It was so bad:
It is embarrassing to even tell myself. The memories now are the kinds that make you put your head in your hands and say in breathy sighs, “Oh my God”.
It was so bad I should have died. The physical abuse to myself was horrendous. The price I pay later in life I truly hope has some grace bestowed upon it.
It was so bad I lost every worldly item one could imagine. I had stuff at one time. A whole bunch of stuff. Lots of stuff. Really good stuff. Lost it all. I guess not really lost, more like willing to pawn, sell or trade for crack.
I lost respect for myself. I hated myself. I would get so angry at screwing up again. I would go to meeting after meeting. I would go in and out of treatment centers. I believed I would never get rid of this crack-crap! I had resigned to a life with this hell. Let me see if I can make some kind of life, and have the “Devil’s Candy”, too. This can’t be done.
The only true meaning to the word can’t is….You CAN”T mix a life and crack-cocaine. CAN’T be done. CAN’T smoke crack and have a life of any substance. CAN’T be done.
What a moron I was to my mother. What a creep I was to my father. What an idiot I was to everyone. What a looser I was to my family. What a complete fool I was in God’s eyes.
It Was So Bad...