Hi, my name is Kay and I’m a drug addict. While the deepest parts of my problem lie in the last six months, I have to go to the beginning to make sense of it all. Around three years ago, I started to realize that I was depressed. With everything being the way it was then, I didn’t have insurance for myself, so I tried to self-medicate. I bought Xanax off the street and popped them like my life depended on it. The Xanax was enough to sate me for around a year. It was at that point that my gallbladder began to fail, and I was having pain like I’d never experienced it before. The only problem was that with me being only twenty-one, no doctor believed that I had a gallbladder problem. So they prescribed any pain pill they could. The go to was Percocet. This went on for nearly two years, and in the lulls between prescriptions I would buy the drugs where I could find them. I didn’t think I had a problem then. When I finally got a competent doctor, my gallbladder was diagnosed and removed. But still, after surgery you have pain meds, right? In the hospital they gave me morphine and Darvocet. My surgeon gave me a thirty day prescription for Perc 10s to take home, and after that was up, I begged for more. See, I was going on two years on pain pills. My tolerance to them was off the charts. I needed something stronger than Percocet… and then the perfect solution came along. I started working at one of the local restaurants at 22. While working there, I met this guy. He had access to everything I wanted. And I wanted Roxi. And boy, did he deliver. I lived off the roxi haze for quite a while. I still had my Xanax in my back pocket and I figured out that taking them together pushed me into a different dimension. It was worry free and for once in my life I felt like a person again and not a shell of myself. But, everything good like that comes to an end. I distanced myself from him because I felt myself going too far. Of course, I didn’t stop using. I started seeing a psychiatrist to see if I could obtain the drugs legally. And while he didn’t give me Xanax, he did prescribe me a benzo. So I took that as a legal vice. And it was at that point that my life went downhill. I’m not sure what happened, but I lost the man who had become my best friend. Everything was going down at the same time. So I popped my month’s prescription of Ativan and the rest of the Xanax I had on hand. For all intents and purposes, I should be dead. I still can’t explain to you why I’m not. What I do know is that I was incredibly pissed off that I was still alive. So when I got out, I did the thing I knew I shouldn’t. I started using heroin. Now I say this with a heavy heart. I’ve been addicted to opiates/opioids for a long time. But this drug… it had the power to make or break me. It turned my life inside out in six short months. It turned me into a thief, a liar, a cheat. It had me sitting in the bathroom stall at work desperately trying to shoot up before a customer walked in. It grabbed me and turned my life into something ugly. But at that point, I, quite frankly, didn’t give a ****. All I cared about was scoring another fix. Getting another shot. I’d work my ass off and volunteer to work extra hours if it meant more dope money. And I got in tight with my dope family. I care about them to this day, but I’m glad I’m not living the life they are. I broke my foot while I was high. That’s how my family learned about my drug use. I didn’t really care that they knew, the break just made it more difficult to get my drugs. The Percocet that I was prescribed was child’s play at that point. Only heroin could make it better. And towards the end of my addiction cocaine reared its ugly head. I’m glad I never got too attached to it. As of now, I’m just trying to lead a substance free life. And I’m glad I have such a strong support system in this community and in this house to help put me back on track.