A Day Inside the Mind of an Addict

A Day in the Mind of an Addict

To put in words is nearly impossible, as an addict's mind is one of the most complex, driven, and artistic things you will ever tap into. Before we dive into this chaotic and self destructive mind, we must first understand what I define as an addict! In my mind, an addict is someone who puts their high above anything else, and will get that high by any means necessary. I will give you a brief but detailed introduction of myself…..

I’m Zach, a 35 year old male that hails from the great Midwest, rural Indiana to be more specific. I started using at the early age of 12, from what I remember I started using because I thought it was cool, and it would be fun. What I was getting into and the direction I would put my life in, was never even a thought. What started out as fun, quickly became a way to numb any and all problems I had. At least temporarily. I guess the best way to put it, would be to mask any and all emotions. Don’t get me wrong, I would still be subject to major emotional roller coasters. Rather than realize I was medicating, I would instead chase that next bigger, more intense buzz. I started smoking marijuana and drinking at 12. Within a year that escalated to inhalants, stimulants, hallucinogens, opiates, and most of all depressants. I was the one in the group who never wanted to call it a night. The one who always pushed the envelope so to speak.

It started out getting stoned with buddies I would skateboard with. Most of the time, one of us would obtain the marijuana stealing it from our fathers, step fathers, big brothers, uncles, and so on. But somehow we always managed to get it. Alcohol was becoming a factor at this time as well. By 13 becoming an every weekend thing. Usually getting caught by my mother, and lashing out in fits and episodes of drunk babbling and crying about my father cheating and the divorce. I don’t know if it was really to blame, or I found that to be an easy excuse. Nonetheless, I dove in head first!

By 14 years old, I had experimented with Special K (ketamine aka tranquilizer), cocaine, in the form of powder, as well as crack cocaine. (Cocaine cooked with baking soda and water), LSD, (the first time was a sugar cube that cost us $11 a cube), Mushrooms, benzos (xanax mainly) and the big, easy to obtain cheapest one……inhalants. I got a little carried away with huffing Paint thinner and gasoline. Any amount is getting carried away. Nonetheless, you read that right, Gasoline! Also discovered Enduster Keyboard cleaner aerosol around this time. I was sneaking out to girls houses and very high while doing it! My first real overdose I can recall happened to be unleaded gasoline straight out of the can. I was inhaling the fumes straight from the metal can spout, just the fumes obviously. I recall a quick pounding of the head, and fuzzy, somewhat fading in and out and fuzzy like visuals. It was a summer day when I was in the garage, desperate for a buzz. I found myself taking some deep breaths and holding them in for a few moments, business as usual. That is until, I remember like this was yesterday, feeling like a tall concrete wall that was falling over and I couldn’t cushion the fall with my hands, or for that matter really even know that’s what was happening. I remember this concrete block/wall hitting on its side, and I woke up laying on the ground with blood gushing out of my mouth and dazed and in excruciating pain from my mouth. I knew right away I had bit my tongue, my chin was also bleeding. I had bit a chunk out of the back of my tongue about the size of a pinky nail. It was gushing blood and burning terrible, my chin was pounding. I anxiously looked in the mirror only to see my chin instantly turning black and blue. I was trying to regroup, I knew I had fucked up, went to far. But now I have to come up with a reason for these injuries. It was about that time I heard my mothers car door. I went in and did my best at acting shocked and in dire pain (pain was no act), explaining that I was running up our back concrete steps and slipped and busted my chin and in the process bit my tongue. To this day I don’t understand how I didn’t smell like a fueling station. My breath, my clothes, everything about me. Anyways, dad and mom both bought my story. I was in the clear. I remember thinking that day, never again, that was stupid and could of been so much worse.

