My story,treatment. For my now 27th time (by Anonymous )

Posted: January 7, 2015 in Uncategorized

At 16 years old I began smoking Marijuana with my friends. Immediately the mode switched from smoking it to, smoking and selling it. I fell from the top ten percentile of students in my school academically to rarely showing up. In hindsight it feels like overnight we went from smoking weed to buying heroin in brooklyn. Now buying heroin for us quickly became an everyday thing. I didn’t care to wait to get sick, I was more interested in getting high. Day after day, year after year we would continue on making the daily trek of finding, copping, and using heroin. The people around me changed frequently, but I didn’t care. I now had one daily focus, no matter what I would get that bundle. I remember the first time I got locked up on the corner of archer Ave and sutphin Blvd at 7 am. I spent 3 days in central booking, and on the third day I found myself back on that same corner buying heroin. My thought process was, from now on I will use mass transit when I go to buy my dope. Day after day I would cop the dope, walk across the street to the Duane Reade buy one syringe, and immediately head upstairs to the air train bathroom and get high. Even on the days they weren’t selling individual syringes I would buy a ten pack and throw 9 away. I disposed of the other 9 because in my mind I actually believed that this would be my last time getting high. Always underestimating the gorilla on my back, I was convinced that I knew what i was doing. A few more arrests, no big deal, I would think. The last time I was arrested they said no bail, send him to rikers island. I remember arriving at rikers island, and thinking “wow I am not like these people”. I was one of say 7,000 heroin addicts on rikers island.A few more attempts at treatment in new york, and by a few I mean 18. Now at this time u weren’t covered under parents insurance till u were 26 unless u were a student. Being a student had become a distant memory at this point. I wasn’t like kids who went to school. I wasn’t like anyone I felt. I wasn’t even like the guys in the meetings. This guy is a loser I would think to myself. I am supposed to take advice from this guy? “Get the fuck outta here.” Miraculously I got a week clean, staying at my cousins house in the poconos, and my phone rang. Con Edison was on the other line saying that I had scored a 100 on a test I had taken 2 years prior and that they wanted me to come to Manhattan for a physical. I went, got the job, and now things would be different. Now Kevin had a real job, with a pension, with a 401k, with stock options, and major medical. Then I got my assignment.East new york, brownsville, and Bushwick. The heroin capital of nyc. Back to the races. I would cop heroin during my training, I can remember them showing me around the neighborhood and me playing stupid like I had never been there before. I knew that neighborhood better than they did. 2 years later 2 more attempts at treatment and in April of 2012 I received employee of the month. Great right? In may of 2012 I was fired for substance abuse. With nothing left to do, I did what I always did. I got high. I bought as much heroin and cocaine I could get my hands on and began shooting myself to the moon. Now when. I say the moon what I really mean is to the back of fdny ambulances, because every time i would overdose they’d find me and wake me.up with narcan. Family at this point was done. Actually they had been done for years. I was always theType to get Clean, get right to the point of getting my life back, and crumble. I mean without fail every fuckin time this would happen. So somewhere around this time I ended up In Miami and I realized how great the cocaine was. I got tired of being a heroin addict, and I fell in love with shooting cocaine. With this I really started to see the evil that addiction comes packaged with. My record was shooting an ounce of cocaine in aweek. I remember going deaf for hours at a time, being unable to speak, crawling on the floor in motel rooms in the dark and shooting myself again and again thinking a swat team was outside my door. I’m talking pure fuckin insanity beyond anything u would ever want to see. I would hide everything, and forget where I hid it. I would ask a question and before u would answer I would say shhh they’re listening. I would use heroin to comeDown, but it was all hopeless at this point. I was on a mission to end it all, but God had other plans for me. My best friend seized in front of me, hit his head and began dying on the floor of a train station bathroom. I knew my addiction had completely destroyed the person I once was when I looked at him taking his last breaths and all I wanted to do was take one more shot then help him. And I stood there and thought and God came into my heart, and I threw the syringe In the toilet, dragged him out, called 911 and began doing cpr. He lived, and I left. I went to detox, and then treatment. For my now 27th time. And I was miserable, and I hated myself, but I was done. Completely broken, and sick and tired of being sick and tired, I just shut the fuck up and I listened. I met a pastor at the gym the treatment center would take us to, and we began to train every morning. He would teach me about theBible, and then he would just keep building me up. Everyday, treating me like I was his son. Telling me positive things everyday. Building me up, until I believed it myself. This man turned a fire on inside me that I didn’t know existed. He filled my heart with love, and he just told me that I could be whatever I wanted in life. I never would have thought that my greatest teacher, role model, and father figure would have been a black pastor who I met in In a gym. But he was. it was in one word… fate. He told me “Kevin, your job in this world is to protect people, and help people. You need to do this” so I listened, and this month I will have 8 months clean. The end

tha Auther is in His 20s and asked to remain anonymous

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