Essay About First Time And Kitchen Utensils

Drugs
Drugs
I was powerless over drinking and using
Imagine a cold, unheated apartment in the middle of Hollywood. A bachelor sized apartment. No pictures hanging on the wall, a mattress in the middle of the floor, a hard back folding chair sitting in the middle of the room, a few kitchen utensils and some old pots and pans laid on and around the kitchen stove with no place to go. You could hear the traffic zooming by on Franklin Avenue. When you opened the door with your key, you could see cockroaches running about on the walls and the floors. It felt was cold and smelled awful. The first time I was visited by my then boyfriend, I watched him shoot cocaine, and kept a careful eye on where all the cockroaches were headed. It wasnt long before I allowed him to shoot me up also. It happened in that apartment, the place two sick, suffering addicts, my boyfriend and I, called home. This is the place I remember when I think about taking another drink again. By Gods grace, I will never have to go back there again. Thirteen years later, I am still so grateful for my sobriety and abstinence from all mind-altering drugs. Id like to tell a bit of my story and a bit of my recovery. The feeling I got after cocaine went through my veins, into my brain was like nothing Id ever felt before. It was sure ecstasy. My body convulsed as the drug took its effect. Time was no longer a part of my world. Who knows how long we spent in that awful apartment. I hallucinated and felt things touch me that werent real clear to the naked eye. I was truly in another world, an evil, dark world. He always provided the drugs and alcohol. When the drug would start to wear off, panic would set in. I remember wishing I had a gun to kill myself. The pain that set in when my body began to crave more was again like no other feeling Ive ever experienced, or want to experience again. I couldnt sleep, I felt extremely hopeless, my body couldnt sit still and my mind would not stop racing. It was absolute hell. Thank God there wasnt a loaded gun around. This is what it was like. I was prey to misery and depression, did not have any real friends, and most of all I hated myself. I knew I could not take any more cocaine. If I did, I wouldnt be writing to you today. However, this is a disease that affects the body, mind and spirit. My mind was gone. If I was offered cocaine, I could not turn it down. I missed appointments, failed classes because of my addiction. My life had become completely unmanageable. I never thought that drinking was a problem for me too, until later. Unfortunately, whenever I drank, the mental obsession and physical craving to have drugs was so powerful, it always seemed to get the best of me. I was absolutely powerless over drinking and using. Ive described what it was like, now I will explain what happened next and what it is like now What happened is I was really feeling suicidal. I knew I could not stop. I had tried. Yet any time I was offered a drink or drug, I could not turn it down. I had work to attend to, classes to study for. My intentions were to stop and tend to these obligations, yet I could not. One more absence from my job and they were going to fire me. Plus, I was failing all my college courses, again. It was past the deadline to drop the classes. I was desperate. I heard of other students getting out of failed grades by going to a psychiatrist and being diagnosed as mentally ill. Desperate, I phoned Kaiser hospital. They put me through to the drug treatment program. They said I could go down there that day for an interview. I was so nervous. I thought I would meet with the psychiatrist and that would be that. Get the note and go. As I sat in the interview, I was asked all sorts of questions about my drug use. At first, I thought I needed to exaggerate my drug use. After all, only really bad off, low life, drug addicts were admitted to this type of program. After I told them some of my “exaggerated” story, by some miracle they allowed me to participate. The catch was I had to participate in their day treatment drug rehabilitation program and attend AA meetings to get that note from the psychiatrist to excuse me from my college classes. What an order, I had to attend Monday through Friday from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. I agreed. I had no other choice, so I thought. What I learned over time, was that for me to drink or use, is to die. I might as well end it really quickly than lead a slow, painful, insane alcoholic and/or drug induced death. As I stated earlier, my powerlessness is very evident when faced with drugs. I, on my own power, could not stop. I had to find a power greater than myself to help me resist the temptation. Time and time again, I tried to stop, made promises, yet I always failed. I had to gain power from God, or be doomed to an alcoholic death. At the AA meetings, I met a woman whose