Fast forward a few weeks, I had been sticking with marijuana, and dabbling with paint thinner aka mineral spirits. Pouring on one end of a washrag, then folding it up to a small square, inhaling from the dry side. The wet side of the rag directly behind it. We would repeat this until it started to dry up, then add more. It was also during this period we discovered household air fresheners, along with whip its, cool whip charge cartridges. Yeah, those were cheap, and fun…but I was always on the lookout for something stronger. That is when a friend told me about Enduster Cleaner, for keyboards. I was instantly in love. You push the nozzle, take a deep breath of the air coming out. Sit back, and seconds later seen nothing but fuzzies, like 1000s of x’s in your eyes flashing slowly. A wong wong wong flickering in your head. The deep voice that followed for a brief time was just a bonus and comical. I started doing this quite frequently. My first bad experience with it was in an alley that was gravel. We had just scored a can at a local pharmacy. We were passing the can, it was my turn, I took a big puff, and woke up in severe pain, once again my chin bleeding, elbows and knees gushing blood, and tiny bits of gravel embedded in both. Again, I had fucked up, I was not to happy about the pain I was feeling from this adventure. So being the responsible 14 year old I was, I held off until me and 5 of my buddies arrived at my house in my room. This is where I proceeded to try and beat my biggest, longest puff yet. I remember nothing but waking up sweating profusely, I didn’t remember anything, it was as if I had been taking a nap. I was groggy, but I knew there was more to it when I looked up to see my mom standing before me in tears, staring at all 5 of my friends and demanding to know what I was on. None of them said a word, I don’t think it was as much as being a good friend and not snitching as it was sensing the fear and sheer panic they saw in my mothers teared up eyes. To be honest I don’t remember what explanation I gave for that instance.

Fast forward a year or so, I had graduated to methamphetamine and cocaine at 15. One night me and a friend stole a gas grill per request of our meth plug, which happened to be manufacturing anhydrous ammonia/sudafed meth at the time. I was so excited to get a large quantity (half of an eightball, a lot to a 15 year old) I went and had a buddy purchase me five 40oz. Olde English Malt Liquor Bottles. Went home and had a heaping pile of meth on a black glass welding plate, doing lines. Miraculously I had drunk too much before I started doing the meth, which resulted in me passing out. I woke up the next day to my mother saying we need to talk. Instantly I remembered I had shit and knew this wasn’t going to go well. She called me down the stairs, and there it sat, on the table, a glass square, pile of meth, and piece of foil. She asked me what it was, I tried to lie, but no success. So after admitting what it was, she said now go throw it in the trash. Now this is where the addict part starts really mutating and showing its power over my life. I looked at the plate, and instantly panicked about the possibility of having to dispose of all that high grade meth. After all, I had worked hard for this. So I rounded the corner of the kitchen and swiftly scraped the pile into the piece of foil that was left behind. I quickly folded it up, and shoved it in my sock. I thought I had outsmarted my mother, it just gave me more confidence that I did not need. She sent me to school, but not before telling me she wanted me to go to my fathers for the weekend to think about it. It was 30 minutes away and my friends didn’t live there, not to mention, I wasn't very comfortable around him or his young girlfriend that he had wrecked our family for. Anyhow, I was pissed, went to school and upon arrival, a senior buddy of mine approached me (I was a freshman at this time) and said he had an eighth of mushrooms (3.5 grams), I had $4 to my name, price tag was 30.00 dollars. However he asked if I was interested to which I replied I want them, I'll have the money by the end of the day. Wow, I had my work cut out, with no plan on how to get it. My answer came from the addict part of my brain. It was as if it responded for me. Nonetheless, I managed to bum a total of $34 in change and presented him with it at the end of the day in a sock cap at his vehicle. Once again, chalk one up for me, I thought I was the smartest guy on earth. I’ll show her, sending me to my dads. I’ll just stay fucked up all weekend and party in the basement. And that I did. Sunday rolled around, I returned home and I remember my mother asking if I had time to think about things. Oh yes, I sure did! As smart as I felt, I couldn’t hide the feeling like a piece of shit lying to the person who would lay down her life for mine. Literally!

