Newbie with a story to share

[angelluv98]

My name is Amanda and I happened to stuble across this site while looking for advice on how to deal with my mother-in-law to be. While looking though forum, I was pleased to see that ya'll have a section for addiction and recovery. I am 19 years old and I am coming up on my 2 year anniversary of soberity. My story is rather long and drawn out, but I try to share my story and touch at least one person with it. I figured it wouldn't hurt to share it with you guys.

 

I want to start off with saying that I am not trying to tell anyone what to do nor what choices to make in life. I am simply sharing my story. I thought that it was all in fun and games… I thought I was invincible… I was wrong.

 

My first experience with drugs was at the age of twelve with my best friend (or who I thought was my best friend at the time). She was two years older than me and she had a boyfriend that was sixteen and sold drugs. As usual, I went and spent Friday night with her… but this Friday night was different. He had given her some Acid for us to do. We did it and I liked it… a lot. It made me feel different and I felt that it helped me escape the tornado of divorce at home. We started smoking weed when there wasn’t anything else for us to do. We would go to parties with her boyfriend all the time. My mom always thought that we were at my friend’s house… I still had her trust. We thought it was cool and nothing but fun and games. It was just a “weekend thing” and there was nothing to worry about. This went on for about two years, when finally I decided that I wanted to try other things besides weed, acid, and the occasional pills we would find in her mom’s medicine cabinet.

 

By this time I was fourteen and my mom was working twelve hour shifts at the hospital as an ER secretary – this allowed me to have a lot of “idle time” on my hands. My friend would come over and we would try new drugs or just smoke weed… whatever we could get our hands on. It wasn’t so much of a weekend thing anymore… it became an everyday thing. I transferred schools in the 8th grade and that’s when it really went downhill. I hooked up with some people (who used) and that’s all we did. It was usually weed, but occasionally we would do other things (i.e. speed, coke, ecstasy, etc).

 

My mom was working at 911 as a dispatcher by this point, but that didn’t phase me in the least. She had met a man (who we later discovered was a con artist) and thought she had fallen in love. He portrayed himself to be a Navy Seal and everything that my mom had ever wanted. They quickly got married and everything was okay till the end of the summer. Once school started back (I started High School), he started going out more and being verbally abusive towards me. There was an occurrence a few days after my birthday which ended up driving me out of the only home I had known… and into a home I had never been to. I moved in with my dad and went to a school that was sheer hell. My father and I have never been able to get along and it was even worse because I was out using and having fun with the “friends” that I had acquired down there. Shortly thereafter, my grandmother found out who my mom’s “husband” was and he was arrested. *(the article about that can be found below)* I moved back home and met back up with my entire “old crowd”.

 

I met a guy (whose step-brother later became my boyfriend) and my friend and I started hanging out with him and his “crowd” more. By that time, we wouldn’t even go to school without being high. If I didn’t have any weed, I wouldn’t get out of bed in the mornings. I thought there was nothing wrong with what I was doing and I had no intentions of stopping. All of those plans came to a halt when I had my first encounter with the police. I was in the 10th grade and we all came to school high. We were late, so we had to sign in at the tardy desk. The lady there noticed that my boyfriend’s eyes were bloodshot and his step-brother reeked of weed. They called the school cop to the office and interviewed us all. I was holding the weed for my boyfriend and they found it… therefore I got arrested. I went to juvenile detention and spent two nights there before I could go to court and get released. My mom was in tears, but she still believed that I didn’t do drugs… since they never drug tested me at Juvenile Detention and I played it off like it was all my boyfriend’s step-brother’s fault. I was sentenced to six months deferred adjudication probation and I had to finish out the school semester at the alternative school (along with my boyfriend, his step brother, and my best friend). I completed all my requirements in three months and was released from probation. As soon as I was released, I went back to smoking weed. This time I thought I would be smart and mix up the different things I was using. After having tried almost every other drug that I could get my hands on… I decided that I liked speed. I was doing about an ounce of speed a week in the beginning.

 

Once I got my driver’s license, I thought I was on top of the world. I had a car and my mom was too busy trying to make ends meet to worry about where I was and what I was doing. I had developed a rather large circle of “friends” who all used, so I decided that I would start selling drugs. One thing lead to another, and before I knew it, I was the second largest drug dealer in my town (the first largest female drug dealer). I dropped out of High School in the spring semester of my 10th grade year because drugs and my lifestyle became more important to me than school. I soon learned that selling drugs wasn’t what I thought it would all be cracked up to be.

 

I got pulled over one night after coming back from dropping my friend’s brother off at a friend’s house. The police pulled me over and claimed to have smelled weed in the car. They searched the car and found some speed… so off to Juvenile I went, again. I spent three nights in Juvenile this time and my mom put the house up for sale. One of the requirements for getting out of jail this time was that I had to go back to school. There was no way I was going to go back to public school, so we found a self-paced private school where I ended up completing 21 classes in 4 months and graduating a year and a half early. My mom was tired and fed up with everything and thought that a geographical change would change everything. When I got out of jail, she wouldn’t even let me go back to the house I grew up in. I was pissed about that. We went directly to my grandparent’s house and had a “family meeting”… where I was informed that I would not be allowed to go anywhere or do anything without my mom, grandma, or grandpa. They then proceeded to tell me that we were moving out to their house and mom and I were going to be living near them. I didn’t like this idea at all, so I decided that I would just steal my mom’s explorer at night and go back to my home town (which was about a 30 minute drive) to hang out with my friends and use. I did this for about three months before I finally got caught. My mom started locking her keys up (and her purse b/c I was stealing money to feed my addiction) and I thought that it was the end of the world. I stayed clean while I went to school… but as soon as I completed, I was right back out there again.

