“I thought I could keep it small.
Once or twice a week, just enough to take the edge off.
But it didn’t stay small. It never does.”
That’s how Crystal begins.
No lies. No sugarcoating. Just facts.
From Control to Collapse
It started slow.
A bump here. A pill there. A hit when the stress was too much.
One or two times a week — that was the plan.
But plans don’t mean much when addiction gets its hooks in you.
What started as “just a little” turned into daily use.
Every. Single. Day.
Wake up, use. Crash, recover. Repeat.
A Life Devoured by the High
Crystal’s whole world shrank down to this:
Getting high and trying to come down.
The cravings weren’t once in a while.
They were every morning, every night, every minute in between.
That itch that never leaves, that voice that never shuts up.
And everything else?
Gone.
Her job is gone.
Family — pushed out.
Friends — disappeared or left behind.
Addiction took it all.
She stopped attending family functions.
Stopped being part of anything that wasn’t about the next hit.
Her “social life” became nothing but getting high.
Abuse, Survival, and the Cost
Crystal’s relationships?
Toxic.
Abusive.
Dead ends dressed up as love.
She sold herself for drugs.
Did what she had to do to feed the habit.
And it cost her, in ways that don’t heal easily.
She carries the marks of it.
She’s living with injuries from hands that should’ve never touched her.
The Truth She Knows Too Well
Crystal doesn’t fake it.
She knows where all this pain comes from.
“My problems? They’re from the addiction,” she says.
“And I can’t stop.”
Her tolerance is through the roof.
What used to get her high barely has the same effect anymore.
She needs more, and it still doesn’t feel like enough.
And when she tries to quit?
Her body turns on her.
Withdrawal puts her in the hospital.
Her body is begging for what’s killing it.
Still Here
This isn’t some redemption story.
Crystal’s not writing from the other side.
She’s still in it.
Still fighting.
Still breathing.
That counts for something.
Because in a world that chews up and spits out people like Crystal,
being alive is the first act of defiance.
If you see yourself in this story, know this: there’s help. There’s hope. And you’re not alone.