I openly share my story of addiction with the hope that it will prevent at least one person from going down the path that I explored.
It all started when I began dating Tina (name has been changed). She was fun and exciting. I remember being in a local bar and she asked a stranger if he had any coke. He was confused, and she just laughed. I thought she was kidding.
Later that week we were out at a different bar with my roommate and her boyfriend, when Tina got serious about finding some coke. My roommate's boyfriend made a call, and pretty soon the two of them were headed out to the local grocery store parking lot to meet a dealer. They returned, and we all left the bar and headed home. In the car I began to get a bit nervous. I had never done any hard drugs. I was a pot smoker for sure, but I had always been afraid to try anything harder. Tina stuck her finger in the tiny baggie and then stuck it in my mouth. The white powder tasted awful and bitter, but it had an instant numbing effect. I liked it. I kind of felt like I was at the dentist.
We arrived home and my roommate's boyfriend took a mirror off the wall. He began cutting lines of the white powder. Four neat lines. One for each of us. I remember vividly my roommate's boyfriend looking me in the eyes and saying, "you DON'T have to do this. In fact, I would prefer that you didn't." But then Tina said something about not being a pussy, and I knew I couldn't turn back. Besides, I wanted to know why Lindsay Lohan thought it was so awesome...

Flash forward a few months. I am a hot mess. Tina and I broke up, but I continued to do coke with my roommate and her boyfriend. I have no money since all my money is going to cocaine. At this point, we were doing it about 3 times a week. Each time, we would stay up all night, even if there was work the next day. I went in to work without sleep, sometimes I would do a line before I left just to get through the day.
I lost 20 pounds in less than 2 months, and my face was beginning to look gaunt. I thought I was hiding my addiction well, but I think everybody knew. We would go out to clubs and I would go to the bathroom about once per hour; sometimes doing lines with my friend in the next stall.
My sister gave up on me. She told me that she hoped I didn't kill myself, and stopped talking to me altogether. I lost friends; people began distancing themselves from me. Soon all I had left was my roommate and her boyfriend. But that was all I needed. Them and the sweet white powder.
One night, we got a batch of coke that was more pure than what we were used to. We generally did what we called "Hollywood lines", which were twice the size of a normal line. We did two of these in a row of the pure stuff, and I knew almost instantly that it was too much. My heart began racing and I literally couldn't sit still. I began walking in circles around the house with a crazed look on my face. Eyes wide; heart racing. I remember thinking "I'm going to die. I OD'd, and now I'm going to die in my living room." I remembered then that alcohol can bring you down from a high, and I ran into the kitchen and chugged a beer. Almost instantly, my heart slowed and the panic stopped.
You would think that an incident like that would make me want to quit. Nope. When you're addicted, nothing else matters. Friends and family don't matter. Your life doesn't even matter. You just exist between highs.
My turning point was when my mother found my coke straw in my car. It was a clear straw but so caked with cocaine residue that it wasn't clear anymore. My mother picked it up and just started to cry. She blamed herself; she asked why. I couldn't answer her. I had no answer. I didn't even know why.
After that day I decided to quit. I literally just walked away from it. I had support from a few friends that I had left, for which I am forever grateful. In order for me to quit for good, I had to move cities (about an hour away), and delete a lot of the contacts in my phone. I still spoke with my old roommate, but I had to wait a few months before I could hang out with her.
I'd like to say my recovery was difficult, but it really wasn't. I was so focused and determined to change my life that I just did it. I know it isn't that easy for most addicts and I consider myself very lucky. My advice to anyone considering trying cocaine is this: DON'T. It is true what they say; it only takes one time. Then you're hooked. The high is unlike anything you've ever felt, but that's the problem. You want to feel it all the time, and you'll do almost anything to achieve it.
I thank God everyday for my life. I know I could have overdosed at any time, and I am so glad I didn't. My roommate and her boyfriend quit too, soon after I did. They are married now with a beautiful son, and another baby on the way. Our story has a happy ending, but I know a lot do not. Do not become a statistic. Trust me.