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Rated: 13+ · Monologue · Biographical · #2243761
The first time I went into withdrawals I didn't know what was happening but I soon learned
It's so hot. My legs won't stop twitching. Why can't I get to sleep?

Then reality...the kick in the butt I thought I wouldn't get.

Arrogant...better than all those other junkies. Whose teeth showed the effect of long term use. Whose skinny bodies and hollow eyes were not the eyes I saw when I looked in the mirror.

I held myself up there as the poster boy for what a functioning addict should look like...should act like. I fooled them all...workmates, friends and family. Nobody knew the extent...very few anyway.

Only those who my use benefited. Those who didn't care about me. Only about how much profit, how much free drugs, how much they could rip me off for. They were the only ones who knew.

And I was proud...for the lies...for the amounts of the drug I could 'handle'. The money I spent on me. The self-indulgence and stupidity. The belief I had a right to treat my body like a human experiment, in what happens when you pour enough drain cleaner, mixed with acid, mixed with fuel, mixed with disappointment. For sure, there was only one person I fooled.

It's not a coincidence that drugs and disappointment both start with the letter D. I would say that to my drug 'friends', thinking I was clever, funny...witty. But, it is only now I see the truth of those words, and it makes me sick that I have been such a fool.


I have missed out on so much because of my addiction. Things I can never get back. But I do have some things going for me. Determination, belief, support, love, gratitude that I have these things...and insight into why I do drugs.

I always knew a day would come, a day of reckoning. Would it be a police raid. A bad batch shot into my veins, so as someone who loved me dearly would discover my lifeless body, and suffer something they didn't deserve. Cancer...heart disease?

The list of things that could have, that probably should have gone wrong, is a testament to how lucky...how blessed I am. To be writing this now, I do not take for granted.

Tonight, when I kissed my beautiful daughters goodnight, I didn't have the fear that some drug would pass from my lips to theirs. The love I feel when they smile at me, will be the benchmark of what I want for myself. Do I deserve that love? Will I let myself down and use again, despite what I know it will do...not just to me, but to them?

I have a dream. It's not huge, and it won't change the world. To walk my girls down the aisle. Strong enough to be the father they deserve. Someone they can set the standard for the kind of man they will fall in love with.

It's time I step up. It's time I grow up. I have used drugs since I was fourteen years old, having rolled the dice too many times for me to not see that my run has come to an end. And if I keep letting it ride, the house will win. I am happy to walk away with what I have...not a winner, but a survivor of the war on drugs.
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