This is part III to my story. WARNING: sh*ts about to get real.
Up to this point in my life, although I always partied, abused drugs, and hit a few “low points” over the years, I never truly hit an actual “rock bottom”. It was now 2013, I was a full blown heroin addict, using dope on a daily basis, and still managing to keep it hidden from my family. I was working for my father and even though I was slowly going down a path that I was not prepared for, I was still able to keep a some what “manageable” life. I was holding down a full time job (barely), making monthly payments on the brand new Honda Civic that I leased, and was still involved in my families lives. Little did I know, I was about to hit my first rock bottom and my entire life was about to drastically change.
By the end of June 2013, my best friend started to grow concerned for my well being. I was starting to get worse and worse in my addiction and she was beginning to not even recognize who I was. I remember clearly the day she sat me down in her room and told me that I was not me anymore. She said, “I see you, I hear you, but the person sitting in front of me is not you”. I remember begin confused. I did not understand why it was any of her business what I chose to do with my life. I didn’t realize the life I was starting to live was going to hurt the people who loved me. I thought that I wasn’t hurting anyone besides myself. Soon, my friend became so concerned that she went to my parents. She absolutely blew up my spot. At this point, my parents knew something was wrong, but they were not exactly sure what is was and hearing that it was heroin broke their hearts. I was completely ambushed one day at work. My father called me into his office, where I found him and my step mother sitting around his conference table with terrible looks on both of their faces. I had no idea that they knew for sure that I was using dope, so my first instinct was to deny everything. However, that did not work out because my friend forwarded my step mother actual text messages of me admitting to my heroin use. I was once again being backed into a corner. My father gave me a choice, either I could go to detox and rehab or I was fired from my job and completely out of his life. Obviously I choose to go away, even though I knew at that point I was not even close to being ready to stop. But I did what I thought would make them happy and attended my very first heroin detox in July of 2013. I stayed there for 5 days, being heavily medicated on detox medications and ended up leaving there sicker than I was going in. After one day of being out, I went to my boy friend’s house and was experiencing a level of dope sick that I have never experienced before. I remember being curled up in a ball on his bed screaming at him to call the dealer. At first he didn’t want to because I just left a detox but eventually he caved and made the call.
I spent the summer of 2013 in and out of 3 different drug facilities, one being the detox, and 2 being rehabs. I left both rehabs against medical advice (AMA) and by the end of the summer I officially lost my job with my father and was being kicked out of my house. It was September 2013 when I was officially asked to leave my home, I was uninvited to my older brother’s wedding, and I began to hold resentments against my family members. I couldn’t believe they were all turning their backs on me. They believed they were giving me “tough love” but I was starting to feel abandoned. This is when I officially started to spiral out of control. I started living in a sober house with 12 other girls. You were supposed to be clean if you wanted to live there but I couldn’t stop… I didn’t want to stop. While my entire family went up-state in New York for my brother’s wedding, I proceeded to break into my grandparent’s house and stole almost all of their gold jewelry from Italy and pawned it for money to get high.
I ended up getting kicked out of the sober house for using and my mother took me back in, but not for long. My grandparents went away to Italy for 2 weeks, and since I got away with breaking into their home the last time they were away, I decided to do it again, but this time I went too far. Within 2 weeks I took the rest of the jewelry, all the cash in the house (about $800) and eventually started stealing their bank checks. I would write checks out to myself for cash and forge my grandmother’s signature. By the end of their 2 week vacation, I managed to steal over $3,000 from their bank account (that is not including the cash and jewelry I took as well). I somehow didn’t get caught right away. It wasn’t until I stole money from my younger brother’s bank account, using his debit card, that shit finally hit the fan. I was caught and my family knew everything.
After I was confronted by my family, I admitted to everything and told them I needed help. My younger brother decided that he was going to take control of the situation and took it upon himself to try and detox me at home. It was completely miserable. He took my car keys, my phone and basically locked me in the house and dosed me with NyQuil for 3 days straight. My brother had faith in me and truly believed that with his help I could finally kick the habit for good. However, on the 4th day, I could not take the pain anymore and I caved. I snuck out of my house and had a friend drive me to my grandparents house one last time to steal another check so I could finally make the sickness go away. When I got home I didn’t tell my brother that I used and I continued to pretend to be sick for the next 2 days. Finally, my father broke the news to my brother after he checked my bank account and saw that I cash another check. My brother was devastated. He got really angry with me and told me that I wasn’t his sister anymore. I ended up getting kicked out of my house again and completely lost all communication with my father and brother. I ended up moving in with my boy friend and the 2 of us continued to live the junkie lifestyle.
In November of 2013, I managed to rack up 4 tickets. 3 speeding tickets (going 96, 83, and 75 in a 55 mph zone) and one reckless driving ticket. At this point I did not have a real job, I was not paying my car lease, and I decided to ignore my traffic violations. I made my money for drugs by working for my drug dealer at his money laundering business. I would clean the entire place and I would act as a “secretary” while selling drugs to his customers who stopped by all day. That December, I was not speaking to my family for about 2 months now, I missed Thanksgiving, my birthday and I knew I wouldn’t be invited to Christmas. On Christmas Eve, I checked myself into Nassau University Medical Center Detox Unit. I was planning on continuing on to their rehab facility, but once again left AMA and had my dealer come pick me up. I went right back to the lifestyle, living with my boy friend, not speaking to my family, working for a drug dealer, and driving around in a car that I did not make a payment on for months.
The whole month of January 2014 was miserable. I knew I wasn’t living a good life and I knew I was not happy. I was becoming depressed and I just felt lost. Eventually, the dealer I was working for got arrested for possession (not selling) and was looking at facing a couple months in jail. I decided to take his arrest as a sign and decided that I wanted to try and change my life, but this time I would try something different. I called my father, for the first time in 3 months, and told him that I wanted to go back to rehab, but this time I wanted to get far away from Long Island and go to a place where I couldn’t just walk out. My father was glad to hear this and he helped me get into a rehab facility in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. My boy friend was not happy that I was leaving, but I knew I had to give myself a real chance at saving my life. So I packed up everything I had with my at his house, returned by car to the dealership (they were looking to repo it for months at this point), got into my father’s car, and boarded a plane to Florida.
I remember feeling that I was going to get it this time, that everything was going to work out… but, unfortunately, I was once again very very wrong.