A Teenager's Story
I am a 19-year-old recovering drug addict from south Minneapolis.
I sobered up nearly 3 years ago, and today I am living a life
I couldn't possibly imagine. I remember saying back in my using
days "It will be cold day in hell when I get sober." Furthermore,
when I was in treatment everybody said I was not going to get
sober. I proved myself and others around me wrong, and here is
my story.
I started my drug career at, more or less, the age of 13 years
old. It was all just petty stuff, smoking cigarettes, or stealing
a bottle of beer from the refrigerator. I also changed my peers.
I grew up hanging out with regular kids, not bad, but at the same
not total "goodie-goodie" either. I soon found that it was a lot
more exciting to hang out the "bad" kids. They stole from stores,
smoked cigarettes, drank a little, played hooky, and snuck out
at night. I had an attitude similar to Henry Hill (A character
in the film Goodfellas). I felt like it was cool to go
against the rules of everyday life, and it gave me a false feeling
of responsibility and maturity.
I remember the first time I smoked pot and got high. I was 13
years old. Me and a couple of friends went to play basketball
at the local park. When we started playing, a couple older fellows
stopped at the park to join in. I showed my friends a pack of
cigars I stole from the local gas station. One of the older fellows
yelled "Hey man, let me put some stuff in it." I strolled over
and handed a cigar to him. He cut open the cigar and emptied all
the tobacco. He then emptied a bag of pot onto the cigar wrapper,
and rolled it into a "blunt." He lit the blunt and said to me
"Wanna hit this a little?" I grabbed the smoking blunt, and smoked
on it for a couple of minutes. At first I did not feel anything,
but a couple of minutes later I was in paradise. I remember being
high and watching my friends play ball. It felt like I was watching
the most exciting basketball game ever. I was completely relaxed,
I had no anxiety, and I felt like I escaped normal life. It was
the best feeling in the world, and I wanted to feel this way all
the time.
By the age of 14 years old, I wasn't just hanging out with small-time
hoodlums. I was involved with people comparable to gang-bangers.
These guys sold drugs, stole cars, carried guns, and burglarized
houses. I wasn't really into carrying guns or stealing carsmy
thing was getting high as much as I possibly could. That was all
I wanted, and I didn't care about anything else. I wanted that
bliss, and I wanted the same feeling from my first high.
As I got older things really started changing. I started stealing
money from my friends and family to get pot. Through this I found
out two things about myself. (1) I needed more pot to get adequately
high (hence more money), and (2) stealing from family was not
providing an income for my habit. So I got a job, and started
experimenting with other ways to get high. I remember taking whipped-cream
cans and sucking the nitrous out of them to give me a high equal
to smoking 10 joints. By this time I was also getting high for
school, and my friends introduced me to LSD and 'shrooms. I soon
developed a daily schedule which looked like this:
Weekdays
6:30 am: Wake up
Smoke a joint walking to school
7:15-11:00 am: school
Lunch: sneak off campus and get high
Skip a couple of classes
Work
Weekends
Day: Work
Night: drop LSD or do 'shrooms, and smoke weed
I kept to this schedule for a very long time.
At this time my family life was nothing, my GPA was about 1.5,
and I was physically and mentally out of shape. I hated being
hassled by my parents about grades, curfew, and to what extent
they knew of my drug use. I could never concentrate in school.
Teachers used ask me "What's wrong with you?" Physically, I did
nothing but walk around looking for drugs or finding places to
get high. I did not participate in sports. I felt as if drugs
gave me love.
I soon started selling drugs, and tried to make a living off it.
I made a little extra cash, but soon I was caught. This was the
first, and thankfully last time I faced real punishment. I was
very lucky. I was selling at school and I managed to sell all
I had on me in the morning. I was nabbed in the afternoon. Although
they did not find anything on me, they did suspend me for paraphernalia.
The only way I could get back into school was to go to treatment,
and I did.
I hated treatment. It was boring, the counselors were mean, and
I did not get much out of it other than the fact that it sobered
me up. Sobering up automatically made me look at my life and where
it was going. I began to realize, first-hand from others experiences,
that my drug using was going to lead me to hell.
I decided to live sober at the age of 16. I never hit a very hard
bottom like most recovering addicts, but I could've. People used
to (and still) say to me "I could've saved myself a lot of pain
if I sobered up at your age." I was blessed with the maturity
to actually listen to them. I have replaced the feeling of getting
high with the clear-minded feeling of sobriety. The hoodlums I
used to hang out with are not attractive to me anymore, now I
see them as low-lifes. My role models today are people who are
truly successful. My activities when I was younger centered mainly
on getting high. Today, I am getting educated (college student),
becoming a professional kickboxer (a replacement for getting high),
and living a successful, fulfilling life. I can't believe where
I am today, and the fact I actually wrote this.
James B.
Minneapolis, MN
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