From a very young age I had a lot of anxiety issues. School was really hard for me, and I started to act out. Around 12 or 13, I started drinking and smoking pot. It became a problem almost immediately. I have heard people say that there are three phases of drug use: fun, fun with consequences, and just consequences. I totally skipped the fun part. I never got away with anything. The first time I drank I blacked out and threw up in my basement. My mom found me, and I was grounded.
Alcohol was like liquid courage. It let me take on this persona of an outspoken party girl, which at my core was not me. Under its influence, I tried ecstasy and cocaine, really anything I could find. I had a friend who knew someone with leftover prescription painkillers. We took them after school in my friend’s bathroom in April of my junior year of high school. My anxiety immediately quieted, and I stopped seeking out any other substances.
The painkillers became a daily thing. I wasn’t even interested in my friends anymore. I was skipping school a lot and getting suspended. My grades slipped. I totaled my car. My parents sent me to therapists and tried anything they could to help me. They even kicked me out of the house for a couple of days, but I came crawling back. One of my parents’ conditions was that I go to rehab. I had no choice. By November of my senior year of high school, I was in inpatient rehab.
Because it was adolescent rehab, it was half school and half rehab. It didn’t work for me. I had it in my mind that I just had to bide my time for the 60 days before I could get out and return to using. I remember a tech there telling me, “You have to pay attention or by the time you’re 21, you’re going to have a needle in your arm.” I remember thinking she was crazy. The first night I was out, I took pills and drank. I crashed my car a week after that.
I barely graduated from high school, but I made it to college in Boston. I met a guy who was into painkillers. We started using regularly together. My whole life became my boyfriend and drugs; I lived in such a small world. I was not going to class. I had no other friends in Boston.
Eventually, the drugs became a really expensive habit. Economically speaking, heroin was a better option, so we started doing heroin. The first time I shot up, I remember thinking, “That’s it. You found it. Nothing else is ever going to matter.”
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