‘’I met you at my lowest point, full of distress, feeling like I was at gunpoint. I knew you were bad for me, but I thought to myself, \'A little won\'t hurt; I won\'t convert.\' Lessons were taught, priests were brought, but it was not enough to conquer the thought. I fought with all my might to overcome this feeling, but the momentum overran me.
Every day, I\'d sit in my room, trying to resist, but I was standing on the precipice, unsure of which way to turn. I hit rock bottom and retreated into isolation. I\'d sit in the dark, using my blunt, hoping I\'d take a tumble and collapse. Silently, I\'d take blows of cocaine, slowly losing sight of who I became.
I was never afraid nor had anything to gain, but it was the only way for me to sustain the little sanity I attained. My mood changed, and I wanted something stronger because it really never did it for me. I looked and I met the one who could give me the feeling of ecstasy, not just therapy. One blow was never enough, neither were three; at the end of the day, I\'d have taken not less than twenty-three.
Not knowing, I became a shadow in my own life, piercing everyone that came for the strife. Who was I lying to? I had no inkling of peace, just a cascade of unblissful treats - treats that would leave me on the streets for as long as I continued to go on with this ungrateful deed.
My mind was filled with undoubtful pleasures, seeking no gratification for what I did. People thought, \'Maybe it\'s a phase; she\'ll get out of it.\' But to their disbelief, there I was, standing in clear belief that my life had come to a freeze. Not sure of what to do next, my mind went into deep shock.
Desperate to get help, I found myself in a deep well - too hard to get out. Hungry to get more, I made worse decisions than before. I was not going through anything; all I wanted was a different experience that would alter my existence. At what cost was I willing to be heard? Was it all the end? At that point, I wished I was dead; maybe then it\'d spread the word.\"