It's 4 Real: Drug Addiction 

 Do you have a drug addiction story? Has drug abuse effected you, your famliy, or a friendship? Maybe it's you who was the addict, maybe it was a friend, maybe it was a family member...whatever the case may be we want to hear about it. SO SEND US YOUR STORY! You can send us your story anonymously or with your name by email:

or visit our myspace and send it to us in a message at:

Real people, real stories, reality!

 True story about meth addiction.


I grew up in Goldbar, Washington with my mom, stepdad, and younger brother. My mom and her husband at the time bought a restaurant and they were always gone since it was such a demanding buisness. I was home alone a lot and could do whatever I wanted. I loved movies and I loved role play. I idolized rockers and the hard-core lifestyle they lived and I wanted to be apart of it. I would sneak out to parties on the weekends and one thing led to another and I tried my first line of meth. I was only 15 at the time, and some kids offered it to me at a party. I was crious about drugs, so it was an easy sell. That one line of meth started me on a path of getting high at school and then eventually dropping out all together. Classes interfered with my drug life. What I thought was normal behavior was not normal at all. I was 17, outof control, addicted to drugs, and in the midst of all this, I became pregnant with my son, Isaiah. All I wanted to do was hang out and get high-and I could never get high enough. Sometimes I would be up for days, smoking constantly. When I'd finally come down, I was totally depleted. I would barely get out of bed for weeks . I even tried to stay sover at one point. I got a job at a local gas station to support myself, but after a month I started using again. I couldn't hold my job because I was too sick and too high to function. My boyfriend was a meth cook, which made it easy for me to abuse the drug. I was living on the doorstep of death everyday, almost unknowingly because I had no idea how toxic and explosive the chemicals used to make meth were at the time. We lived wherever he could cook meth-in the woods, camping in tents or in trailers, even under traps in a hollowed out tree trunk. Isaiah sadly remembers this time, and he'll say "I didn't have my own room, but I had my own tent." I tried to lead a regular life, but I found that on meth, even the simplest things were impossible. My apartment looked like someone had taken everything I owned, shook it up and dropped it on the floor. I could barely walk through the piles of garbage, dirty dishes, clothes, & knickknacks. I never ate or slept. I was severely thin because I wasn't taking care of myself at all. I'm 5'7", and at one point I was about 110 pounds. I was also once hospitalized with a kidney infection. Isaiah was also living among this filth and neglect. I really did want the best for my chils, and on meth I simply could not be a mother. I was angry and irritable all the time, constantly aggravated, frustrated, yelling, and screaming. I chased an ex-boyfriend down with an ax and even tried to kill myself on the train tracks. I know many women who've had their children taken away, even mothers who chose to give their kids up to the system. I know women who have literally lost their minds because of meth and I was becoming one of them. I had no patience-especially for my own son. It was with this realization that I knew I hat to change my life. I went home to live with my mother and get clean. I tried to get my boyfriend to come to rehab with me, bu my efforts failed. I also went to the state to find mental health help and I went in for a drug and alcohol assessment. After going through this, the woman running the program left it up to me to do some outpatient treatment, and it changed my life. I took recovery seriously and attended as many 12-step meetings as possible-sometimes five meetings a day-anything to get me through it without using. I also joined a program that taught me basic life skills. I lived at a center for nine months, taking classes on budgeting and parenting. The idea of being self-suficient was mind-boggling. I was terrified to even set a goal for myself. At first, I hated the daily chores and meeting curfew, but then I started to get it. In exchange for room and board and support, following the rules was a small price to pay for a chance at a new life. I am now going back to school and working part-time. My case manager meets with me once a week to set and review my goals and with her support, I have achieved many of them. i am also taking the absolute best care of my son. We finally have our own home and for the first time in his life, Isaiah has his own room. When I sit down to pay my bills, I'm just so grateful. Paying my bills every month means that I am responsible adult and mom. My dream is to complete school and support Isaiah without any assistance. I am so lucky to have a second chance. When I look at my son, I am so proud. I know that I'll be there for him. That's something could never promise him before. I am someone that he can depend on. I have the direction to achieve great things-and I will! In the beginning, meth gave me a feeling of euphoria. In the end, it just made me feel hollow and empty. Now I want to inspire hope in the families who know someone with an addiction like mine. People get stuck, and it's important to give them hope to get out of it. Don't give up-miracles happen everyday.--MINDY MCCONNELL

