Fentanyl addiction recounted by Christopher Johnson

Fentanyl addiction recounted by Christopher Johnson.

In the words that follow, I will candidly share my harrowing journey through the depths of drug addiction, which was incited by the potent and dangerous substance known as fentanyl. For a staggering five years, I was held captive by this merciless addiction, consumed by its grip and feeding its insatiable appetite with an astounding daily expenditure of $100. Seven days a week, 365 days a year, without pause or respite. I existed in a state of perpetual oblivion, with no horizon in sight, until today. Today, I have finally awakened to the other side, to the unfamiliar realm of sobriety. The veil of addiction has been lifted, and I am free from the bondage of fentanyl, after using it continuously from 2019 until I woke up finally sober free from its withdrawals
this very day, 4/20/2023

My upbringing was characterized by a series of tumultuous relationships, with my single mother marrying multiple times throughout the years. One particular marriage stood out to me - that of Matt, whom I had grown to love. However, their union was not meant to last, and my mother eventually found herself in the arms of Tombay, with whom she bore my younger brother when I was just 14 years old.

Initially, I found Tombay to be an acceptable presence in our lives, but my perception of him was irreversibly shattered when I stumbled upon a video camera with footage of him engaged in a disturbing and inhumane act. The video depicted Tombay and his cohorts in Cuba partaking in a satanic ritual, during which they sacrificed a goat and skinned it alive while it hung from its neck, wailing in agony. To make matters worse, they also had live geese in their grasp, holding them by the neck and spinning them around in a frenzy, all while chanting and beating drums.

As someone who cherishes my connection with God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit, I was shaken to my core by the satanic nature of the ritual and the needless cruelty towards the innocent animals involved. Needless to say, my fear and apprehension towards Tombay were firmly cemented from that day on.

In addition to Tombay, there was also Frank, my mother's boyfriend, during my earliest memory, who had robbed a bank when I was only 2 or 3 years old, in Chicago. The circumstances of my upbringing were fraught with instability and unpredictability, making it challenging for me to establish a sense of safety and security in my formative years.

Frank was the epitome of evil. I recall how my mother fled from Chicago to Miami, as the police were hot on his pursuit. Even in Miami, Frank found us. He would pound on our door, shatter the window panes, and ruthlessly beat my mother. She was left to defend herself with a wooden broom, her weapon of choice. In her later years, she would turn that broom on me, but as I got older, she resorted to brandishing a gun, pointing it directly at me and threatening to end my life. Frank's friend once called, and I answered, thinking it was mom, but instead, I was met with a terrifying voice. The caller threatened to come to our house and chop me up into pieces. I hid under a table, crying for hours, fearing for my life. I remember being taught how to operate the microwave so I could feed myself every day alone. While mom was out drinking with her publix coworker friends on a daily basis, that was their lifestyle back then. Everyday I came home from school to the empty lonely Apartment complex building with my key to the house had been hung around my head like a gold chain only a shoe rope and a Key so my 7 year old self Could enter the empty home And there were many times I lost the key and didn't gain access. I remember those nights well.


Nelson was my mother's final husband, but he hated me from the very beginning. On the first night I met him, I heard moaning coming from the next room. When I went out to investigate, I saw his Camaro parked outside, and I knew what was happening. I wanted no part in it, so I left the house on foot 12 years old. I was soon stopped by the police. I explained what was happening, they took me back home, I still remember Nelsons Facial expression Pure hatred as he sees me for the 1st time while the cops are surrounding the door just seconds ago banging on the door wondering how can these Parents allow their minor child to be walking the streets of richmond heights at this time of the night I remember specifically them pulling me over for curfew because I was obviously a child not supposed to be out there Wandering the streets. I vividly remember the police searching my Bookbag looking for drugs to find nothing for at the time I was an innocent child. I remember thinking whos stranger having rough sex with my mom. Before that day, I had never heard moaning once in my life.

When my little brother was born, Nelson's hatred for me grew. During a heated argument, he flipped the dinner table over, throwing food everywhere, and beat me mercilessly. My mother denied seeing anything, and I was kicked out of the house at 13 or 14 years old. I was forced to live at my grandparents. They took me in for a while, two years passed, they kicked me out when they discovered I was smoking weed. I was introduced to weed by the varsity football players my freshman year in high school. Me on the junior varsity team, a backup right guard. Fortunately, I found refuge with my Aunt Wendy and Uncle Tom. They showed me love and care, educated me, and even flew me around in their airplane. Uncle Tom was the biggest influence on my life, and to this day, I love him for everything he did for me. Wendy and Tom provided me with the nurturing and guidance that my own parents failed to give me. I will forever be grateful to them for raising me and shaping me into the man I am today.

