Citation: Lawgirl. "Enough Already: An Experience with Cocaine (exp69058)". Erowid.org. Apr 12, 2016. erowid.org/exp/69058
I snorted cocaine once in college. It did nothing for me. I developed a taste for it in grad school 10 years later when my boyfriend introduced smoking and banging it to me with the hope I would become addicted and then proceed to finance his habit as well. He actually admitted he wanted to 'ride the money train' even though I expressed no interest in crack.
I was able to avoid the addiction until I put the needle in my arm. It will be a monkey on my back until I die. I think of shooting it every day. I want to feel the warmth shooting cocaine provides. I want the ear ringer. I want the train I heard when he held my arm and shot the coke so fast I was terrified I would overdose. I want to see the blood return in the stupid tb syringe. I knew he had hepatitis C. We shared needles after using bleach anyway. I have no doubt I would have shared without bleach if the option became bang without bleach or don't bang at all. I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. It felt so good.
I became pregnant. I stopped for my entire pregnancy. I am one month out and want so much to shoot cocaine I can hardly stand it. I quit everything and I love my baby so much and yet I think of this bullshit drug every day. I wish I had never been introduced to banging IV cocaine. I was taught how to cook it. I could not give less of a fuck about smoking it. I want that damn drug in my vein. I want to feel my brain frying. That is what it felt like. It went up my spine and felt like my brain fried at the back in the bottom. That loud choo choo coming from far away until it was right on me. My boyfriend stood right in front of me naked because he said some people become very sexual. I was sick. Nothing sexual at all except to tell him to get the fuck away from me. I kept repeating 'oh my God' and then proceeded to continue to shoot the cocaine until it was gone. Then we got more. Then we got more. He went straight to psychosis. I was still knew enough I was not paranoid. He fucked up my high each and every time I hit a vein. He called the cops when he went into the psychosis phase. He is in jail now. He has spent a lot of time in jail. He missed his son's birth and will likely miss the first 5 years of his life. Maybe even more, because I want nothing to do with this lifestyle.
How could he have shared such a horrible addiction with me? How could he have known what this could do to my life and been willing to hold my arm and shoot it in my vein anyway? How could he have been willing to waste me for this drug? I cry a lot over what I have become. I am an addict. I will always be an addict. I cry because I love my son so much. I wonder if I can continue being clean or if my son will have to deal with an addict mom. I am sad tonight because I don't want to crave this drug. I haven't done cocaine in 8 months and all I can think of tonight is shooting coke. Thank God I am not willing to risk my life tonight. For today I am clean. The craving is strong but tonight I am stronger. I only hope I can say the same when the craving returns. It will return, trust me, it will return.
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