My friend had eventually gained my trust. He told me to break contact with my user friends. Go back to school. Helped me get back into contact with my family. It was a long and difficult process.
At some point he would literally feed me because I refused to eat. I just couldn’t because my body was all fucked up inside. But it was so humiliating that I started to eat a bit eventually. Not much but it was a start.
At some point the drug use was really bad, I think I had used about 8 pills and alcohol and all that. I was at an end, trapped and completely gone. One pill was left. It was the first time I didn’t go on until everything was gone. Because I knew that if I had done that I would have been gone. It would have been the end of me and he would find me dead.
However, I did go on using after that but it wasn’t the same.
At some point I wanted to stop. One part of me had already wanted that but the addiction was too strong and winning.
He decided to help me. I had scored a lot of drugs and he asked me how much I had left. Then he kept me inside. He told me not to go see those user friends anymore. Most of them were using me for sex anyway and I hated it. Other ones were girls like me. So I stayed in the house. He let me use drugs but when I did he would ignore me. So that made me sad and feel horrible instead of enjoying the drugs with other users like I used to. I felt stupid. Of course I left again sometimes, in the beginning. Eventually I stayed.
Controlling my mind wasn’t the only difficult thing. Trust was difficult too. For both of us. I lied but always ended up telling the truth when I felt comfortable enough. I would be stubborn and difficult too. Pushing him away, feeling scared and confused. I had a lot of flashbacks and fears but he stayed calm. Kept to three things: structure, rest, cleanliness.. really old school.
Then there was the withdrawal. I felt like my body was itching all the time, I was restless and sick. Depressed.. everything was fucked up inside. My skin was irritating from sweating out the poison. At night I couldn’t sleep and my muscles would shake or I had shocks going through my body. It was horrible. I would become angry because my mind would make him the bad guy. He would just listen and accept my excuses after I’d come back to myself.
Eventually it got better. I still forgot a lot! And my memory still isn’t that great. Same with concentration actually.. I couldn’t finish school in the end. But I did have some contact with my family again because of him. My mom wanted to make a statue for him, she joked about that but she just meant she was thankfull. I ended up living with him for a year. He even took me to family on sunday afternoon. Until I got my own house.. where eventually the pain came out again but at least this battle was over for now.
This is the short version of one part of my life. One battle.
We remained friends 🙂