May 27th, 2009

The night before this picture, I was so dopesick, tossing and turning in my bed, thinking of ways to get money. It was getting late and I had school the next morning. I’m sweating, withdrawing, going through my phone thinking of a way to get money. I usually just take a hundred from my dad’s ATM card, but last time I tried it, it declined. I figured I’d try once more. I swipe the keys to my dad’s truck and take his ATM card to the gas station down the street with an ATM machine. I punch in his pin code, withdrawal from checking, quick cash, $100, (a process I was very familiar with), standing in front of the ATM in a hoodie, sweating. I waited for the the sound of money counting, but instead a message flashed on the screen: Insufficient Funds. FUCKKKK. I drove back home and put the ATM card back. I went through my phone texting anyone and everyone if they can front me some suboxone, methadone, or something. The texts I sent read, “Yo, I’m hurting, can you front me something, I got you tomorrow.” Nothing was working out, then I hit up Valentine.“ I got a new Blackberry Pearl, Prada sunglasses, and an iPod, how many blues will you front me.” He said 15. I had just got my Blackberry a few weeks ago. I begged my mom to get me it, the sunglasses my sister’s ex boyfriend left in her car and she gave them to me, and my iPod was a bullshit first-generation one. I found my old crappy Nokia phone, switched the sim cards and drove over to Valentine’s house in the middle of the night. He lived with his parents. he was driving a nice C class with AMG wheels at the time and it was parked outside. He came out wearing an ankle bracelet. He said nice truck and I gave him the phone, glasses and the iPod, he gave me 15 Roxys. I snorted three immediately right there in the car on a CD case. I went to school the next day and had four left from being up all night snorting them. I didn’t have my contacts in my eyes and was taking a test for PE in the cafeteria. I saw the school security guard but I couldn’t tell if he was looking in my direction. I threw the the remaining four Roxys in the pill crusher I would bring with me to school, crushed them up and put my straw in and inhaled. As I looked up the security guard was running towards me. He grabbed the pill crusher and put my hands behind my back and walked me to his office. He pointed to the pill crusher, “What's this?” I tried to grab it from him and run but another security guard held me down, his knee in my back, face on the floor. They opened the pill crusher and  found a tiny bit of residue. They asked me what it was and I said it was Adderall, not even realizing that Adderall is illegal unless you have a script. I should of said I was snorting something dumb and over the counter like triple Cs. They bagged up the tiny bit of powder to have it tested and called Officer Gonzalez to come arrest me. I’m no stranger to sitting in handcuffs. They did the paperwork and then my parents walked it. It’s so embarrassing, that feeling is just the worst. Like, “Oh, hey we, we have your fuck-up son here again.” My dad was so pissed. I told them I was snorting Adderall because I thought it would help me study, which is fucking retarded. I would never ever snort Adderall, but it was better than the truth. The truth was I’ve been addicted to pain killers for three years and I’m also smoking crack whenever I can. I remember Officer Gonzalez being really nice to me. He knew I was fucked up, not just high but mentally and emotionally fucked up. He looked me in the eyes and said, “Bryan you need help.” He looked over at my dad and said, “Your son needs treatment.” My dad didn’t say anything and neither did I. deep down inside I wanted to scream out for help. I knew he was right, he was sooo right. I wanted them to lock me up somewhere. I wanted help so fucking bad, maybe that’s why I snorted those pills in front of the security guard, maybe deep down I wanted to get caught. Officer Gonzalez left the room and my dad looked at me and sad, “Bryan, we need to know what’s going on. Is this some shit you’re just trying? Cause these guys think you really need to go to rehab or something.” I wanted help but all I could do was look him in the eyes and tell another lie. “Dad, I’m fine, they don’t know what they’re talking about. I’m fine.” 

I remember sitting there in handcuffs, thinking my life could not get any fucking worse. This was it, this was the end, but it was far from the end. I had no idea what the next five months would become. I got arrested and kicked out of school in October 2007. I was 16 years old, a month shy of turning 17. Addicted to crack and Roxys. Whenever I would withdraw, I would just take money out of my dad’s bank account, stealing here and there, selling pills and smoking crack on the weekends. That all changed the day after I got arrested. My dad changed his pin code and I was left with this giant habit and no way of getting money. So I stole everything I could, I robbed everyone I could. Getting jumped, car chases, for those five months, not a day went by that I didn’t think of suicide. My birthday, my mom’s birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, none of it mattered. There are no holidays or birthdays when you’re a drug addict. The worst part of being a junkie is how incredibly alone you feel.

Now I’ve been clean for over a year. The best part of being clean is looking back and realizing how incredibly blessed you are. 

I’m a survivor. 

6:45pm, I’m in the FRC parking lot waiting for The Mad Russian to show up. This is what I look forward to. I love doing service.