True story about addiction

Overcoming Drug Addiction & Abuse--True Story

Addiction is a scary thing. It is scary because on some level you know you have lost control, and humans by nature want to be in control. Of course the addicted person will deny this feeling of losing control and will probably do everything they can to convince you otherwise, but inside they know and it is a scary feeling.

Addiction can be to many things: street drugs, prescription drugs, alcohol, nicotine, sex, food, playing the role of victim, and much more. But no matter what form of addiction you are experiencing, it all stems from the same core: a feeling of low self-worth. In other words, somewhere inside of you is pain and hurt. Someone once said you are worthless, stupid, can't do anything right, are in the way, won't amount to much, or a host of other negative, devastating comments that you accepted as a truth. It most often occurs in childhood when you are impressionable and believe what you are told. Sometimes these things are said with the intent to hurt you while other times they may be uttered without thought or understanding what the treacherous consequences can be.

My own pain first surfaced when I was a teenager. It is oftentimes such a difficult time in life because things are changing so rapidly and parents don't always agree with their teens ideas and wishes. I experienced this and as I tried to spread my wings a bit, my parents continually clipped them and the name "rebellious" was attached to me. I felt I wasn't being heard but was instead being told there was only one way to do things and I had better do them correctly or I'd be in trouble. I do believe parents need to give their children guidelines that must be followed, but parents also need to listen to their children and extend to them unconditional love. However, as we know, that doesn't happen all the time.

I did get through those years but uncomfortable things were happening in my physical body, things like anxiety, nervousness, sleeping problems, and something doctors called a spastic colon. It would come and go and I took some OTC as well a prescription drugs to help with these things. Some of the symptoms disappeared but others hung around. College was completed and marriage began. Things seemed okay for the most part and then came the babies. Now I loved being a mom and couldn't wait to have children, but somehow not everything in the marriag was happening as I thought it would. So now there was friction here and there, teaching piano lessons five days per week for added income, plus severel children(eventually five in all), and lots of stressors. I would take tranquilizers at times as well as Librium to calm down my spastic colon, but when I learned we were moving several states away from family and friends, I received a prescription for Valium, even though I was in the first trimester of my third pregnancy.

My new doctor had a hissy fit when he learned what I was taking and refused to give me any more-never good to do when pregnant I learned. I had no choice but to stop cold turkey and get off the tranquilizers. After three weeks or so of shakes, insomnia, crying, poor appetite, and horrific anxiety, I began to feel closer to normal again and life became more enjoyable as I welcomed another little one into our family.

Life went on, and I was busy with five childen, piano teaching, church pianist, and many things like garening, sewing, decorating, and the usual cooking, cleaning, chaufferuring kids, etc. But as my older kids began to leave the nest it hit me that soon they would all be gone and waht would I have left. My marriage was less than desirable, I had lost my interest in piano teaching, the kids had been my life and would no longer be around, and I kept getting this scary, sinking feeling inside that my life was not going to hold much good soon. I couldn't shake it even though people praised me for my accomplishments all the time. What was wrong with me I would say to myself? Why am I not happy? Why am I sensing doom and gloom around me?

A homeopathic doctor gave me one dose of a remedy for my stress, saying this would help me overcome these feelings. But instead of what he promised, I exploded, like a time bomb. It was as if I had a nervous breakdown in one twenty-four hour period. Little did I know that my life journey was about to halt as it was and do an about face into a totally neww direction.

