The Recovered

The Breakdown

I tried my best to push all those memories aside, the nightmares just kept coming. It wasn’t until I was in university, sitting in a child psychology lecture that I truly understood what happened to me all those years ago. I had been molested by someone I trusted, someone I thought of as a friend. Troy took away my innocence, and put me on a path to self destruction.

It was like the flood gates opened and all the memories came flooding back, all the pain and self loathing came with them. I felt broken again, after I tried so hard to put the pieces back together. How could I live with myself? How could I ever look myself in the eye again? It was too much to bear, all those feelings and emotions.

One night while I was out partying with some friends, I got asked if I wanted a bump. Well what could it hurt, right? So I stuck that rolled up twenty dollar bill in a nostril and snorted my first line, and down the rabbit hole I went.

I didn’t think I had a problem, I was just partying like any girl in their early twenties would. I dropped sixty-five pounds within six months, and I looked like a ghost of my former self. There were some suspicions on what was going on, but I became a masterful liar and could explain away the changes in myself.

I began to go into debt, not being able to pay my bills I moved back in with my parents. That was a mistake, as they started to suspect something was going on. So as not to get caught, I started staying with Derek, and eventually I lost my job and flunked out of school. But that didn’t matter to me, I was where I wanted to be, sitting on that stained and torn couch in Derek’s basement.

I began to run the drug business while Derek was at work, all day I would weigh and package little baggies for people just like me. I got good at eyeballing how much to put in each baggie and would skim a little off the top of each one. At the end of each day, I would have enough to keep me going for another day. Eventually I would have a stockpile, enough for a week. I was proud of myself, I could feed my habit and save money.

There came a time when supply became scarce however, and that is when I really started to panic. Derek could only get rock from his supplier, and that isn’t what I wanted. I always saw it as a dirty drug. Something that addicts would use, and I wasn’t an addict. That’s what I kept telling myself, I didn’t have a problem and could quit at any time. But why would I? I was having too much fun.

I went a whole five days without using before I caved, before I was begging Derek to hook me up. All he did was smile, “welcome to the dark side” he’d say ominously. At the time I didn’t know what he meant, but I would soon find out.