How Drugs Hijacked my Brain

Doing drugs isn’t just a choice, it’s a lifestyle decision. Once a person starts getting high, they have to put a lot of time, effort, and dedication into it.

Constant plans about how to get money for your next bag, while maintaining “appearances” and pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes proves to be a full-time job. Using drugs isn’t easy and being addicted is one of the hardest things anyone will ever go through, but it doesn’t stop there. The mental insanity a person experiences while in a full-blown addiction is a waking nightmare I don’t wish upon my worst enemy.

I’ve been clean for a while and every now and then I think back on my years as an addict and can’t believe how truly insane the drugs made me. I was badly addicted to cocaine, opioids, and meth, and I never let anything get in the way of my next shot. I stole from my parents and any job I worked for. I lied about literally everything. I’d even lie about what I ate for breakfast. I bounced from Massachusetts, to Florida, back to Mass, and back to Florida in attempts to run away from my addiction, but somehow, it always found me. Sleepless nights led to dopesick mornings as the cycle continued on.

What I found really surprising while thinking back on my addiction were some of the decisions I made. They were so illogical and crazy that the only conclusion I can come up with was that the drugs seriously hijacked my brain.

For instance, I was working a normal 9 – 5 job at the height of my cocaine addiction and had completely run out of money, so I thought a logical solution was to steal a bunch of cash and go get my fix. I told myself I’d just lie my way out of it and I’d never get caught. That’s what a drugged-out version of me thinks is a good idea. I didn’t think about any of the reality associated with that decision, like the fact that there were checks and balances within the company, security cameras, other employees, etc. that would result in me getting caught. Didn’t even seem like an issue.

I was put on probation years and years ago. I had gotten arrested and charged with a slew of felonies. I spent some time in jail, eventually bonded out, went to court, and was offered probation and misdemeanors instead of prison. The day I went to court and was officially sentenced, the judge told me to make sure I checked in with my PO within 24 hours. Any other sane person in my position would keep their nose clean and go check in with the PO so they don’t chance going back to jail and/or prison. Instead of doing what I was supposed to do, I decided to hide out and smoke meth for a few days before I felt “ready,” to start my probation.

Every time I think about that, it unnerves me how truly crazy I was. My thought process wasn’t remotely normal and didn’t make any sense. I made such illogical decisions, I don’t even know how I survived.

Drugs literally hijacked my brain and turned me into a completely different person that I don’t even recognize. That’s not me. That’s me all whacked out. It’s like someone else was behind the wheel and I was tied up and held hostage in the trunk.

And that’s the scariest thing about it. While I was addicted, I had no control and no choice in the matter. The drugs decided everything for me.