 

My neighbor’s daughter did drugs, so I started hanging out with her and her friends. One thing lead to another and I was in the deepest of my addiction that I had ever been in before. I was doing coke, weed, and speed on a daily basis. This continued on until I finally went to court and was placed on probation for the speed case that I had gotten nearly a year ago (at that time). Probation didn’t scare me in the least bit… I figured that I could slide through it with no problems. I did a UA for my Probation Officer the first visit, and after not hearing anything more about it for two months… my delusional mind told me that it must have come up clear…

 

On May 7, 2003, I was at home asleep, unaware of the events that were occurring around me. I did not know that my probation officer had come to my house and was trying to contact me. I did not know that she had called my mother at work asking if I was home. About noon, the same day, my mother and my grandfather angrily came to my house looking for me and informed me that my probation officer had been trying to contact me all morning. Upon realizing they were there, I lazily and incoherently crawled out of bed. The first thought that ran through my mind was that something had happened. At this point, I was still trying to recover from the night before, just like every other night. My mother forced me to go see my probation officer that afternoon, although neither of us knew what was going to occur next. I did not bother to change clothes, so I shuffled into the Juvenile Probation Department in a T-shirt, fuzzy leopard-print pajama pants and white slip-on platform tennis shoes. I was unconcerned going into the probation office because I thought I had everyone around me fooled about what was really going on inside me. My probation officer asked me if I had something to tell her. I said “No, not that I know of.” Again, she asked, “Amanda, do you have something you want to tell me?” Again, I responded “No.”

At that point my probation officer called her supervisor into her office and said, “Amanda you give me no choice but to tell you that you failed your UA.” I said “What? It can’t be – I haven’t done anything,” knowing all the time that I was lying to her, myself and my mother. She then informed me that I had extremely high levels of marijuana and cocaine in my system. I denied that I knew anything of a failed UA and even went to the extreme of swearing on my Great-Grandmother’s grave that I did not use. This is something that I never would have done in my right mind. Looking back, I am not only ashamed but devastated that I had that attitude. She always saw the best in me.

The next thing I knew was the all-too-familiar sound of metal coming together as they wrapped the handcuffs around my wrists sending a devastating shudder down my spine. It all was like clockwork from there and once again I was stripped of my identity and became another robot in an orange jumpsuit. That was my third and final experience in the Juvenile Detention Center, but it was a week I will never forget.

I never appreciated the mere breeze of the day and the beauty of the night until I walked out of those doors for the last time. Although I did not get to go home that night, just being in normal clothing and riding in a car without being confined brought a smile to my face. It was the first time that I realized that I had a problem. I was okay with going to rehab. After a two-hour trip half-way across the metroplex, we arrived at the steps of Nexus Recovery Center. I was greeted with smiling faces, reassured that it would be all right, and that they were there to help. At the time, I did not know that Nexus would hold a special place in my heart. I spent thirty days unraveling the threads of the past five years and the realizations of the hell I had created for not only myself but also for everyone else around me as well.

On the morning of June 10, 2003, after being informed that I would not graduate from the program until the June 12, a graduation ceremony was held. Several girls had already received their certificate of completion when all of a sudden there was a silent pause. I did not know my name was about to be called. Brenda, a woman whom I will always admire, and the lady who was the head of the Adult Women program, called my name with tears in her eyes. At first I did not respond because I thought it was just a mistake. She then looked at me with a gleam in her eye and a big smile on her face and told me, “YOU DID IT!” I was shaking and tearing up as I walked up to her and got my certificate. She gave me a hug and held onto me while she talked to not only the other graduates, but everyone else in the room as well. I was seventeen years old at that time, and I felt as though I had conquered the world.

After leaving Nexus I signed up with Recovery Healthcare, an intensive outpatient program, and yet another God-sent group of people who would forever change my life. I was welcomed with open arms and, for once, I felt at ease and happy.

Today, I have succeeded at more in the past year than I ever did in the five years that I was addicted. Becoming sober not only saved my life but also allowed me to discover who I really am and changed my life forever. It has made me a stronger person and if I were to have to go back, I would do it all over again just to be able to know what I know now. I am at the peak of my life now with a wonderful and loving relationship and a stable job in an established company. There is not enough of anything in this world to convince me to go back to my old ways. I constantly remind myself of where I came from to prevent a relapse and loosing everything I ever dreamed of.

 

Thanks for "listening" to my story and I hope it impacted you in some way.

 

- Amanda

[Sarah12385]

*applause* congrats Amanda!

 

I'm 19 also (20 in one week!) and to hear a story like that from someone my age is pretty amazing.

 

from all that i've read, i'd say you'd be a great drug prevention specialist, or maybe start your own drug addiction group or something, you know, to help out others who might've gone thru what you have.

 

i'm happy you are out of the dark it's nice to see people change so dramatically the way you have, keep up the good work and good luck with your new life!

***hug***

 

 

~Sarah~