The summer of 2007, it was a hot one. Walking out the door was enough to make someone feel like they were melting. Fort Worth, Texas has been home for almost 20 years. But until that summer, I had never really gotten to explore the city. It's not a terrible place but it has its problems.
After spending years in a deep depression, and rarely leaving the home I shared with my divorced parents, I decided to go out and find something to get into. Not the best decision that I have ever made, that's for sure.
It had been 6 years since I moved back in with my Dad. My childhood friend from birth, who I was engaged to and set be married the next day, was killed in a fire. We had a fight the day before the wedding and he went to his parents home to mellow out. Unfortunately, he loved lighting tons of candles and had a clumsy dog that ended up knocking some of them over while he was asleep on the couch. So, he died of smoke inhalation before he was burned beyond recognition. The last thing we said to one another was, "fuck you".
So, it weighed heavily on me and after that incident, I kinda threw my life away. Heroin was ruining what little will to live that I had left. My parents ended up taking me to be put on methadone, so on methadone I stayed for the next 6 years of my life.
I went from this full of life, twenty four year old, in great shape young lady, to a full blown addict. I spent my days knodding out and making sure that I had no experience with reality. I stayed in this self induced chemical coma for so long a d gained so much weight because I never moved.
So, when I decided I had enough of being and doing nothing, I was now a thirty year old, overweight, self-conscious, terrified of the world, and now middle aged and had nothing going for me. I felt so inferior at this point,because of my weight that I wouldn't even make eye contact with anyone because I believed that I was not worthy.
Wasting that many years of my life in depression and addiction was not something I planned. The time flew by so fast that I didn't even notice how behind I was, from everyone I knew, it was just something that slapped me upside the head all of the sudden.
Heroin was not my only vice. I was not an addict who discriminated. I would do anything, and a shit ton of it. That's how I coped, at least that's what I thought I was doing by using the drugs. Coping...