Live Free or Die Hard

Memba Ben By Memba Ben, 8th Jan 2017 | Follow this author | RSS Feed | Short URL
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Personal Experiences

My obligatory "stay away from drugs" tale. I hope it helps people just how bad drug use can get. Big ups to the people who are continuing their abstinence from drugs, especially seeing how easy they can draw you in and bigger ups to the people who have walked away from drug addiction.

A time in my past when drugs were the only thing that mattered…

I once heard someone say that you become an adult when you discipline yourself for your own good, rather than do whatever you want because no one can call you out on it.

I learned that the hard way when I left home to forge my own path. All that freedom was intoxicating, to the point where I had begun to lose sight of my original goals. I could now go out and come back whenever I wished, drink, and meet new people; all that power in the hands of a naïve, young person such as me was a dangerous thing.

A couple of years passed by and I was so caught up in “living in the moment” that I paid no attention to the fact that the moment was about to become something which I had not wanted.

I’d like to use an analogy of a caged bird to further exemplify what I felt. See, all that the bird ever wanted to do was to spread its wings and fly and once the bird got out, it flew around and was content with life. However, having that much freedom to fly around made the bird realize that having that much freedom to fly around is not all that it cracked up to be.

When the moment ended, I was struggling as I had to readjust to living an appropriate life. See, living responsibly was boring and I couldn’t stand it. I had a taste of the good life and I needed more.

Enter heroin.

In the beginning, I loved heroin and had no will to stop. Once I took a hit and that warm, fuzzy feeling swept over me, I knew that I had found what I was looking for.

This is where the problem began.

See, Heroin works in a way that once you become addicted to it (which doesn't take long); you need it just to function. After a while, that was what kept me going back for more. It wasn’t the high; it's the need to stop the withdrawals and to be able to function.

My girl had come into my life and changed it in such an extreme manner that and sobriety became unbearable. Heroin just felt so good that eventually, you wouldn't want to do anything but heroin. I started feeling like I needed my girl to remain at the level of consciousness I wanted. I thought I could remain there if I just used her regularly.

This led into me taking huge doses every day.

I became a shell of a person. I sold everything I owned just to keep seeing her. My life revolved around her. I would literally wake up, and prepare a hit. After the hit, I would either go to work, or I would fall into what I called a “coma sleep”. I thought it wasn't an issue because I thought that I still looked good, and maintained what I thought were "normal" relationships. This couldn’t be further from the truth as EVERYTHING in my life fell apart because I was paying attention to only one detail of it.

And worst of all, I was anxious all the damn time as I knew that as good as the high was, my time with her would be running out.

At that point, she was the only thing worth living for as she took all the dark thoughts but deep down, I knew that what she was giving me was short periods of temporary relief until I got to the point where there would be no relief at all.

The one day, reality came knocking.

For the first time, as I finished up the last bit of heroin I had left, I wasn't enjoying it. I was high out of my mind, as numb as I could ever want to be and I was sad. It felt like there was a hole in my chest but it was impossible to get high enough to fill the hole.

It was then that everything came crashing down. The denial of my situation, lying to myself about how things will get better, everything just came to light.

I wasn’t some caged bird looking to spread its wings; I was a dumb bastard who sought out “freedom” by running away from growing up and instead became a slave to heroin.

It got real bad.

At some time in every addict’s life, they come to the point where they either choose to clean up their act, or go deeper into the rabbit hole.

I came to the conclusion that seeking her just wasn’t worth the effort and decided to turn my life around but when I did that, I also came to learn that drug use is similar to a bank loan in that you can borrow that excitement, but you have to pay it tenfold.

The withdrawal was hell.

Because I was homeless and penniless, I had no choice but to cold turkey that muthafucka. It took three tries and having to endure the diarrhea, runny nose, cold sweats, watery eyes, vomiting, restless legs, feelings of hopelessness, and the fucking back aches but I made it to the finish line…well somewhat.

Every time I look in the mirror; I see her effects on me. I look weather beaten. I look like fucking death and my eyes are just empty pits.

And yet, despite going through all that, I still found it to be the happiest I’d ever been.

Because of the amounts of heroin I was using and my drop in tolerance from withdrawal, I know that I simply can’t afford to have one last hookup.

I have to live with the knowledge that my next dose will kill me.

With that, I find myself stuck between a rock and a hard place because while the idea of dying does scare me, the idea of living without her scares me more.


Drug Addiction, Drugs Abuse, Heroin, Heroin Abuse, Heroin Addiction, Personal Experience

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author avatar Memba Ben
Just want to thank you folks for taking the time to read my articles!

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