Crack, Blow, Roxies and Nightlife Were Bad Friends
Lets start with the beginning at 17 yrs old. I grew up in a wealthy family - I have a Mom, Dad, sister and brother. I'm in the middle with my sister being 7 years older and me being 7 years older than my brother. My Mom is European and very demanding on me to always be the best.
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
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.
I didn't want to talk to my family, my friends wanted me for drugs, my own managers wanted me for sex. I wasn't eating. If I had the money I would kill myself with drugs. I was invited to thanksgiving dinner at dads and I knew i wouldn't be able to make it through withdrawing or high.
I was withdrawing very bad and my neighbor crack dealer came over and gave me a xanex and when I woke up I had no pants on and there was crack next to me and I started crying. I walked outside and screamed to god what should I do?!?
And my dad sent me a text saying, I love you. I almost passed out from dehydration from the pills and I called him and scared I said, dad, I need help ... for drugs. I'm really bad and scared. Help me daddy. And he said call an ambulance and they'll take you to rehab.
I was in the locker room at the strip club and could go left on stage, or right out the door. I loved getting high and feeling no pain, but this road and I'm going to die. I walked forward in my heals right out the door and sat on the side of the interstate thinking, I'm dying, broke, addicted, and scared ... I'm going to die young like my sister and John.
A lady walked by in an all white dress asked if I was ok and I said no and fell asleep in her arms. I was woken up to the ambulance pushing me away and the paramedic looked at the scratch-picking scars on my forehead and said I looked like a meth user and made me show my white teeth and realized it was just crack, cocaine and pills.
My iron was so low, I was anaemic, and it was blamed on heavy periods, but I don't have them! I hadn't eaten in days, hooked up to an iv to"eat" weighed 97 pounds, had 3 grey hairs sticking out. I was embarrassed at what I'd become and started crying, then the friendly paramedic got close to my face and said, YOU WILL MAKE IT AND LIVE A GREAT LIFE BUT IF YOU USE DRUGS AGAIN I WON'T HAVE TO KILL YOU, YOU'LL DO THAT YOURSELF.
Then she told me she was addicted to heroin 20 yrs ago and if she could kick it then I definitely could. I was assisted into a wheelchair when I got to the ER. Nurses looking at me like I'm vile, scoffs, eye rolls, cooing "poor child" no, she's a JUNKY!
My Mom walked in and walked right by since she didn't even recognize her own daughter. She almost cried when she saw found me and it was like all that abuse and anger was put aside that moment. A dying frail little girl that had her mommy again.
She held my hand in the room as I really started withdrawing. I was grinding my teeth, drooling, murmering crying, shaking, and she was terrified. She played with my lifeless long hair and said her "booboo was going to be all right". I wanted my dad to be there but he was up north and would be there in the morning.
I am brought to the rehab floor and its very quiet. They give me my sleeping pill and as my eyes shut I see its November 23 2010, the first day of my new life. I smile and think the next few days are going to SUCK. 5 30 AM I get stabbed with a needle to draw blood, take vidals. urghh this sucks I spend the next 5 days vomiting everything in my stomach, diarrhoea, chills, joint pains.
And the only medication I took is a non-narcotic anxiety pill, my antidepressants, and non narcotic sleeping pill. (if you've come off opiates alot of dr's recommend clonidine for blood pressure, suboxone and methadone are effective but addictive.
It was a serious roller coaster ride but after a few weeks was released and sober. Decided to go live with my dad and starting getting school done for my nursing assistant license which I got! And my med tech license and cpr. Everythings going great so now this bomb hit me hard. I got a call from the police saying there's a warrant out for my arrest and I tell them its a mistake ... I'm 3 weeks clean.
I'm crying and confused. I get to the jail to see if its a mistake and its not, apparently i sold and possessed oxycodone. But to who? Remember junky dave? Well Evan was arrested for dealing drugs and ratted me out how Dave got pills from me which was a one time trade off. It supposedly happened July 13 2010 and the date now is December 22 2010.
I felt so betrayed by them and to get a drug charge since I've been clean its so depressing thank god for my dads support. My legal problems can be a trigger to use but they don't own me. Why worry about what you can't control?
I attend 9 hours of meetings of outpatient group therapy now and family night my dad comes. I was asked, what would you like to see out of this meeting? I looked at my dad and said I'm honest about my addiction and recovery process, and I'm just glad I have a dad that will always love me.
And my dad holding my hand says, I'm not going anywhere, you're my little girl now. You're respectful now, and tell the truth, and I can for the first time in years trust you.
I am 2 months sober, I'm 20, healthy, starting to get my confidence and in-out beauty, live with my father and brother, and even when I have those dreams where I want to use and I do and wakeup quickly and thank god its just a dream, because I love my sober life.