I was tired.
I was tired of lying, stealing, and being broke.
I had used so many drugs I was no longer getting high, I was just using.
A lost cause, I convinced myself that I was okay.
I was a legend in my mind.
Addiction doesn't care about my ego.
Matter of fact, it wants me to believe everything it tells me so that when I hit bottom, I can't get up because of the shame.
My self-made self had set me up for failure; again.
My family worried.
They went to sleep worrying, dreamed worrying, and woke stressed.
They were tired also.
They offer me help.
Intervention?
No, they were trying to survive.
Loving me was an uphill battle.
My addiction slowly took its toll on everyone I came into contact with.
No one wanted to be around me.
I didn't want to be around myself.
When I lost hope, I knew I was in trouble.
What happened?
In the beginning, using was fun.
Parties, women, and hanging with my boys.
We watched the games while drinking and smoking.
Now I'm alone or hanging with people I didn't know.
Drugs have become my primary focus.
Everything else became secondary; job, washing my azz, friends, family, sex, and eating.
I tried my best to cover up my drug use.
I wanted to maintain this image I had of myself.
In my mind, I was in control.
But everyone knew about me and my double life.
I was an addict and didn't know it.
