| DOSE: |
repeated |
|
Cocaine
|
(powder / crystals) |
It started several months ago. I was sixteen at the time, living in New York state, and enjoying the summer before my junior year in high school started. Up until the first time I did coke my drug intake was limited, Mushrooms, alcohol, and weed were my expertise. I never saw myself as a cocaine user, I was all about tripping, smoking, and just partying around with friends. That all changed after my first few run-ins with cocaine.
Heaven. It may sound ridiculous but it is the only word to describe my first experience. A friend's sister hooked us up with a gram of some quality coke, and drove us to her friends house were everyone was blowing lines. I can't say for sure how much I did, but I'd say I blew a half gram to my face that night. It was everything I wanted in a drug. It was subtle yet amazing. I could still function, but the euphoria and confidence boost was out of this world. I still remember that first drip, the taste almost made me throw-up, and yet I craved for it. I loved the numbness, I loved all the conversation it allowed, and I love flying 100mph in my friends Audi. I felt invinsible. Nothing could bring me down. I didn't have any bad come downs my first few times. I'm not sure why, but I guess it was due to the fact that I thought I found my dream drug.
The next couple weeks flew by faster than I ever thought possible. I was still smoking a lot of pot, and me and my friends would buy coke every friday to jump start our weekends. I thought coke was the bomb. At this time, it wasn't taking over my life, robbing my bank account, and rapping my personality... it was just a fun thing to do on the weekends.
Fast forward a couple weeks. Cocaine became an everyday thing. I would wake up, go to school, get out as early as possible, go to my dealers house, and blow lines with her. I was shocked to find out how many people in my school were into powder. I had a large spending account at the time, and I was putting an easy $60 up my nose a day. I still didn't care at this point in time. My bank account supported my habit, my friends were into it, my nose started getting fucked up but I didn't even care.
School started back up and things started getting out of control. My bank account was gone. It's funny how fast you can spend thousands of dollars. I started chasing the high. I somehow managed to buy a half gram a day. I started selling my shit, stealing from kids, ripping people off, whatever I could do for money. I could no longer breathe. I couldn't drink anything because there was to much snot in the back of my throat. My comedowns started to get worse. I would get depressed and paranoid. The only time I was happy was when I was doing coke or thinking about it. I disassociated myself with a lot of people. A few of my friends stopped before they got to this stage, and a few were right along side with me. My parents got my bank statement and flipped. I couldn't explain to them how I could spend a small fortune in the matter of two months.
I took a few breaks from my infatuation. Sometimes I'd go a whole week without blowing a line. It wasn't because I didn't want to do it, it was just because I ran out of funds. I took a step back and realized that in a matter of two months cocaine robbed a lot from me. It opened me up to an aspect of drugs I never knew before. I'm not going to say I was 'addicted', but I was damn sure loving every line I did. Luckily, before things got to out of control, I found the will to stop using. Well... cut down at least. I went back to doing it on weekends, sometimes every other weekend. That was a few months ago, and I've managed to keep my usage to every other weekend up until this date. I have a friend who is still deep into the game. He's a reck. He must have spent a good ten grand on his addiction. He's failing out of school, he lies, he steals, and he has no friends. He was a shell of the person he once was.
