“Don’t do drugs!” We were all told about the dangers some way or another. But I found out by personal experiences. Schools try and educate children about drugs and their effects on humans, but nobody ever takes it seriously. There are programs and classes that try to brainwash children into having an anti-drug mentality, but they don’t always work. Drugs will ruin you’re life, just like they did mine. I got kicked out of school, had to do credit recovery to move onto the next grade, lost the trust of everyone in my family, lost friends, and had to be monitored by strangers so I didn’t kill myself. I am very open about my life and I’m glad that I’m still young and can change myself for the better. I don’t remember when I started doing drugs and I’m not going to get into the specifics of what I did and with whom I did it with, but this is the life of a teenage screw-up, my life.

My dad died when I was in 4th grade. I was only 10. He did cocaine and the night that he died was because the cocaine caused his lungs to bleed and drown him to death. I didn’t have a terrible father and don’t have any sob stories about him. Everyone that knew him said he was a good man and I don’t agree or disagree. When he died it was weird. Everyone was always talking about him and that annoyed me. I got over his death very fast and developed an “I don’t care” attitude to anything that had to do with my father. People always say that I do still care and that’s why I get so defensive whenever they ask me how I feel about it. I’m over it, but it is a big event in my life that has shaped who I am today.

I have a lot of memories involving drugs. Good ones and bad ones alike. To keep other peoples lives personal I am not going to share them with you. I slowly built my way up with the amount that I used and the wild adventures I would go on. Everything that I had been doing led up to one defining moment. I overdosed. I’ve done it before, but this time was different. My crazy drug fueled rollercoaster of a life was coming to an end. February 6, 2013 is the day that my life ended. I blacked out and did extremely embarrassing things. Things so embarrassing that only I know about them. That night in February my mom caught me using. She knew I had a problem but didn’t know that it was still affecting me. She didn’t know how much I had taken or what but she was furious. I don’t remember how I got on the school but, but I ended up at school. The school sent me to the hospital in an ambulance, the second time they had to send me to the hospital for being under the influence of dangerous amounts of drugs. By going to the school, I was breaking school rules by being under the influence. My memories of the events that happened that night are like remembering parts of a movie that you had watched a few years back. I also don’t remember them from my point of view. I don’t know why but when these events were happening it didn’t feel like it was me, it felt like I was just watching chaos unfold and I was just a spectator. Strangely I even remember other events from another source, I could see myself. I don’t know how else to explain it other than watching a movie that you don’t know the plot to until it happens.