All to be heard

‘’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."