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Stories
& Poems Archive
Stories
& Poems
Living
the Life as a Junkie's Wife
By
Mrs Ives
Our
little secret, no one to tell, my life is becoming a living hell
The
things that go on behind the closed door, all to enable my husband to
score
The
untruths and deceit by now I can tell, my life has become a living
hell
Never
any money always so poor, off to the bathroom for just a bit more
Things
in his pocket, his socks and his shoes, all to enable my husband to
use
Needles
and pins collapsing his veins and down in the toilet blocking the
drains
All
up his arm another scab and a bruise, this nasty brown shit a race I
will lose
Our
little secret, no one to tell, my life is becoming a living hell
Lovely
clean shirts with blood on the sleeve, as I do the washing I’m
starting to heave
He
told me he’d stopped but the signs say not true, he’s carrying on
like I haven’t a clue
If
I try to address it he’ll get up a leave, I’m really not sure what
this will achieve
He’s
being unreasonable what should I do, he’ll say ‘it’s not me
it’s a problem with you’
A
whole load of rubbish and a pack ok lies, just take a look at his
pinned out blue eyes
When
sleeping at night he twitches and fits, the reason for this is all of
the hits
He
tells me with passion how hard he try’s, at the end of the day he
just wants the highs
Our
little secret, no one to tell, my life is becoming a living hell
Keep
finding things he’s tried to hide, my spoons have gone missing I
knew that he’d lied
He’s
going to die he’s killing himself, I’ve been so worried he’s not
in good health
You
blame it on others because they have died, but it’s only you
you’re taking for a ride
Could
be so happy you should see the wealth, of not being out and left not
on the shelf
Gone
up the road says ‘be back real soon’, more often than not he’s
after the moon
For
hours and hours he will be gone, won’t answer the the phone the ring
just goes on
When
he gets back he says ‘just seen a mate’, but the truth of it is is
there people to hate
Our
little secret, no one to tell, my life is becoming a living hell
Our
little secret, no one to tell, my life is becoming a living hell
It’s
true what they say when they say drugs wreck lives, these are the
words from your wife
Mrs
Ives
December
2007
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My
Story
By
Danielle
This
is my story, please share my story if it helps one person it
will of all been worth it.
I
dabbled with heroin a bit with my husband back in 98. His best friend
'Z' who was the best man at our wedding, was a heroin addict and to
the best of my knowledge still is to this day. Well me and my
husband quit completely when I got pregnant with our first child
together and did not touch it again until after the birth of our 3rd
child. Our infant died April 30th 2002 due to SIDS.
My
husbands mother invited 'Z' to the baby's funeral which was May 5,
2002. My husband left that night with his friend 'Z' and did not
return until the next night high. The grief and pain that we
were going through was unimaginable, I could not understand why after
turning my whole life around and devoting all my time effort and love
into raising my children that God would do this to me, it was tearing
me apart, I wanted some relief so I left with him that night to a
motel.
I
did 2 shots, my last one at about 1:30am I looked over to him and told
him we needed to go to bed so we could be home to be with the children
I had one from a previous who was 4, then we had together a 2, and a 1
year old, and our 1 month and 6 day old infant who had passed.
I
came to about 11 AM, I remained in the same position all night. I
am not sure what happened that night and why God spared me, if I
passed and was sent back or what, it baffled the doctors why I
remained in the same position all night long.
My
husband had died on my right upper arm where I consequently suffered
severe nerve damage. When I woke up my arm was paralyzed, and I
suffered a subdural hematoma on my head this was due to my head being
turned on my left side and not moving all night it caused my
whole face to swell from the pressure on the brain. I was still
nodding in and out and hours had passed from my last shot. I was taken
to the ER where they administered Narcan. I was dubbed a drug
addict, so even though I was in severe pain they would not administer
any pain meds. now mind you this was one time that I used since
98 ,so I want people to know it takes one time to die.
I
stayed away from the drugs until about a year and a half ago when I
got hooked on prescription pain killers and after my company closed I
could not afford those any more see I began buy them off the street so
I was spending about 5 to 7 hundred dollars a month on them then I
turned back to the heroin, snorting at first and then I began to
shoot it again.
