My life story -christina
“ In my earliest memories there are two things that always stand out to me; 1) I was a total daddy’s girl, 2) I was painfully shy. I remember being five or six years old in church. My dad would hold me in his arms so that I could hide my face in his shoulder.
Soccer was a huge part of my life. My dad was almost always my coach. I was always one of the better players on my teams and that helped me build my confidence and be more comfortable around people. The sport consumed my life, I played, travel, school, all-star, rec and even the pre-Olympic league. I would have had a real shot at playing in college and getting a scholarship had it not been for drugs.
In fifth grade I met my best friend Christine. In doing so I was unknowingly beginning my cycle of dysfunction and drug use. We bonded over mutual depression and social anxiety. Her issues stemmed from a horrible home life, a drug addict mother and no father. My came from my fathers diagnosis of lung cancer, my horrible relationship with my mother, my brothers personal trauma, social abnormality and my overwhelming shyness. Now as a young adult I know I was and am bipolar. My dad always acted like nothing was wrong but that was far from the truth.
At fourteen Christine’s mom bought a bottle of champagne for my birthday, my first experience with alcohol. About a year later I started trying bigger and better drugs. Christine and I had out first boyfriends. One day she came over with her boyfriend and a baggy of coke. At the time I was about to start high school. My parents were forcing me to go to a catholic school. I hated anything to do with religion and in an act of rebellion, I snuck out of school and did coke with them that day. I was hooked. Soon I was going to soccer games high, stealing from my mom to get drugs, and smoking weed and taking xanax to come down. When my boyfriend found out he dumped me and I stated dating my brothers friend and dealer, Shea.
A few months before my sixteenth birthday my father passed away. After three years of living with one lung his disease had finally beaten him. I was devastated, lost, and relieved all at once. It horrible to watch him suffering everyday. The day he died my brother and his friends met me at the bus stop. I immediately knew what had happened. At home my whole family was there, the all rushed to me and wanted to hold me and cry but ran to the bathroom, turned the shower on an cried for hours. I could never show my emotions as a child. The funeral and the viewing all seemed unreal, like a dream I would wake up from.
In the following weeks I dropped out of school and stopped playing soccer. My told me that if I didn’t go to school I had to get out, so I moved in with my new boyfriend. We lived in the ghetto and sometimes we had to steal for food. We had all the drugs we could use and did ecstasy at least once a week. I had a close call with an overdose of oxy and coke that almost killed me. I couldn’t get out of bed for a week and vomited blood several times.
One night the guys we lived with and Shea, all went out to steal cars and I stayed home to clean. I waited for hours but they never came back. That night everyone was arrested and I had to find a new place to live. Going home to mom was not an option. I slept on the street for two nights while walking to Christine’s. When I finally made it I was starving and exhausted. I lived with her for a few months, then my uncle and a few more. My overdose had sobered me up some. So I wasn’t really using that much and I stayed far away from any kind of pain killers. While living with my uncle I got my first job and decided I wanted to try and make things right with my mom and go back to school and get my high school diploma. We made things work for a little while and I graduated and took a few college classes at PBCC. I smoked pot and used drugs but not as heavily as before.
A few years later I injured my foot pretty badly and the Dr. prescribed me some pain killers. I started to really enjoy the high I got from them by twenty I was taking them about once a week. I graduated from Percocet to Roxy’s I was working full time as a vet tech- my dream job and had a new boy friend named Matt. One day while on my way to work I totaled my care on I-95 a few days after that one of my best friends, Steve, overdosed and died. We were really, really close, he even taught me how to drive after my father passed. I took his death really hard, I started using heavily. My once a week habit turned into an everyday thing. Roxy’s were the only thing that made me feel better and my boyfriend was only making the situation worse we lived to get high.
I got my own apartment and supported both of us. I paid for food, clothes, rent, gas, my car payment and both of our drug habits. It wasn’t long before I couldn’t afford it anymore, we moved in with his parents, and soon after I found out he had been cheating on me, stealing from me, and getting drugs with my money without me. I broke up with him and he threatened to kill me and my mom and god and was arrested for doing so.
After going through all of this I started doing Roxy’s in way I never had. Smoking pills was my new thing I even tried shooting them. I lost my job, all of my good friends, and had absolutely no relationship with my mom. I tried several times to get clean on my own, I even checked into Columbia Hospital, unaware that it was a mental health unit. It was traumatizing. I relapse even harder and could never seem to stay sober for more than a month. I was so depressed I lost about 15 lbs, couldn’t sleep or eat, and stole from my mom, borrowed money from everyone I knew and hated myself.
Finally one afternoon, I was horribly dope sick and I decided I would ask my mom for help one last time. Thankfully she went online and found Synergy Group Services, Inc. It was the perfect timing because I was close to giving up on life and never though I would be able to stay sober. Now, after years of falling backwards, I can finally feel like I am taking a few steps forward. 22 days sober.”