It took me a total of five years to heal from that experience in my life. I  couldn't get a grip on things so I resorted again to tranquilizers, this time Xanax. It allowed me to function but I could see I was needing more to keep somewhat even-keeled, and that I didn't like. Since I had been studying alternative health modalities and treatments in recent years, I searched for answers in alternative health. I slowly weaned my off the Xanax and substitued this for safe, herval remedies that did work for me over time. But I also learned on my healing journey that every physical disorder appears due to an emotional core, and as I researched more into this phenomena, I saw the truth in this.

What I uncovered was my attachment, or addiction if you will, to playing the part of a victim. Every time I told my sad story of my unhappy marriage or mentioned so-in-so had done to me, that person would feel sorry for me so I'd get their sympathy, and continually recounting the story to people kept me in a constate state of upheaval and unrest. I later learned that every time you share a story it gains poser and increases in intensity, so I was continually reinforcing my negative state.


I Felt Good About Myself When I finally Became Clean

I am 20 years old in college. I hung around the wrong crowd in high school. I used to smoke a lot of pot everyday, cocaine, and taking pain pills. I thought all of this was going to relief my problems, but it only got worse. I thought I was never going to get off. I always wanted to do more when things got to me. The person that helped me out through everything is my brother. He stuck right by my side. Everyone kept saying, "you can get off of it if you want to," but they really don't understand. Everytime someone kept saying something about me and my drug problem I would just do more everyday. When my brother finally got me help the new life was different. It was hard making friends that didn't do drugs, because they look at you like you're a drug addict. I felt good about myself when I finally became clean. Living this new life feels good and my self-esteem is better.--anonymous

I Wish I Never Started

My name is Jessica. I am a 17 year old female and I used to be a drug addict. I started using it at the age of 14 and it just got worse. I thought it was cool when I first tried it and then i did it again thinking I was not gonna be addicted to it. I started out with smoking pot and I statred taking prescription pain killers then it got worse when I got hooked on cocaine. I got really sick. I was depressed when I came down and wanted more. I decided then that I had to stop, I had lost everything, my boyfriend, I quit my job, and I dropped out of school. I went clean for about a month but then started using again. I am still using it, but only once in a while. I wish I could just quit but I can't it's hard, very hard. I am doing a lot better now. I have not used since last month and maybe I won't touch it again. I am trying my best and I wake up every morning wondering if I am gonna use today and at night when I come home and get ready for bed and haven't used it I feel sooo good about myself. Please don't ever use drugs, it's not worth it. I wish I never started.--anonymous

They Weren't Really Good Friends

My name is James and I am 16 and live in Sydney, Australia. I would firstly like to congradulate you on the web page, as well as shedding some light on the battle against drugs. Nine months ago my best friend went into drug rehabilitation, he was using everything except heroin. Everything from pot to pills to cocaine. He was a mess, but I still tried to support him. I too used to smoke pot and snort with him, however, I have not done drugs since the 19th of April this year. I remember this date because it is the day my life changed. I know my life is better now but I feel sad, I miss my mate Chris. I wish I helped him more than I did. On Thursday of last week I visited his house to wish his parents a Happy Christmas. They told me to get lost and they never wanted to see me again and that Chris still thinks about drugs. That hurt me, I cried. I felt like smoking pot or getting some speed. But I knew I must never touch it again. I cannot remember who said it but it was in a movie "One hit is too much, but a thousand will never be enough." Every person should be open to their parents and peers. The only person that should judge us is God(and I'm not religious) parents should support us, and if they have any suspicion they should be open enough to congront their child in a friendly way. Chris and I did not receive this treatment, this is why Chris, and nearly me too, went down the wrong path and got stuck down there. Today all of my friends still do drugs. I am not as good a friend a I used to be with them, but it makes me wonder why I was really friends with them. Was it because they respected me and like me as a person or was it because I could help them out with drugs sometimes? I think it is the latter. I don't know why I wrote here. I still miss Chris but it was good to get it off my back. When I tell people of my depression and desire for more drugs they say they don't care.--Chris


Wanna read more of these stories go to:


Make a Free Website with Yola.