I
have been battling with this demon heroin and cocaine for the past 2
months trying to get off and regain some type of normalcy in my life.
some days I believe death would be an easier way out but then I think
of my beautiful innocent children who by the way now are 10,8,7 and I
have an almost 2 year old with my fiancée who I met 2 years ago who
is not a user at all. This will probably be a lifetime battle for me,
The shadow of my husbands and infants death follow me everywhere, I am
hurting my family, friends, everyone who knows and loves me.
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Heroin
- My Story
By
Angela
Johnny
and I got together in March of 2001. We really hit it off and
became pretty serious pretty quickly. We told each other our “I
love you” within months and basically became a “perfect couple” at
a rapid pace. I met his mother, he met my parents and we were
staying over each other’s houses nightly, if not every other night.
We were both 19 years old.
I
was a straight-edged sophomore in college working towards my elementary
education degree working part time at Wal Mart. Johnny also worked
at Wal Mart, but he worked full time, and that is where we met. On
one of our first dates, I bought Xanax from my neighbor for him because
he said he needed something to help him sleep. I had no idea what
I was enabling.
The
weeks turned into months, and months into years and in 2003 we were
still together and I saw him as the man I was going to marry.
Towards the middle of the year I noticed that the people he was hanging
around were not the upstanding citizens of our area. They were
drug dealers and users. When I would ask about them he would talk
shit on them and say that he was nothing like them.
Around
Christmas of 2003, I noticed a huge change in Johnny’s behavior.
He was sleeping all the time and had no interest in my life or what I
was doing with it. He then began to become careless with his own
life. He quit his job at Wal Mart and began working at many other
places just to get by. He was in a bad car accident and I was told
that he lost control of the car; I later found out that he was too high
on heroin to drive and passed out at the wheel. He was on crutches
for weeks with his leg in a brace.
Johnny
moved in with me and my family around that time. His mother tried
to warn me that something wasn’t right with him but we took him in
anyway.
He
was doing a great job of pulling the wool over my eyes, along with my
family’s eyes. Once his addiction began to go out of control, I
became more and more suspicious. Money was missing from my bank
account, my debit card was missing, and there were unauthorized charges
on my credit card. Johnny had small marks on his inner arm that he
would say were scratches. He began to work for a man (a fellow
heroin user) and once that happened, I could almost never find him.
I would drive for miles (usually with no real destination in mind) to
try and find him. I always thought I could rescue him. In
the dark one night, on a dark country road, I found the man’s house
for whom he was working for. I was really putting myself in danger
but did not care because inside I just knew something was wrong.
Once the man got a hold of Johnny for me, he came rushing to the house.
I brought him home with me and on the way I asked him if he had
something to tell me, but he just couldn’t admit it. I saw in
his eyes and heard in his voice that he really wanted to open up to me.
A
small time after that, Johnny started selling heroin and was using my
car to traffic it. I would often go with him to the town where he
would get it from and would sit in the car while he went to God knows
where to get the drugs. Again, I was putting my life on the line
as well as my career as a future teacher. Once he got more
comfortable with me knowing that he was buying and selling the drug, he
would take me into these people’s houses and while I sat down stairs
on a couch, he would be in their bathroom shooting up. Still at
this point, I was in such denial, I figured all was well. The
money he was making from selling heroin was really nice, I must say.
I
remember one night, Johnny was whispering on the phone and I kept asking
him who he was talking to. He just kept pushing me away. I
was begging him not to leave me that night and he said he wouldn’t.
I then heard him begging the person on the phone to pick him up and they
did. I chased him outside in the snow, with no shoes on, pleading
with him to come back inside. He left, and returned about an hour
later, as if nothing had happened.
He
began to lock himself in my parents’ bathroom for long periods of
time. I would bang on the door and he would tell me that he was
just relieving himself, not to worry. Once, I found the top of a
syringe on the bathroom sink and he told me it was something for his
tooth and I was still stupid enough to believe him. He told
stories about someone stealing his paycheck and being bit by spiders (to
explain a misfire of heroin in his hand). It is amazing how love
truly is completely blind at times.