While we don’t have time to go over every overdose, drunken rage, paranoid spell of freaking out. There were several 100 over the years. Everything from Embalming fluid dipped cigarettes, to ecstasy that would have you believing you can talk to God. I progressed rapidly from a user, to a user/dealer. I had made friends with a couple fellaz several years older than me. They introduced me to a whole new world, consisting of making trips with them to Chicago, Illinois, and Hammond, Indiana to score large amounts of marijuana and cocaine. They would convince us younger guys to carry the drugs back from the pick up location and agree that if we got pulled over, we would also take the heat. Their theory to comfort us was simple. We were miners and would not receive much at all if any time incarcerated. While tempting us with usually a quarter pound of marijuana for carrying 2-3 lbs. And usually a generous 8 ball of cocaine for carrying an ounce. At the time, that was awesome for any 15 year old. I thought I was some type of Kingpin. Unaware that I could potentially face federal charges for the amount of cocaine I was carrying. Over the years I was dealing with every substance under the sun. I also had brief stints with various drugs. I would describe it as a phase at the time, in reality it was just what was readily available. My drug sales would pay for the majority of my personal use. But eventually that wasn't enough, so I would constantly find myself scrambling to get the money for the drugs I had done instead of selling to make what I owed. Not to mention at 14 being arrested for stealing my mothers car to go get beef jerky and getting it stuck. (forgot to mention) So I had been on probation for a year as well. I would smoke a week and clean out a week, while using shorter traceable drugs leading up to my appointments. We called them 3 day drugs. But I missed smoking marijuana because I could use it so regularly. Hard drugs were hard to maintain at that level of use.

I had never been much of a drinker, I mean I drank every chance I got, but just for the mind change. Now it was different, probation was preventing me from doing quite a bit. Alcohol didn’t show up in the drug test that day. So unaware of what I was doing, I turned into a severe alcoholic over the coming years. To brief you without going into detail, between the ages of 15 and 22 I literally put my family and self through hell. All of the following are 100% accurate and put in a list form to avoid a million more pages.

-Stabbed in the cheek, leaving a 1in hole to be stapled, drunk and trying to collect a meth amphetamine debt owed to a friend.

-Arrested 13 times, all drinking related, public intoxications, dui’s, disorderly, minor consumption, resisting law enforcement, etc.

- 4 vehicles basically totalled.

- Stabbed in leg multiple times, chunk of nose bitten off in nostril circle. Several chipped teeth.

-Broken back on 2 occasions resulting in 11 fractures. Nearly paralyzed.

-Multiple fights resulting in broken ribs, and a number of facial injuries.

- Kidney failure and emergency hospital stay after working out in jail too hard.

- Multiple ruined relationships.

- Multiple superficial suicide attempts as a plea for attention.

- Over 70 different sex partners. Many unprotected, resulting in std’s on more than one occasion. (luckily nothing terminal or permanent.

- Dying on the fourth of July at 25 years old from an alcohol/heroin overdose. Thank God my sister in law was there an is a nurse who got me breathing again.

- EKG and Colonoscopy and rectal bleeding by 19 years old. Diagnosed with gastritis and bi-polar/depression.

- Several years making trips to pill mill dr.’s for opiates.

- Over $50,000 in court costs, drug classes, probation fees.

- Over 300 hours of community service.

- Over $8,000 in restitution for vehicles wrecked.

- Multiple stays in jail, which means for fights.

- Getting shot at on 2 different occasions, one resulting in an innocent bystander getting shot while sleeping in vehicle.

- Over 90 stitches and staples in face, head, and neck.

I’m sorry to put it in a list like that, but we're talking 10 chapter books to cover some crazy, out of my mind, reckless nights or week long benders with no sleep. So now we get to the mind behind all of this chaos and self inflicted pain. The memories I missed out on can never be put in words, the hurt I caused those who cared so deeply about me, the friendships and relationships broken that will never be again, The countless sleepless nights my mother stayed up worrying herself sick, waiting on that phone call. She never gave up on me, One last thing before I let you in my fucked up head of emotional roller coasters and days of dark deep seeded depression and regret, guilt, and shame. I have a better grip on my addiction now than I ever have, but I use caution so as to not fool myself or convince myself I should be rewarded. Addiction had taken so much from me, robbed me of my dreams, left my mind a fucking trainwreck. Left me with an age of 35, but emotional capability of a teen at times. I am still learning everyday, and trying to manage my addiction. Luckily I have the best support system a person could ask for. It was hell getting here, and will forever be along as I allow it to be. But these demons, these descriptions I’m giving you, and accounts are all 100% true and accurate. This is my first attempt at putting in words for others to try and get an understanding of what it’s like. Forget why I started using, or how long, or any of the details, just know this is where I'm at, and what I'm left to deal with. As well as everyone around me who suffered right there with me. Those who didn’t think I would be alive today, including myself. This is all relevant, some may be thoughts of the past, struggles of my past or present. No timeline, just raw feelings.

