I gave everything. My body, my soul, my money, my very being. All of me. I gave it all to my addiction.
And my addiction chewed me up and spit me out in little pieces. I was left with nothing. Not a penny to my name – not even a few bucks to buy a few lousy cigarettes.
I had nothing. Not a single friend at the lowest time in my life. Not a shred of sanity, a drop of love or hope or strength. My addiction took my self-worth, leaving me an empty shell, with no chance of becoming human again.
My addition milked me dry, in such a short time, leaving me only a beating heart. And even that was fortunate, because I ended up in the emergency room close to a heart attack. Many times I took dangerous drug cocktails that should have left me dead. But somehow my stomach knew to vomit them out.
I could have killed other people countless times, as I hit 160. I could have killed myself, too.
For me, the road was quick and deadly, and I know that if I ever travel that road again. it will be my final journey.
