“I’m gettin’ the hell out of here,” I said, slamming the door.
My girlfriend and now fiancée, Jazmin, and I were having what was probably one of our worst arguments of all time. (I forget what it was about—probably something petty.) She was screaming at me, I was screaming at her, things were getting thrown. It was that kind of fight.
I had just gotten money from my income tax return, and I had a pocket full of cash. As I left the house, I thought, “Why shouldn’t I just have fun and smoke some meth?” It had been about a year since I had quit.
I started driving toward a person who I knew sold meth. When I was about six houses away, I started second-guessing what I was about to do.
“Here I am,” I thought. “I’ve got Jazmin, who loves me with all my faults.” I thought about how much she loves, and how much she’s done for me—including sticking by my side when I was quitting meth. And here I am, about to start back up.
But that still wasn’t enough to keep me away. I kept on thinking, “You’re better than this. You can’t do this.” But I kept on going.
Then I thought about the life Jazmin gave me—not only the life we share together, but also the fact that she gave me a life: my baby girl. My daughter is my lifelong career, my work of art. She is me, remade over. My daughter looks like me, she talks like me, she eats like me. I can’t go into Kroger or Walmart without people talking about how adorable she is. And I think, “She’s mine. That’s my girl!” She depends on me, and I’m going to be responsible for her the rest of my life. And, I thought, “What kind of example am I going to set if I’m high every night?”
And I couldn’t do it—I turned around and drove off. Instead of getting high on meth, I stopped at McDonald’s to get my family some food.
When I came through the door, I could tell Jazmin was about to yell at me—but when she saw the food, she smiled and said, “Why’d you get that?”
“It’s the only thing I could buy that wouldn’t make me a failure,” I said.
In that moment of stress, what stopped me from going back and relapsing into meth? It was three things, really.
First, that blue-eyed, blond-haired girl who is my work of art, my daughter.
Second, my beautiful, red-headed woman from hell (you know what I mean, girl!).
Third, I had a new start since meeting Jazmin, and I didn’t want to mess it up. Not only do I have these two beautiful girls that rely on me, but I also have to take care of me. I thought about my future, and my family. One night of me going back to meth could mean me the next day dead in a ditch.
Almost a year later, I’m so glad I made the choice that I did. Right now I’m flippin’ burgers at Wendy’s, and you know what? I feel happier than the richest man on earth, because money cannot buy what I have: a beautiful woman that loves me, a cute little baby girl, and another one on the way.
If there is anybody reading this that is either doing drugs or is thinking about doing drugs, I know what it’s like. I know what it feels like when you got that craving—it’s like an itchy spot on the roof of your mouth, and you want to scratch it. I know what it feels like when you feel the craving for the drug–it feels like a need, and not a want (when in reality, it’s a want, not a need). But don’t do it.
Yeah, drugs might seem like a good idea at the time. But in the long run, the only thing you can do is find something that makes you happy, and keep trucking. Whether it’s a family or a baby girl, or a hobby, or a career, you’ve got to find something in your life that makes it worth living. Don’t do it, because drugs are only gonna make your life worse. Instead of focusing on the past, think about what you can do to better your life, and the lives of people around you.
When you leave this world, what are you going to leave behind? A lot of people who are upset and sad that you are gone? Or another life that will carry on your name forever? Do you want people to remember you as a drug addict, or as a person who did extraordinary things for people?