No one wakes up saying I want to be dependent on drugs or alcohol, just as no one wakes up wanting to be addicted to anything in this life. Yet as humans, we all are, whether it be working out, running, eating, sex, gambling, drugs, alcohol, having a partner, shopping whatever it may be, we likely all have a vice of some sort. Obviously some are more dire than others. First you must understand, I am what in clinical terms is considered a Cross Addict. Meaning, I’m not, nor have I ever been chemically dependent on one particular substance. I was to a degree, the guy who would literally try, or do anything you put in my face as long as I was told or I knew it would alter my mind. Although alcohol was my biggest struggle over the years, only because it was most accessible and readily available.

I was never content with a bottle, or a couple pills. Or even a gram of cocaine or any type of speed. To be comfortable I needed a quantity. My method of thinking was I want to get fucked up, while knowing I can rest my eyes because I have things to get back to where I was when I wake up. An addict is already thinking about the next high before the drugs in his/her pocket are gone. The panic sets in, how am I going to get high tomorrow? Where am I going to get money, what if no one has anything. All regular thoughts in an addict's mind. I wonder if I can do just a bit more without overdosing. I would wake up, usually hungover from a cocktail of xanax in extremely high amounts mixed with toxic levels of alcohol. Or being up for days on some type of speed such as crack cocaine, methamphetamine, or prescription stimulants such as ritalin and extremely dehydrated due to the excessive amounts of alcohol i drank on top of the speed. When using speed it outweighs the alcohol therefore allowing you to consume very high amounts without all the effects of being drunk or passing out. A high risk for dehydration to the point of death. Not to mention the effects on one's throat over time. I never would steal to get my drugs, and if I did it was a few bucks here and there to get my half pint of vodka to calm my nerves. If I kept it at a few dollars then I could minimize the wrong factor of stealing. Everyday is a game within your own mind. You wake up feeling awful, not remembering anything from the night before, and rather than try to remember the prior night's events and most likely be embarrassed, instead I’d just start all over. When you're an addict you learn to barter, con, and rip off those who you consider more vulnerable, and willing participants. Almost every time the poor soul you were getting one over on was an addict as well. Most likely the reason they took the risk against their better judgment to begin with.

I would stay up 2-4 days, as the buzz would be crashing, so would any happiness in my soul. You start having to think about the reality of your situation, feeling guilty for all the lies. Justifying every wrong thing you did somehow. For me personally, it was always a reward type of deal. I would do good and not drink and use for 2 days (mainly because I was still to poisoned from the prior binge) that I would think I deserve to drink tonight. Knowing tonight meant the next 4 days of pure hell for myself and anyone within a phone calls range. You become a professional liar. Not because you want to, because to live this life you have to. You learn to read body language, pick up on peoples weaknesses and strengths. You observe everything around you, everyone as well. You do this because you're trying to mask the fact that you're literally walking around 90% of the time under the influence. Some addicts never master this, those of us who do, eventually come to think were smarter than everyone. That is until you wake up in a drunk tank a bloody mess, or sitting before a judge. However, we have some of the most creative minds in the world. But, I don’t think that's a special gift, I think we all have this ability. The difference between us and someone who doesn’t use is we’ve experienced a desire, a need for something so strong and powerful that most can't relate unless they've been in that position. We will go to great lengths to get what we need. The sad part is, we are never fully satisfied, actually most won't probably admit it. But were quite miserable. For whatever reason we started using, is irrelevant. Were here, and now must maintain this lifestyle we’ve created. For some this translates to selling drugs, stealing, robbing, burglarizing, and any other means of doing things they wouldn't normally do because of addiction or not, we know right from wrong. Drugs can take a lot from you, but they don't take what knowledge you already have. We know were hurting others to please ourselves. In order to cope, we make it their fault. If they don’t want to understand were addicts and allow and enable us to be so I can avoid being sick, and irritable, then fuck off. At least that’s the way we like to twist it. Drug addicts and alcoholics seem to have one major thing in common….We are famous for playing the victim. Not because many of us actually want to be a victim, but because it allows us to justify our bullshit behavior. Anyone who questions us, corners us, or demands answers, is an enemy. A cold hearted, arrogant bastard who doesn't understand what we're going through. At least that’s the way we like to paint the picture. We know deep down that’s not the case, but we have to attack anyone who questions or attacks us for our use, otherwise they may start to get to others around us that enable us. We end up telling so many lies we can’t keep up and get angry with ourselves when we can't keep up. In my heaviest days of use, you could catch me with a needle hanging out of my arm, and I would somehow justify it and call you everything but a human for even questioning what I'm doing. We're always in defense mode, or of course what I like to call it, bullshit mode.

