10 years in the void

Hi everyone, my name is Bryce. I hope that my story will help the kids out there think about painful reality of drug addiction. Just remember this,it is not worth your life.



At age 7 my father died and later on in my life I would use this as a catalyst for my addiction. In school I knew that i was different than the other kids. I was shy and quiet and for these reasons I was an easy target.


In junior high I was introduced to pot and I fell in love with it. I started to hang out with the kids who I thought were cool because they got into trouble in school and with the law. I thought that there was something about them that I could identify with. I was no longer that shy kid who couldn't stand up for himself. I soon began to challenge authority every chance that I got.


At age 14 I was vandalizing schools, breaking into homes and fighting. I relied on breaking the law to look cool to my pot smoking friends and I relied on stealing money from people to buy my pot.


I dropped out of high school at age 15 and at this point, I was drinking alcohol. Even by then I could already feel a hole inside of me that I needed to fill to hide what I already knew, my addiction.


At age 16 I was hanging out with people a lot older than me, people that once again, I thought I could identify with. They sold crack,smoked meth and sold many drugs and I thought this was cool but I wasn't ready for these hard drugs yet.


I had heard before that if I drank a whole bottle of cough syrup, I could get high so I tried it and loved it. It numbed the pain inside of me and at the time, I felt that I needed it for that reason. I was stealing it from every store that I could. I would walk miles just to get that high.


Many times I would ride the city bus around my town while I was high on it. I puked on myself many times in front of whoever was there to see. I just didn't care anymore. I had no self respect.


I was now 17,a high school dropout, and had no friends. I was putting my mother through hell but I didn't care. I knew how bad off I was but my addiction was so strong that I didn't care.


By this time my mother had found another man and he became my step father. He cared a lot about me but I didn't know how to react to the love he had for me. My addiction was getting bad, I thought I was going nowhere in life so I took as many coricidin pills as I could wash down. I wanted to die. I was in the nut house for a week and when I got out, I was back to getting high. I had learned nothing and my trip to the hospital would be the first of many to come.


When my father died when I was 7, my mother had been granted a large sum of money and when I would be 18 I would get a part of it. At age 18 I had a 100 thousand dollars to my name and around this time I started to hang around the dope houses which I used to go to. I shot up my first shot of meth and became hooked. Shooting meth gave me a rush so strong that I thought I was god. I felt like I Needed this drug to hide away from my feelings.


Now I was a full blown drug addict and on top of that, I was addicted to the needle. I was now shooting up whatever I could get my hands on. Meth,coke,ketamine,and heroin. I was blowing all the money I had in the bank and I did not care. I had track marks up and down my arms and my mother and step father had kicked me out.


Heroin and other opiates became my drug of choice. I couldn't get out of a bed unless I had my fix and I was going to dope houses and getting ripped off a lot of the time, but it didn't matter that people would steal from me. I just didn't want to be alone.


I was 19 years old now and out of money. I went back to my old ways of stealing again to support my addiction. I was using dirty needles and I never thought twice about it. I just needed that rush and that's all that mattered.


One day I noticed an abscess on my arm and I was dope-sick and all I could think about was getting my fix. A few days went by and my arm was twice the size of my other arm and I was feeling like I could fall at any moment.I went to the hospital and the doctors said that I could die if I didn't have surgery on my arm.


I woke up with bandages around my arm and when the nurse took off the bandages, I saw a hole that was more than an inch deep and more than an inch wide. Even through all this, I kept on shooting up in the other arm. I was powerless over my addiction and one of the people who I could relate with died from an overdose.


My step father died around this time from cancer and I resented myself for not reaching out to him. He loved me so much and I took it for granted. Over the course of the next three years, I worked at many jobs to support my addiction but I would always end up losing them. I tried to kill myself 7 more times and ended up in the nut-house many more times because I overdosed many times and was trying to end my life.


I ended up walking to the city from the town that I lived in which took me two days because I lived pretty far away. In the city, I was homeless and sold myself many times to get what I needed, my fix.


Later on, I returned to my hometown to find that two more friends of mine had died from their addiction and a third had been shot and killed in a bad drug deal. Death was all around me and I still coudn't bring myself to put the needle down.


I hit my lowest point when I came to see that my addiction was far greater than I was and so I wanted to find an easy way out for the 7th time. I took 60 blood pressure pills, drank a half gallon of antifreeze and slit my throat. I was found in a bathroom, bleeding on the floor and I was rushed in an ambulance to the E.R.


I woke up to see a nurse standing over me and I'll never forget what she said: young man, you have a purpose in this life, most people would have died from what you did.


It was then that I knew I had to recover. My addiction was killing me and it was time to change so I knew what I had to do. I had to go to rehab. I learned to accept the things that I couldn't change. I found the willingness to surrender and say: I need help!


When I left rehab I started going to NA meetings. I could relate to the people in the fellowship and I began to make friends with other recovering addicts. I didn't feel alone anymore and I knew I had to face my life on its own terms. Being able to feel my feelings again could be painful at times but I now understood that I had to feel pain to grow and be human again.


Today I live a new life and I thank my fellowship for being there when I need it. I was 24 when my life of addiction ended and after 10 years in my void I was set free. I have never used since.

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Jul 26, 2012
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by: Rae

Hi,

Thanks so much for sharing your story with us. It's incredible what addiction does to us - crazy how powerful it can be. It makes us do things we never thought we would do, and things we never want to do.

It's amazing that you found a way out. I'm sorry for all of the loss you have experienced, I can only imagine how difficult that would have been. I am so happy that you found recovery, though.


When we get clean, we can do anything we want. We get our lives back and it's an incredible experience.

Thanks so much for sharing your story and congratulations on your clean time!

Rae

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