The After Party…

This post may be a bit heavy, and will contain some mature content. It contains drug references and may be triggering to some people. So please, read with caution… 

[If you missed the first part of my story you can find it (here) ] I have no doubts that my partying ways began as a way to escape the thoughts and feelings that I was experiencing in high school. But then something changed. I no longer “just wanted to get high and party” but I had to. I not only had the desire to escape but there was also a physical need for it.

[ You are probably wondering where my parents were in all this? Well, my parents divorced when I was in third grade, and I lived with my mom. My mom, who had to work two jobs just so we could afford our tiny two bedroom apartment in this city (my mom’s bedroom was the “living room” as she gave the second bedroom to my brother and I had the other). Did my mom know that I was struggling? I don’t know. I think that life in general was a struggle for her being a single parent and I think she just thought I would eventually get my shit together ] 

After I left high school, things just spiraled so fast out of control. My mom eventually moved about an hour away and my brother went to live my dad.. And I stayed in the city going to from “friends” houses to couches etc. I was never seeing my family, and only spoke with my mom periodically because at this point (2 years later; she clearly knew now that something was wrong, but didn't know how to help me. And honestly, I didn't want to be helped... YET.

I obviously quote friends because the people I was now surrounding myself full time with were other users who wanted to do the same thing I did: use. And use we did. We spent our days hustling (as they call it) and our nights partying. The neighboring town was/is known for it’s drug availability so it was quite easy to find people “to run with”. [“To run with” just means our group; we took care of each other (to the best of our abilities of course) and were always together day and night] 

Eventually, I met Stephen. Stephen was the from "the Town" I was speaking about and we became fast friends. And although he too was in the same situation I was, he was different that your typical addicted soul. When we would ride the train to cause trouble, he would read novels. He was smart, loved his family, and took me under his wing like a sister. There was something "good" in him, that I didn't see often in my current life. And little did I know he would change my life…

-to be continued.