I didn't want to die. But I didn't want to live.
I remember how hopeless I was. I didn't know how to live without my solution — the drugs and alcohol.
Here's the truth: the drugs were never the real problem. I was my problem.
I was restless, irritable, discontent. Nothing was ever good enough. I tried to fill that big hole in my soul with money, girls, cars, clothes — nothing worked. The drugs worked for a while. Eventually the consequences piled up and the drugs stopped working too.
At that point I was left with the person I hated the most: me.
I needed a new solution.