One of my earliest recollections dates back to when I was around three years old. At the time, Frank, a man who was in my mother's life, presented me with a black plastic bag filled with G.I. Joe dolls. To my young eyes, these toys resembled male Barbie dolls dressed in military uniforms, complete with metal swords, guns, rifles, boots, and authentic army attire. As I recall, they were considered vintage and had a high value. However, I had a strange suspicion that they weren't rightfully obtained and that somehow they were the spoils of a home invasion or robbery. Despite my tender age, I was not ignorant, and I sensed that the G.I. Joe dolls were ill-gotten goods. In retrospect, it wasn't until I was around seven years old, and we had relocated to Miami, that I could finally connect the dots and piece together the origin of the toys. My realization dawned upon me that Frank must have stolen them from someone else, and I was just an unwitting recipient of stolen property.

Fast Forward

As the sharp, throbbing pain in my teeth persisted, i found myself unable to work. My job as an Uber driver, once a source of income and stability, was now out of reach. With each passing day, the pain only seemed to worsen, leaving me bedridden and incapacitated. It was then that I discovered fentanyl, a powerful painkiller that offered me much-needed relief. Despite its highly addictive nature and the dangers that came with it, I couldn't resist its siren call. With each hit, the pain faded away, allowing me to escape into a world of numbness and bliss. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months, I realized too late that my addiction had taken hold. The very thing that had once saved me was now destroying me from the inside out.

Rewind

As I lay under the bridge homeless clutching my head in agony, I longed for the relief that had been so elusive since my teeth started to rot. I had never been to a dentist and had no idea what was happening to me. How could I, with no health insurance and no money to my name? It was all I could do to survive, let alone seek medical attention.

My life had taken a dark turn when my fiance Amanda died in a terrible accident. I lost my mind and became a recluse, living off the grid in the wild for years. The bridge was my home for a time, and when I finally saved enough money to buy a boat, I lived on the water. But the pain never left me. It was always there, a constant reminder of everything I had lost. Amanda was never coming back, the pain said to me.

Fast Forward

Unfortunately, all that money slowly started to disappear into thin air as my addiction took over. It was a slow leak, day-by-day, year-by-year, until I was left with almost nothing.

Fast Forward

Before I got clean, I reached the point of no return. Everything was gone - my money, my belongings, except for my car, apartment, computer, and TV. It was a stark reminder of how far I had fallen and how much I had lost to my addiction.

Rewind

In the midst of my struggles with addiction, there was a time when I had a fleet of bitcoin mining machines that raked in a staggering $6000 a month at its peak. Upon settling back on land, I became fixated on the world of cryptocurrency and began amassing the necessary equipment, piece by piece, until my entire bathroom was overrun with these high-powered machines that hummed and whirred day and night.

The bathroom was transformed into a steamy, sweltering chamber, with the heat radiating from the mining equipment. The air was thick with the acrid smell of burnt metal and plastic, as fans whirred and screens flickered with digital readouts.

The situation had become absurd, with temperatures reaching an unbearable 200ﾟ in the confined space of the bathroom. Yet, amidst the chaos, I maintained my record-keeping, documenting everything with screenshots that I proudly displayed on my social media profiles. Anyone could verify my account of events by delving into the archives of my Facebook or Instagram, scrolling back to 2020, and surveying the photographic evidence of my misadventures.

The Cost of Sobriety

It's not easy admitting to mistakes, but I must confess that my addiction costs me more than just my health. At one point, I had amassed a fortune in Bitcoin mining machines, generating $6,000 monthly at it's Peak. My obsession with crypto led me to invest everything I had into these machines, hoping to cash out and use the money to get sober.

Fast Forward to Last week

Sadly, it was not to be. I lost $5,500 instantly when I hit sell, leaving me with only $1,500 from my $7,000 investment. But, as they say, hindsight is 20/20. I needed that money to pay rent and survive the torturous withdrawals of getting clean.

Fast Forward

Today is a new Dawn for me
It's been a long and arduous journey, but I am finally on the clean side. Today is 4/20/23, and I can't help but feel grateful for every moment of this new life. I never want to go back to the darkness of addiction, and I am determined to stay sober.

Everything you've read here is just a glimpse into My Story
My story is long and complex, filled with both highs and lows. If you're interested in seeing the evidence of my past, go check out my Facebook or Instagram. I'm not a liar, and I have the screenshots to prove everything I've said here. But, for now, I'm focusing on the present and the future, grateful for every sober day I have.

Thank you for your time and attention. may the universe favor your family and your friends,
As I bid you farewell, may the cosmic forces bestow upon you and your kin their abundant blessings. May your loved ones remain secure and your circle of friends ever expanding. Stay safe, everyone, amidst the frigid winds of life.

- Christopher Johnson