“WHAT DO I DO!?”

After eight jail visits, four rehabs, one sober house attempt, IOP’s, hospitals, etc., I found myself crying, detoxing, sleep deprived, living out of my car, and unable to get high anymore; no longer capable of living the life I was living. There seemed no way out. Parked outside of my mom’s house at 1 o’clock…

“Crack is Whack”

I was smoking crack by myself in a Motel 6 bathroom in St. Louis, my hometown.  I laughed to myself as I hit the pipe thinking of Whitney Houston saying, “Crack is whack!”  Crack was whack. This was the first time I tried it.  But crystal meth was my drug of no choice and I’d…