My Addiction Story for Overdose Awareness Day

These are stories I’ve never discussed before on WordPress and only share for Overdose Awareness Day because they are important for parents to realize how young kids are exposed to and take drugs. Most kids, luckily won’t have my upbringing but they do get exposed every day at school or social gatherings. 

I took drugs for the first time at 9 years old, a Black Molly, or speed as they called it. This started a habit that culminated in becoming an addict at 12 years old.

My parents were divorced and I visited my father every other weekend, he would take me clubbing with him and would ask these two women friends to keep an eye on me. They sure did. The very first time I met them I was offered a Black Molly or a Quaalude, Molly’s sounded better so that was my choice. I later tried Qualudes but they were too much of a downer for me, I liked to feel high. This pattern continued until I was almost 13 years old. 

It wasn’t long before I was smoking pot, no big deal, right? After doing hard drugs, how bad was pot?

In sixth grade with rage was huffing paint to get high, it had to be silver or gold paint, I don’t recall why. I remember going across the street from school and huffing before the bell. If my memory serves me right, it didn’t do much for me, mostly a headache. Then it was huffing deodorant, that didn’t do anything except leaving you to explain why you had an extra washcloth at P.E. class. 

I went to live with my dad when I was 12 years old, and my life took a serious turn for the worse. Not only were we going to clubs on a weekly basis, but we also went to parties where everything was on the table.

My father would buy me pot to keep me home and off the streets. That only worked for so long. 

He introduced me to a crowd of kids/young adults who hung out at the 7-11 store. They became my new crowd. I met a guy much older than me and we started dating, as it turned out he was a drug dealer. So every week I had my choice of extra special drugs on top of the pot he bought. I sometimes chose Acid. Let’s just say Acid is great until you have a bad trip, and I did. Acid can last up to 12 hours and can be a total nightmare if tripping.  Most of the time I chose speed, that was my go-to drug of choice. 

Every week he would buy a kilo of pot and we would sit on the living room floor of his apartment with newspaper spread out, baggies, a mister, and scale. Back then you could buy a four-finger bag for just $10. Imagine that! We would separate all the seeds, then be sure to add some back in each bag for extra weight. Then it was off to selling, mostly to the crowd, and of course, you keep your stash. 

Mind you, I’m 12 years old. 

My addiction grew and now I was taking speed every day on top of the other drugs I was doing. This went on for 10 months. In that time I skipped school for 34 days and spent three days in a Juvenile Detention Center. I spent a night in jail for being in a car with a friend who was pulled over and caught with stolen credit cards. My father wouldn’t answer the phone so I spent a night in a jail cell. 

I was put on probation for carrying a gun and had to see a Probation Officer once a month. For seven months I never spoke one word to her. She said the state was looking for a camp for girls who can’t be reformed to send me to.  Her name was Ruth, she was so committed. She kept telling me I had potential and that I could be reformed. 

On the eight-month, I said okay, find me a place that’s not a camp and I’ll go. The state took custody of me and I spent the next year in a boarding school for bad girls at a convent. I was forced to go cold turkey with my addiction, with only the help of God. 

This isn’t an overdose story but it could have easily been. I write about my overdose/suicide attempt for Suicide Prevention Month later this week. 

 I hope someone will benefit from this story, it is one I don’t share lightly.

Melinda