In
April of 2004, we were remodeling our bedroom at my house with our tax
return money. I had $40 in my purse that I later found to be
missing after he had taken my car for a “ride”. This really
was the straw that made me lose my composure and my suspicions really
rose. Around that time, he lost his job because he was not showing
up to work at all. I went to the places where my debit and
credit cards were being used to get copies of the signature used so that
I could file police reports. Without a doubt it was Johnny’s
signature on each of those pieces of paper. I confronted him that
day by saying, “I know you have a problem.” He blew me off as
usual and that night we went on a heroin run so that he could “sell”
some more to make more money.
He
made a huge mistake. He left his kit under our mattress and my
mother, who was becoming increasingly suspicious as well, found it.
She called my cell phone right away and wanted me home. While we
were out getting heroin, his life was unfolding right under him.
That’s when I was finally certain that he was doing the very drug that
I was allowing in my house and car to make money for us. We got to
my house and my mom and older brother were just sitting waiting for an
explanation. They thought I was doing the drug also. I made
up a story about it belonging to someone else to protect him from being
kicked out of our home. The last thing I needed was for him to
disappear from my life for good and not be able to know if he lived or
died. I knew what I had to do.
He
still lied to me and told me it belonged to one of his “friends” and
part of me wanted to believe him so badly. Everything was coming
together so quickly and I think he knew he had no other choice than to
finally come clean about what he was doing to himself. I had known
it in my heart for months, but for some reason I just wanted to hear it
from his mouth.
The
next day, I confronted him and told him I knew something was going on
and he could either tell me and get help or leave me alone for good.
I did not need that in my life and could not watch him kill himself
slowly. He confessed and was scared of what would happen to him
next. That day, I made a vow to him that I would stand by him as
long as he was trying to get himself better. I wanted the best for
him and unless he wanted the same, there was no way it would work.
We
looked into methadone clinics, outpatient clinics, and hospital
detoxification programs. Johnny did NOT, in any way, want to be
placed in an in-patient rehab. Over the next 12-14 hours, I would
not let him shoot up. We took him to a local emergency room to
help him with the withdrawal and they did nothing for him. A nurse
told me that if we were planning on getting him real treatment, a few
more bags of heroin would at least help him stay alive. I
researched help on the internet and found a place that has recovering
heroin addicts call you to give you advice. The man that called
told me the same thing: “If he’s been doing it for this long,
a few more days wouldn’t hurt.” So that’s what I did.
We went down to the area that he got the heroin and got him ten bags to
last the weekend until we could find him treatment.
I
sat and watched him shoot up in our bedroom and felt totally torn.
If he didn’t have the drug, he would be miserably sick and could die;
if he took the drug he could overdose and still die. Either way,
he was going to be in serious pain. During that weekend, he put a
lot of heroin in the spoon and I took it from him and put some back into
the bag. After he shot up, he couldn’t stand or see straight and
kept thanking me for saving his life.
After
researching success rates on methadone, out patient programs, and
in-patient programs, I strongly suggested that he went into an
in-patient facility that specialized in heroin cases. I found a
place that covered all bills for this type of problem and he was in an
in-patient rehab Monday morning that was very far from our home.
He was scared there and had things stolen from him in one night so I was
there to take him home the next day. He tried to convince me to
let him do the methadone or out-patient program instead but I was stern
in my decision/ultimatum. The same program that paid for the first
rehab offered him one last chance. The next day, he was at another
in-patient rehab center that was a little closer to home and had a much
better reputation.
He
was there for thirteen days total and voluntarily left, against the
workers’, my family’s, and my advice because one of the counselors
there was totally rude and insensitive to him. I did not know what
would happen next. They did not give him any medication to bring
home with him so I had some heroin left from the bundle that we’d
bought to get him through that weekend that he came clean and let him
take a little each day until it was gone.
Somehow,
it worked. He has been clean since that April of 2004. He
just celebrated his 2nd year anniversary and is still going strong.
I look back at that time of my life as one of the worst times and wonder
how the hell I got through it. I think when you are putting your
all into someone else, it is hard to concentrate on your own grief and
pain. I was lucky to have a very supportive family system that
willingly helped me through this ordeal. I did deal with feelings
of resentment towards him for a long time and still, to this day, when I
think about it long and hard, I want to cry and scream. I never
could quite understand how he could care for a substance more than he
loved me.
