I've witnessed many horrible things throughout my years of drug usage. Done some pretty crappy things myself but having been personally around while certain things took place is like stuff out of the movies. If I wouldn't of been on drugs myself it actually might of drove me insane but soon as the drugs flowed through my veins the problems I was surrounded by melted away and I quit caring. Seeing people sell their bodies and many people over dosing became a daily thing. Upstanding citizens people you wouldn't even imagine using the dirty drugs where there buying, trading, or selling themselves just for a piece of dog food. Being sick is no joke and once you need those drugs you crave and will do just about anything to get them. I luckily kept most of my morals and never once screwed over family and close friends. Never abused women nor paid them for sex. But I've seen it all take place and I feel bad enough for that. Drug dealers prey on certain victims and if its a girl they like they will constantly feed them whatever drugs they want and then one day just up n stop. Then when they have no more money or means to get it then its time to sell their soul. Its nasty, disgusting, and I have no respect for anybody that's like that. I myself wasn't the one supplying but I did have my moments of drug dealing to support my habit. Met some of the key players that run my city and a large portion of the united states as well. I thought it was glamorous at first. The cars, the money, the women. Then a few dabs into the purity of the product i was receiving blew up in my face. Once i quit dealing and was full blown addicted i still needed money so I guess you could say I did end up managing all the different girls. Some would call it a pimp I consider it protecter. The way I saw it they was going to go do it anyway the least I could do is watch over them. I didn't control or beat anybody I just stood up for them. They're human too no matter what at the end of the day they want to feel loved too and I know the feeling so as I would comfort them they would in return comfort me. It gave me a place to stay. Instead of being homeless and stealing or robbing people I would instead setup dates, screen clients, and make sure everything went accordingly. Yes I do feel bad about the things I've done. I have a heavy heart and a conscious that keeps me awake at nights. Which brought me here to share my story to see if anybody can relate. I've lost soo many of my friends and relatives to the drug game I've ran out of fingers to count on. My mother died from cancer when I was young which sent me on a downward spiral which is how I ended up down here in case you was wondering. I dont blame my situation for the things I've done. But when you're surrounded by pain and heartache for long enough eventually you will search for something to take the pain away. Unfortunately that thing for me was heroin because its literally everywhere where I live. I don't even know what brought me to write this. Guess I was just hoping it could help somebody or give some insight into the dark world many of us addicts call home. I've done nearly every drug you can think of every way you could think of doing it. All n all the absolute most worst drug of all time I would hands down say is heroin. I've seen Farr too many good people die from it, almost die from it, kill for it, and get killed for it. I've been in some of the roughest neighborhoods you could imagine, dealt with some of the most grimey people possible, been in and out of jail, ruined a 10 year relationship, and did some things I highley regret. All for the love of the drugs. It started off with weed, then experiments with LSD led me to pills, molly, mushrooms, and everything in between. Then this little white girl got me hip to the straw, I never thought for a minute I would take it that far. I would stay strung out for days and that's what led me to Bars, mixing them with 30s crushing them down and snorting them right there in my car. Prices for pills went sky high and that's what led me to tar. I never thought for a minute I would take it that far. At first I was able to maintain, but then it got hard. I went from snorting, to smoking, to injecting it straight in my arms. By then I was on the streets without a pot to piss in. None of this would have happened if I would of just listened. My friends and family doesn't want me around for fear things will come up missing. My grandma fears the worst cause she found me unconscious after I fell out in the kitchen. Waking up in hospitals you would think is enough to make you stop. Until you get back around it and use your shoe strings to tie knots. After everyone abandons you syringes and drugs become your best friend. Its a love and hate relationship that could be your end. Many who have done it are lucky to still live. But for many more who come from broken homes, lost all self respect and self esteem they would rather overdose from that which they love so they can't ever have it again. Welcome to my life. More to the story - I used to be scared to death of needles. I wish I would have stayed that way. I've seen some horrendous events. People shooting up in their dick, vag, tit, neck, forehead, palms of your hands, feet, one guy even shot up in the vein under his tongue. Shits horrible. I've almost died 4 times. My conscious is soo deep and guilt stricken I felt the need to share my story with someone. Hopefully it will help sway you from ever doing it or if you are on it or know somebody who is could possibly help. At one point I thought I had it all. Everything I could of wanted at least at the time. And it wasn't enough. I had my own place, multiple cars, a 10 thousand dollar hydroponic kit and was growing pounds of kush, had over 20k cold hard cash, sheets of acid, pounds of mushrooms, hundreds of Ecstasy pills, hundreds of perc 30s and xannie bars, Oz's of coke, lots of guns, and had just got done having an orgy with 3 beautiful girls. A blonde, a brunette, and an Asian girl. Pretty much every guys fantasy I was living. And I clearly remember not being happy at all and was inchs away from pulling the trigger on a hot pink 38 special. Ran through my supply of percs and that's what started the chain reaction. Totaled my escalade fucked up on xannies which put a big dent in my assets, started doing h and before you know it after about 2 years I lost each and everything I had. Now I literally have a book bag and a suitcase that I can contain everything I own in it. I'm soo sad and depressed it is killing me. I just keep trying to look on the bright side that even when I was practically hood rich I still wasnt happy. Been yearning for something to make me feel whole again. Dont have the courage to let the people that's close to me know what's going on. Everybody just thinks I fell off. But the pain runs much deeper than that. Sry wasn't tryn to be a downer. I guess this is just a cry for help.