This next part takes place around February 13, 2013

Once again, I awoke in a strange place unsure where I am, how I got there or even who these people were crammed into this small two bedroom house. They all seem to know me, maybe not by name but they aren't all wondering who I am. Something I became too familiar with over the years has happened again. Waking up with no memory of what happened in the past few days. But did that scare me ? Make me rethink the current direction of life ? Nope. Maybe, at some dark, secret spot in my mind it frustrated me. Being in the grips of addiction at this time for 13 years, I was welcoming a successful overdose. Something to free me. Something to ultimately free my family.

So I did what I learned to do best after attempting to reconstruct the past couple days. I got high. Even if I didn't have to play detective, I would have gotten high anyways. When I think about why I would use after having time clean, two things come to mind. 1) I stopped ( or never started ) working a program, which means I never had any of the miracles of recovery take place in my life. 2) Simply, I wanted to get high. For most addicts, after using for so long, drugs don't get you high. They got me completely, sobering normal. I didn't nod, I didn't itch. I did get mad seeing others that way, but once physically addicted, I was using because I wanted to be normal. I too like to eat and sleep.

Speaking of sleeping. I turned down crack cocaine the first, eh, maybe 5 times it was offered. Oh, wait wait, back up. That mysterious house I woke up at, that was a crack house. Now, you can probably imagine a crack house. Dirt on the floor, month old dishes in the sink, nothing but molded bread and dried up peanut butter in the fridge. So, I politely declined the offer of crack and went about my heroiny ways, because I'm not going to smoke crack, are kidding me ? And be like you drug addicts ? I don't want to live like your living. Even though I was living like that. Then one day, I decided to try it, how bad can it be ? In all honesty, I thought it would be a lot for intense. And I really didn't care for it. But that doesn't mean I spent the next year smoking crack and shooting heroin everyday. Oh, wait, yea it does. Then I was introduced to a lovely cocktail called a speedball. Which for me, that means heroin and crack in the same syringe. I don't know what caused me to try it the first time. But I found my new love. From the time I started smoking/shooting crack and shooting dope all day, it took less than one year for me to be living on the streets of Rockford, in the coldest winter of my life.

MORE TO COME ABOUT MY STRUGGLES WITH ADDICTION AND LIFE