I
am proud to say that Johnny is now holding down a good full-time job and
is paying bills, helping around the house, and has become an outstanding
man in the past two years. We moved far away from that place and
now have our own home with two puppies and a cat. I am in my first
successful year of teaching and we are planning on being together for
years to come.
If
you would have asked me then how I thought things would work out, I
would not have said anything positive. I thought for sure he would
die. With the statistics that I’ve seen in regards to heroin
use, Johnny was one of the ones who beat the odds. I know that
although he has a lot of clean time into his recovery, it is no
guarantee that I will never see that drug again. I am hopeful,
though, that as long as I am a strong support system to him, he will
never again need to depend on a drug to bring him happiness in life.
I
love him more than words could ever say. We were two of the lucky
ones. When you are dealing with a loved one with an addiction, you
are also going through the same emotions and feelings of hopelessness
and helplessness. I hope our story could be help towards a person
or family and would like to give my sympathy to families who have lost
someone to this drug or are dealing with an addict right now at this
very moment. Know that there are many who have been in your shoes
before you and there is help and support out there.
Thank
you for taking the time to hear our story.
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I
FELL IN LOVE WITH A MAN
By
Danielle (written for her boyfriend)
This
man is warm and gentle. He cares for me and loves me anyway he
can. He makes me laugh, and we always have fun together. He
understands me and comforts me when I am upset, or have had a bad day.
I trust this man, I know in my heart that he would never lie to me, or
cheat on me. This man is charming, and incredibly intelligent.
He is a sought after professional in his field of work, and does his job
better than most others in his profession. He tells me that he
loves me. He is great to cuddle with. He is my best friend,
I love spending time with him. I look forward to hearing from him
and seeing him whenever possible. This man is very similar to me
in several ways. He is a caring individual who would support his
friends in any way possible. He would only ever want to help
anyone. This man is incredibly handsome. He has tan skin and
blonde hair. He is strong, and has an amazing smile. He
makes me smile when I see him laugh. He is the man that I long
for, that I love with all of my heart and soul. I pray for him;
that he will get everything that he wants out of life, and I pray for
us…that our relationship will continue to grow, and that the future
holds something great for us together.
I
fell in love with a drug addict ...
This
man is selfish and cold-hearted. He lies. He lies when he
knows that I know that he’s lying. He breaks promises. He
is not there for me when I need him to be. He will not let me be
near or touch him. This man does not care about other people’s
feelings; he only cares about what he wants for himself. I am
afraid he will take the man that I love away from me. I cannot
trust this man. He breaks my heart. This man makes me feel
invisible, that I don’t matter to him. I don’t think this man
loves me. This man makes me cry entirely too often. He makes
me doubt myself, and my feelings. He takes me for granted.
This man is depressed. He smells like his drug. He makes me
suspicious. This man only calls or comes to see me if it will help
him in some way. He is not attractive. He has glazy eyes
with dark circles underneath. He has “friends” that I don’t
know, and leads a secret life. He does not try to help his real
friends…he enables them to be like him. When I am with him…I
am waiting for a better day. I pray for him; that he will gain
strength and want to learn to fight his addiction. I pray that he
will always be safe, and that he will someday be happy with himself and
his life.
These
two men coexist in the same body.
I
know that I have to take one with the other, but I’m tired of hurting.
I am tired of HIM hurting. I just want my old boyfriend back…the
one who loves me and makes me laugh. The one who makes me happy.
I rarely get to see him much anymore. I want the one who wanted to
do fun things with me, and wanted to spend time with me. I want
the man who I had a great sex life with. The one who made me
comfortable being me. Who wanted to be with me. The one who
told me that he loves me without me having to say it first.
I
know that I will never be able to have one without the other in some
way, an addict is an addict for life. I just wish for once he
would keep his promises. That he would stay away from the drugs
that change him into this whole other person. I am beginning to
think that I am just as sick as he is.
It
makes me question if I even know which one it is that I love. Is
the fun, silly, amazing guy the one who is high? Or is he still an
amazing person when he’s clean? Is it when he is clean that he
turns into the man who hurts me?
