The Deeper the Pain, the More Substances You Can Sustain
Digging into my childhood trauma was the first step to battling my addiction
Warning: Content contains descriptions of drug abuse and suicidal thoughts.
I remember the first time I tried cocaine. I fucking loved it. I got introduced to the pretty white stuff after a party by my model friend at the time.
Twenty-one years old, and I had found a new love. Our honeymoon phase lasted six months until we became toxic with each other, mostly me threatening to throw it in the toilet after a few days of bingeing, but coke reminded me it would never leave. Maybe our experience was curing my abandonment childhood issues.
We mingled throughout the years; our commitment to each other was strong. Coke enjoyed keeping me up all night, and I relied on it for confidence and courage. It was very acceptable on the party circuit and still is.
The lifestyle was exciting, meeting new people and feeling like a rockstar without actually being one. I never had to deal with my emotions because I didn't have any except irritability after a weekend of partying, but the next event was approaching, and so was the high.
Over the years, the pretty white stuff started wearing me down. I became dependent…