I've been told I could talk someone's teeth out of their head if they weren't attached. Going through the court systems, drugs classes, etc. You learn to bullshit the best of them. And if you don't, we’ll see you when you get out. Were never at peace with our addiction, were forever more questioning why us? Why can't I be normal? You can literally put an addict through hell's flames, but if they're not ready to be done, they won't be! You have to dig deeper than you ever have, you have to decide your taking control of your mind and body back. Be honest with yourself, for instance when your “quitting” As an addict I know that means one of several things……

Quitting because I'm playing damage control after the last binge and want to appear sincerely sorry, most of the time as a diversion technique. Seeing my faults, recognizing I need to stop, and deciding I'm done, All while in reality I'm lining up and putting the plan in motion for my next escapade.

Quitting because we’ve hit a low point and had a flash of self evaluation, and did not live what we saw, then we start feeling better, looking better, and doing better and why reward ourselves with a buzz.

Quitting because the court system leaves you no choice.

Quit long enough to keep your enabling cushions around, for instance a place to sleep, place to eat, and many times an income source.

You’ve gone too far and there’s no turning back, for instance cancer, liver and kidney failure, or several other possible health factors.

You truly want to enjoy and live what life you have left. Your exhausted and giving up.

In my heart of hearts I believe most addicts will experience all those at one point or another. I’ve come a long way, but also have to be aware of dangerous behaviors and habits. For instance not allowing myself to just eat until my health is at risk, or gambling in place of the rush from drugs. There’s so many triggers around us. We live in a country driven by sex, drugs, and money. They all are relative to each other. Just keep in mind, addicts don't lie to anyone as much as they do themselves on a daily basis. To cope with being what we feel is a disappointment, weak minded, pathetic, worthless, hopeless, shameful, forever indebted, and whatever other millions of emotions we experience. As I stated before, and will frequently….no one wakes up wanting to be an addict.

When it all boils down, is the prescribed xanax, wine-o soccer mom any better than us? Or is a 500 lb fast food addict? It doesn’t matter, forget those thoughts, they don't impact us and our success. If you're recognizing yourself as an addict, there's probably a good reason. And congrats on admitting you have lost control. I still to this day mess up from time to time, and I know my triggers and my weaknesses. But yet, here I am still battling. I am slowly making progress and gaining distance between me and this progressive monster. The trick is to not become over confident. Always be aware how powerful and destructive addiction is and has become for you in your life. Some will never understand, unless perhaps it's them taking their last breath. Every brain is different, every mind thinks differently. But at the end of the day, an addict is an addict. I don’t believe once an addict is always an addict. Always a former addict maybe, or recovering addict, but not just an addict. I hope you enjoyed reading this short glimpse of my life, as I will be writing more specific events and life changing events in my life if there’s interest in knowing more. I don’t make any claims to having a cure for this terrible epidemic, but I will say, staying healthy mentally and understanding when you're not well is a key factor. I don’t care who you are, we all long to feel happiness and no pain, some of us at any cost. It's never too late, there's always tomorrow. July of 2022 will be 5 years sober from alcohol. One of my biggest accomplishments without a doubt. But until I can sober up from all mind altering substances, I have a lot more work ahead of me. I'm learning and I welcome you to learn with me and come along for the journey. Let's see where this road to getting control of our lives back takes us.