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Crack, Blow, Roxies and Nightlife Were Bad Friends
by gem
There was a level of perfection I could taste but not succeed. This especially was practised when I started gymnastics. I trained 8 hours a day from age 6-16 and made it my life. When my Mom and I would travel for competitions she would drink a lot and beat me constantly. I eventually was ready to compete at a national level in Europe but she pushed me so hard I damaged my knees and had to retire at 16. I was devastated, my hopes and dreams were gone and had nothing left to live for. I decided to eat 3 bottles of tylenol to end my life since I couldn't believe I took so much abuse for NOTHING. I almost died, had to have my stomach pumped and was in observation for 3 days. When I was released my boyfriend had heard about what happened and said I am looney toons and too heavy at 130 pounds for him and to never talk to him again. I starved myself in skating so this all came naturally and I purged my food - but I started on it again hard for 6 months then stopped once I was skinny and popular. I smoked some marijuana and it seemed to help with that dumb boy and my Mom beating me, it was great! My father realized how terrible my mother is and decided to leave her. It's been 3 years and their divorce is still going in (she refuses to settle). So after that I started college at 17 since I was home-schooled for gymnastics. I always got straight A's and event spent a summer studying psychology at Cornell University. I never went to public school so college was a big shock. I immediately loved smoking pot and popping xanex pills and drinking alcohol at parties. Then I started doing cocaine but realized soon it was too expensive on my given allowance. My friend Elena, who I usually snorted coke with decided that we should start topless dancing once a week to pay for it (we're 18 years old btw). I loved the rush and control I had over these men and to be high while doing it ... ooooh it was magical. No guy in college ever treated me with respect like the customers. I finally felt ... beautiful - school was over so I went home to my dad's for summer. I needed a brake because my knees were hurting from climbing that pole. Then two months later my sister came to visit me (she moved to Kansas to live with her husband) - and we partied hard here. Drank, smoke, started dabbling in coke a little, and she introduced me to roxycodone aka roxies - and I felt like it was the answer to my prayers. I did it with her and was so upset for her leaving but she would be back to visit in no time. She never did. Two weeks later on the morning of august 27th, I got a frantic phone call saying my sister was dead. My heart sunk. She was driving and had a seizure from consuming xanax and inhaling air cans and flew off a cliff and died instantly. My dad and I flew to Kansas to meet the family and everyone was bawling. My brother in law asked me to arrange the funeral and to do her make-up "the way she would have wanted to look" - I was hesitant. As soon as I walked in that cold room that smelt of death and saw her so pail and tiny I thought I couldn't go on. I brushed her hair, hands shaking, and my dad asks, are you sure you want to do this? And I said, yes, she was my big sister that watched over me, now I'm taking care of her. I finished everything and she looked like a sleeping angel ... this was my 19th birthday. I grew alot this day, maybe too much. I came back to Florida and felt lost. My Mom and I don't talk from the abuse, my brother is only 10, and my father is in a relationship with a women he met on craigslist. I felt alone and started taking roxies daily and continued smoking pot. Flash forward 10 months to may 2010. I am kicked out of my dads house for using drugs and I am very pissed. He offers treatment and I think its a joke. I am living with Elenas' ex boyfried, Nick (some junkie friend I am). My dad hates Nick because he is rude, tattooed, gunshot wound scars, drug dealing convicted felon. We would do roxies all day and think we were different from everyone. Then when money was running low he suggested I start dancing again so we can get more cash-flow. He was still a dealer but that barely paid for the motel we were renting. I started dancing and it was great money, my 5'6, 120 lbs, perky breasts, tan, perfect smile, betty page hair; it was like taking drugs from their hands. Nick was starting to get jealous and called me a whore and I said I wasn't quitting dancing so he held a gun to my head and I was terrified and kicked him out of MY motel room. I was upset when Nick left and a motel guest named Dave came over and said he would give me a needle and stick it for me if I gave him one roxie. He showed me that I could shoot up roxies and cocaine together and I loved it. After two months of that I stopped because I moved into my very own place and I couldn't find the vein in my arm and I didn't want clients to get suspicious. I met a 60 year old man at the strip club (kinda looks like dennis hof) that approached me and asked me if I wanted to make extra money and I said of course. His name is Edward, he has a nice tan, silk d&g blowse, very well put together and professional. He said that he organizes private parties where people snort coke and roxies and they want beautiful girls there to hang out with them. (every gorgeous addicts fantasy, right?) So I go over to his house which is a million dollar penthouse on the water with all the bells and whistles. There is a beautiful brunette that is long and thin with piercing blue eyes on the couch. She immediately leans forward and snorts a roxy and a line of cocaine and asks me if I want this and I said yes. She said her name is emerald and has boyfriend in jail and a baby to feed. She has me follow her into a beautiful bedroom and she tells me this is where you have "parties" or "dates" and I was confused. She also said any drug we needed Edward has on stock. Edward tells me just me to come into the room and says he has to train me to handle party entertainment and i was so scared. I'm only 19 and this man is in his sixties. Finally he hands me some roxies so I have no fear of when he tells me to (insert here what terriblebawful things you can imagine) - after he said it was "training" and to make me a better person. He basically brainwashed me or if it didn't work would drug me when it came time for dates. He gave me 75 dollars a half hour when he was charging 300, I was clueless. Then on September 17th, everything changed - I was laying on the bed half coherent half naked and Edward was talking to a client in the kitchen and I heard a bang. Then saw lights. And realized the DEA had come to my rescue. They took the monster away in handcuffs and didn't even look at me. He got charged with trafficking cocaine, 2 profit from prostitution charges, trafficking oxycodone, felony marijuana possession, xanex possession, and 64,000 in cash! I still have nightmares, from the 30 men I was paid to have sex with but especially Edward making me do such terrible things to me. Acting like he was teaching or training me, BULLSHIT. And he was taking 75 percent of my money and police found 64k in his house. The police didn't file charges since I was so destroyed mentally. It said on the search warrant it was emerald who ratted out Edward and didn't think I should get charges since I was so sweet and brainwashed by this monster. The next two months I'm dancing and still on roxies just to get outta bed - and cocaine for that spark in my step. My best friend John hung out with me for a couple weeks since we hadn't seen much of each other lately and were romantic together. He knew what happened to me and still felt like we could really be great together. He was blonde, tattooed, striking blue eyes and funny as hell, but .... an addict.One morning I got a phone call from my mother and she asked if I talked to John and I said .... no and she was crying saying no...nooo. noo I cant do this and I repeatedly asked her and she said he died from a drug overdose. Roxies, Blow, Nightlife Continued . And My Journey to Recovery
by gem
I had the water works coming down and hung up to call my dealer and the next 5 weeks are a blur. Around November work wasn't going so well, I lost a lot of weight, my skin was bad since I started smoking crack when John died, so it was tough to make 150 a night compared to an easy 400 in July. I was miserable.
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