happens throughout the night, and the following day my grandmother asks if I’d like to drink again on my birthday, I said yes.

Little did I know this would become so much more.

It’s finally the 12th, my grandmother brings in a 12 pack variety of screwdrivers. I drink 6-7 causing myself to get drunk, my mother had just got out of jail a couple days before.

I was turning thirteen so she had said what the hell, why not smoke a joint, with me. The smoke filled my lungs, and with it I felt the weight lift off my shoulders. I laid back staring at the clouds in the sky pondering.

Is this why they had used drugs?

But these weren’t the ones they used, I’m sure they had different affects, but I wasn’t ready to find out what else they had done.

I was enjoying the feeling of the now, of what I had discovered being enough.

Eventually they faded into a normal thing. Something I needed to get through the day. It wasn’t doing what I needed it too.

So I chose to experiment. I tried pills, first notins, then percs, and eventually habitual use of xans.

My life started feeling better, but getting worse.

I was only 15. With a child as well.

Life was hard.

Though I was devoted on raising my kid, I didn’t realize how much I was hurting her.

I begged for forgiveness day in and day out.

Cried, begged, and pleaded to someone but I didn’t yet know who.

But eventually I tried amphetamines.

Oh did it feel great to mix everything, “cross faded” was always what I heard.

The weed was potent, the drugs even more.

I could feel myself drift away, see my body outside on myself.

I knew it was wrong but it felt so right.

Was I wrong for wanting to feel okay?

To find a reason to live?

Either way I can’t change that now.

The smoke had done billowed from my lips, I had inhaled and exhaled the tars and toxins.

I felt Alive.

And that’s all anyone ever wants right?

It eventually feels like it’s not enough though too, right?

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Come back for more.

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Short story to begin my profile.