I just joined this website, and I think this is going to be a great support for me at this time. Here’s a bit of background to my story. I’m currently 18 years old; I went into rehab at the age of 16 and started using when I was 14. I quickly progressed from smoking weed to using cocaine on a daily basis. I would sit at home all day waiting for my boyfriend to get home from work, depressed and just waiting for my fix. I would sleep with him for him to give me drugs. Eventually, I couldn’t survive through the pain I was feeling throughout the day, and started stealing copious amounts of money from my parents to feed this monstrous craving I never went to school, and I rarely got out of bed. I spent my days reading biographies about drug addicts, and I truly wanted to end up like them. My goal was to become famous and die in a dramatic manner such as an overdose or suicide. I couldn’t see my life going past the age of 30… Life was far too painful. I failed every class, and ended up getting kicked out of my house. I was homeless for a few weeks before Christmas. At this time I started raving and dropping acid and MDMA. This is when my perception of reality began to become even more distorted and paranoid. I believed there was no point in existence; the government is out to fuck us over, and so on… I’m sure you’ve all had these thoughts. My mom found me in this random persons house by tracking down my phone. She had been planning to take me to rehab for a long time, and I ended up going for 17 months. This was an intensely overwhelming period of time in my life. I discovered many things about myself that I didn’t know had affected me. Being molested when I was a child, verbally abused by my father, and bullied at school on a daily basis. I was required to write a life story, which is where I revealed things that I had never told a soul. I went through this program like an actor, there was no doubt in my mind I was still going to use when I left. I started to go on home visits, and I was hanging out with old friends. I smoked cigarettes like they were going out of style, and the craving for me was so strong that it was unbearable. By the third or fourth time I went home, I couldn’t handle it any longer. I ran away from home to one of my friends’ dirty apartments that was infested with bed bugs. I used every single day from that point on. Eventually, my friend got evicted from his apartment and we had no where to go. We ended up living on the streets of Toronto for a long time. We would meet people at raves and they would let us stay at there place, if we were lucky. Sometimes we would sleep in front of restaurants and in parks. For a long time, we ended up living in this hooker’s apartment. I would play guitar on the streets for cash, and I would spend it all on drugs. No, not food, drugs. I would starve myself on purpose just to become ridiculously skinny. I was gone for months, my parents had no idea where I was for the longest time. One day, I mixed DMT, acid, and 2CI all at once. This led me to experience a psychosis, and I started seeing demons and believing I had died and entered hell. From this point on I believe I was never the same. I still experience paranoid thoughts at times. However, this was the time when I discovered that I wanted to become sober. I woke up lost in Toronto, and everyone was ignoring me like I was crazy. I busked my way home, and showed up on my moms doorstep. My mom seemed like she had seen a ghost. Anyways, long story short, I went back to the same rehab and have been there sober for the past 6 months. I constantly worry about relapsing, but I really don’t want to. I figure this website would be a good place to vent about my problems, and make some good, solid friends to talk to. If you ever need anyone to talk to, EVER, just let me know. Seriously, I would love to hear from you. <3 Have a lovely evening everyone!

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