Dating Dope Dealers: Part 1



In 2015, the DEA made 6,353 arrests for heroin-related offenses. Conspiracy, distribution, and possession with intent to sell account for 84% of these arrests.


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Recently I came clean to my husband about the times I strayed away from him during the beginning stages of my harder addiction. He was telling me about his anger management session and how my darker days got brought up in the conversation. He said they discussed my infidelity’s & how he was able to cope.

Immediately my guard jumped up, before I ever saw what was coming, and the lying words I have worked so hard to rid myself of, came pouring out of my mouth thoughtlessly. I narcissistically asked him, “How could you not trust me after all of this. How could you not believe me.”

As he continued on, I thought about what I had just done…what I did not only to him, but to my spirit as well. I had just leaped out of my truth and dove head first, back into the depths of my despair.

I was barely able to push the words out as I murmured “I did do it”. He looked at me, taken aback, and said “You think I’m stupid, I know and always have known.” At this point, my hands raised to cover my face out of sheer mortification and a loud sob spilled from my lungs. I honestly don’t remember the last time I’d cried so hard. I was too disgusted with myself to even look him in the face while he assured me that he had “already dealt with it”.

Though we didn’t discuss the details, I fully intend to come clean completely… and though I may only have the courage to tell it to him through writing, I owe it to both of us to re-surface this pain and face whatever consequences will follow. I am completely prepared. I know a lot of women who feel great shame for the self-loveless part of their lives that were claimed by their addictions and I am in no way different for my shame is alive and well. I’ll stand tall in my story anyways.


Once upon a time there was a John Doe Dealer I was introduced to from a fellow broken hearted friend, who was a connection for my blues. I needed a few pills so I met this friend at an abandoned house out in North Cape Coral somewhere off Pine Island Road. This friend told me to come inside because they didn’t want the cops to witness a drug deal happening right there in the driveway. I nervously entered through the front door where there were people in sleeping bags all over the floor and there was not a single piece of living room furniture in sight.

I stood there waiting for the dope man to come out of the room where there were very loud moans singing from the other side. A few minutes of bullshitting and the door opens…out first walks a very pregnant woman with a boxer-bearing bald man not too far behind.

I waited for the friend to introduce me as he approached me looking at me like I was a freshly cut filet of steak standing in the middle of his very well managed trap house. I smiled shyly and began engaging in conversation with him. He had a Boston boy accent though he was not a boy at all and seemed to have years of experience with his business in dope dealing. I was young and naïve and hooked on the dope so I begrudgingly made the decision to go ahead and play with fire, ensuring I would finally live the dope life that my dope addiction was lacking.

This particular dope man was living drug free, and had been for quite sometime, despite all of the temptations surrounding him… it was admirable to me for some reason.  I was oddly attracted to his persona and was quickly falling for a man that was not my husband. It wasn’t long before I went to visit him and he had some woman sitting on his lap, and more women following him around every time I saw him again. I was furious to start out, & I began to swiftly throw my stones at his glass house  (which was completely hypocritical of me)  but after he fed me enough free drugs, I began to soften to the polygamous game he was very openly playing.

He was the kind of man that you would tell your dreams to and he would shoot them down right out of the sky, while you stood before him. He introduced me to all kinds of new drugs but would then become angry with me for being high. I told him I would never try heroin and he laughed in my face telling me to never say never. I told him I would never use a needle, and got the exact same reaction. He would have me drive him around, in his oversized black durango, while he collected debts and met people in the parking lot of the Edison mall. At first I thought those ventures were because he was attempting to show me he trusted me, it wasn’t long after that I learned he asked me to drive so that I’d be the one going down when the cops finally figured him out entirely. Which did not take long.

This man is now serving out his 15 year prison term. I spoke to him briefly through FB messenger sometime after, when he had somehow gotten his hands on a cell phone.

He told me that when he got out of prison, he’d be coming to my area to find me. This was not spoken as a threat, but frightened me just the same for I am completely awake to the fact that I am powerless to the substance itself.

One more time, will surely kill me. 

To be continued….

Pain-To-Purpose
Awakened since
08/12/15

08/12/15

Convenient Confessions

2 thoughts on “Dating Dope Dealers: Part 1”

  1. Wow. Super proud of you! I never liked heroin myself, nodding off isn’t my definition of a ‘good time’. I was more of a cocaine addict, but I was shooting it none the less. I did love to speedball though, so I hung around a lot of heroin addicts and I know how painful that withdrawal is (both physically and psychologically.
    Very impressed that you came clean to your husband as well. The fact that he not only knew, but dealt with it rather than leave you shows both how much he loves you and how special of a person you really are (even beyond this great work you’re doing with your From-Pain-to-Purpose organization). I believe women are harder to heal than men, because women feel things on a much higher emotional level, which is why this thing you’re doing is so important. Healing from an addiction is difficult enough, especially one that had you (excuse the crude language) sucking dick for dope is no easy task.
    It’s unfortunate that you went through this, but I’m glad you’ve created such a positive outlook and work ethic from it. Not to mention the F.P.t.P.
    Empowering people who feel helpless not only motivates and comforts them, you are literally saving lives (whether you’ve realized this yet or not). A lot of people just kill themselves when they’ve reached a level they feel they cannot possibly escape or recover from. I’ve lost many friends from suicide and/or intentional overdoses, because they could not tolerate the inner pain they felt. Losing my best friend, first to drugs, then to death, almost killed me. I literally had a mental breakdown from it, because she was like my sister. We weren’t blood, but we were much closer than friends, but not quite lovers either. While I was trying to help her recover, while keeping an eye on her at the same time (with Narcan on hand) when she did use, she ended up overdosing and almost dying in my arms 3x. The 4th time I was not there so she never woke up. At the time, I figured she was going to use whether I was there or not so the best solution I could offer was to have her live with me so I could offer the best encouragement I could give and be ready to save her if she overdosed. Obviously, she broke our deal and used when I wasn’t around.
    I was so completely broken and overwhelmed by grief that I ended up in the hospital shortly after. Her death impacted me to the point I started severely hallucinating, would fall into periods of complete unresponsiveness as if I were in some sort of coma, and ultimately ended up being admitted to a hospital for over a week where I was diagnosed with focal seizures. Losing her actually gave me a type of epilepsy that can still be triggered by extreme stress.
    I’m only telling you this, because I never want anyone to have to go through what her death did to me and I want to make sure you realize how vital the work you’re doing really is.
    My impression of you is so dazzling that I cannot find the right words to describe it. I hope that you are not only able help others recover, but also to help create more people like you. Unless someone has been living under a rock the past decade, this world is in desperate need of persons of your caliber and outlook. Unfortunately. I am currently one of those people that needs someone like you at this difficult point in my life. I am both lucky and grateful that I found you when I did. (Just to clarify I’m not on drugs, just been in a living Hell the past 4 years) and it is wearing me down to a level so low idk why I bother anymore. Everytime I think I’ve hit rock bottom, life tells me, “nope, I’m going to beat you even further into the ground”
    So, thank you for the work you are doing. I have mad love and respect for you right now. Keep it up.

    1. Shane that was so beautifully written. I don’t even know where to begin. I felt every moment of your pain while I read. You have a tremendous skill and though you feel so defeated now, I can tell you looking in from the outside, I am completely amazed by your strength and resilience. Your painful days have been weighing on me lately so I am organizing grief support meetings as well. Thursday at 8 pm EST. Thank you for digging so deep into your rawness brother, that takes great practice to learn. Keep warring brother♥️♥️

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