I am a fabulous dressing, master’s degree holding, funny, divorcée. I don’t look like a meth addict. I got sober before my daughter was born.
My closest friends also know that for a couple of brief periods in my life, I did cocaine. A lot of cocaine. Way too much cocaine. I’m hardly the first writer to find that cocaine made my words sparkle.
“Drunk,” “junkie”, “crackhead”, “stoner”, “dope fiend”, “pill popper”, and “coke head”. These words used to easily roll off my tongue when I was using.
As an addict, I must learn to deal with my emotions in healthier ways. The emotional struggle of the day is guilt. I should feel happy and complete sitting here, feeding my six-month-old breakfast; watching her play between… Read More