The Beast in the Back of My Head, pt 1

I have a beast in the back of my head. Sometimes I call it sin, usually I call it my addiction but I always refer to it as Satan when I put a person to it. You see, the beast in the back of my head came into my life with barely a whimper. For my first sin it was stealing a toy I really liked from my neighbor when I was 4. Actually it was probably lying to my parents when I was 3. At the time not that big of a deal as I cannot even remember it. For my addiction it was taking that first hit off of a joint when I was in 7th grade. Honestly when it comes to my addiction it was probably taking that first drag off of a cigarette when I was in 5th grade. I can remember that one.

Little did I know the sins that would follow and where they would lead me. If I only could have been shown the depths my addiction would take me to and actually believed it would happen, I might never have smoked that first cigarette. Strike that, I probably would have. After all, I was warned about where it would lead in some cheesy way or another several times in school. The problem was that I never heard it from someone who had been through it that I could relate to. And I never dreamed how big that beast would grow to.

That beast started out as a pup in the back of my head. It was something that made me feel a little better, and when I would pet it or pay it some attention it would purr at me. There was a little chemical release in my head that would occur, and I enjoyed the way that felt. I went from being abused at a young age feeling like I fit in no where to having friends. I went from being shy and introverted to being a brash, outspoken extrovert. I went from being depressed and hating life to being happy and loving life.

If it would have stopped there, it would have been great. I would use or "liberate" things I liked that were of no real value on rare occasions and I would feel better. But, the pup that I was feeding continued to grow. As he grew, things in my life got worse. My addiction grew too. I no longer used for the chemical release, but now I was compelled to use because my body had became dependent on nicotine. That pup grew into a beast without me realizing it had changed. I still saw it as it once was, cute and harmless. The people in my life who cared about me saw it as it truly had become, dangerous and spiraling more and more out of control.

Nicotine was no longer enough, so I tried marijuana and would occasionally do a line of cocaine. I could rationalize my use. Marijuana was from the ground, all natural. So was the beer that I would drink at keg parties, and it was legal. I may have been doing a line of cocaine on occasion, but I was not smoking it and was not shooting it up.

I tell you what, that beast in the back of my head was cunning. It would always tell me what I wanted to hear and make me feel how I wanted to feel. Soon, I was introduced to methamphetamine. From the moment I tried meth, my life was over. I would only do it on occasion, but I was compelled to do it more and more frequently. Soon, my body was dependent on methamphetamine. I was no longer compelled to do it. Meth was now demanded by my brain. Keep me numb and keep the chemicals coming if you want to be happy, and who doesn't want to be happy.

I was hooked, and suddenly just doing lines or smoking it in a bubble was not enough. I was shooting up. Once I shot up, I realized how much better that was. Suddenly, if I could put it in a needle I was putting it in my blood stream. That pup that was once so cute was now the beast that is currently in my head. And that beast will never go away, that beast is in the back of my head forever.