I
am beginning to lose track.
I
only know one thing. I just want the man that I fell in love with
back…the good one…and I want us both to be happy....together.
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THROUGH
THESE EYES
By
Mike
In a day of an
addict this is how we live
We don't have much
just our story to give
In this life as an
addict we want to change
but we never do
which seems so strange
Through the eyes
of an addict you will see pain
One who has no
family with nothing to gain
In the family of
an addict we are alone
None there to talk
to, No-one to phone
In the body of an addict we
are very weak
No strength nor wisdom for
us all to seek
In the head of an
addict you could not stand
These crazy
thoughts because our sanity has ran
In the chest of an
addict you will not find much
maybe a small
heart that needs a comforting touch
In the heart of an
addict you will not seek love
You will find pain
and hatred and our heart that's stubbed
On the arms of an
addict you'll see our scars
our bumps and
scabs that are the size of cars
In the home of an
addict it gets very cold,
No heat or possessions,
cause everything's sold
In the pocket of
an addict you might find fuzz
lint maybe a
cotton we saved for a buzz
In the rush of an
addict we are complete
No need for
anything as we fall asleep
In the dreams of
an addict we are completely normal
no more pain hate
nor fear that felt so horrible
In these veins of
an addict its the same as yours
Blood still runs
through , just ours are filled with sores
In these eyes of
us addicts we may not be bad
But please don't
give up on us, for you are all we have
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GOOD-BYE
FOREVER
By
Angela
Last
time I let someone say good-bye for me, this time I’ll do it for
myself.
All
you have ever done is caused me sorrow and bad health.
I
always said I’d do it one more time, “it’s no big deal”,
but
never again will I, and this time I’m for real.
How
anyone could ever say they had a good time with you, I don’t know.
All
you did for me was cause pain and make me slow.
For
all those out there who think there is no way out,
you
have to be willing, and then make your own route.
Sure,
at first you’re a lot of fun.
That’s
before I’m out of money and staring at a loaded gun.
Many
people I know, you’ve scarred forever.
That
is, if they hadn’t already died and gone off to somewhere better.
Somewhere
better being anywhere that you will not be.
I
don’t know why it took me this long to completely see.
Everything
bad happened so long ago.
I
guess they were right when they said I wasn’t fully letting go.
You’ve
done enough to me and my friends,
so
this time, at least for me, it really is the end.
November
2005
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CHILLS
(STILL THINKING OF YOU)
By
Angela
At
first, just thinking of you gave me chills
Then,
the days without you, those chills made me ill
Waking
up in a bed soaking wet,
night
sweats, the chills I’d like to forget
I’d
wake up alone, why aren’t you here now?
I
knew where to find you, the problem was how
Still,
thoughts of euphoria ran through my head
Not
thoughts of my friends you killed and are now dead
After
all this time, I still get chills thinking of what I’ve done
So
I guess in the battle of head games, you’ve won
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White
Horse
Sent
in by Sue
Come
ride the white horse, the horse dealer cried
You’ll
have a good trip; he cruelly lied
The
first rides for free; those words did the trick
I
rode off on his back but after I was sick.
The
next time I saw him I asked after his horse
I
wanted to ride, so he said but of course
He
charged me a score! Which seemed pretty mean
But
I rode off to heaven where I’d never been.
When
the journey was over, the horse brought me back
To
a new hell on earth where I needed more smack.
I
went to the horse dealer, I begged him for more
Then
after that he came to my door.
The
horse ran from heaven to hell with my soul
I
was no longer the master, the horse had control.
The
dealer looked different, horns, hooves and a tail.
Upon
my return a guaranteed sale.
Fixed
up once more, to the heavens I rode.
I
tried chasing the dragon, it cost me much gold.
White
horse plenty, my money had gone
So
I stole for my habit though I knew it was wrong.
In
prison white horses aren’t allowed in
I
cried in pain, my body grew thin.
So
this is my story of the horse riding days
Left
with nothing but memories and confusing haze
So
if you ride white horses, please ride them well
Because
the white horse of heroin will take you to HELL.
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