Intervention

It seems like just yesterday. I was happy with my simple and uncluttered life, not realizing that everything was about to change. Then, out of the blue, someone I considered to be a close friend came to me and said “Look what I have. It’s great! You should try this stuff. It will be fun. We’ll do it together”. We went out and got more. A desperate looking woman tried to warn us that we would never be able to stop, told us she had already spent hundreds of dollars. In private, we laughed. That would never happen to us. We were just recreational users. Spending hundreds of dollar? That was just a sign that she was weak. We knew what we were doing. We could control this. Or, so we thought …

Now, years later, I can admit that I’m an addict. Weekends and evenings are spent hunting for more of the stuff. I always crave more. My oh-so-patient husband has spent hours in the car, waiting for me to get my fix. My house is cluttered and filled with paraphernalia. Every spare moment I have is devoted to this terrible, insidious obsession. And the money I’ve spent, oh, the money.

I hope that sharing the tale of my descent into addiction will help others avoid the same fate. This is my story. This is my brain on beads.