Testimonials

Sierra's Story - Freedom From Addiction

I’m a recovering meth addict. I’m not proud of it. I first tried my first line 4 years ago; he told me it was coke. The rush and all my feelings were gone – I wasn’t in reality anymore. I had a feeling it wasn’t coke, but I didn’t care it got me high, and that’s all that mattered. Then came the point where I needed more. That was ok; we had an endless supply.

After a few weeks, I realized it wasn’t coke; it was meth. I said I would never do meth in my life, but once I did the devil had my soul. I started smoking it all day every day, be up for weeks at a time. At the time I was being abused and accused. I was beaten and scared. I felt hopeless and unloved. I ended up moving to my mom’s, got a job at a gas station, and took care of my son. I was sober for a good four months. I ended up getting my own place. Eventually, I started using again. Thinking a little bit wouldn’t hurt. I lost my job and continued to use. I let in that one person back into my life, and it destroyed me all over again.

As the months went on, I was doing over 6 grams a day with my ex. There was never a day we didn’t have it. We made money and got high. Hot rails after hot rails. Snorting and chasing the dragon. Somedays we would smoke out the bitch. Tried to not have drug paraphernalia in the house. This was my life.

Behind closed doors, I was abused, accused of cheating, and emotionally abused. He locked me in my room in my own house, took all my electronic devices and was hacking everything, even my Wi-Fi router. He threw me drugs and told me to kill myself. I popped a bunch of gabapentin and a bunch of Vicodin 10s, as well as doing meth – I ended up overdosing. I woke up three days later. I asked him why he didn’t call the ambulance I could’ve died. He told me “I wanted you to die.” He was staring at the TV and working on the computer, phone, etc. He came to the point he was completely psychotic.

He told me I was cheating on him by talking to someone through a Pandora ad when all I would do was listen to music. But couldn’t do that. He held me back from my parents. He even told me I was speaking to a boyfriend when I had the phone on speaker talking to my dad. Is this normal? NO! This happened every day for weeks.

Once, I sat down outside smoking a cigarette. A guy came walking past the apartment complex. He saw him and yelled at me saying I fucked that guy. He took a shot at me till I was bloody and bruised up my face and body. I went back inside to my bedroom, he followed me in and continued to attack me. He pushed me on the bed and continued to choke me till I couldn’t breathe. Luckily I grabbed something and hit him in the head. I ran into the kitchen to grab a knife. I wanted to slit my wrist and kill myself. I felt so hopeless; I had nothing. I cut myself and he called the police telling them I was crazy. I eventually told them I was not suicidal and they gave me a card for the crisis center. I should have never lied to them.

That night only got worse. Every day I’ve dealt with abuse, choked, hit, punched, bruised, emotionally abused all day. It never ended. I continued to do the drugs because I felt no pain. Every punch felt like nothing. I was depressed and felt lonely, not good enough. He told me “I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again” I knew those were lies. He would lie to me constantly, cheat on me and did everything he could to hurt me and blamed all his wrongs on me. He has stabbed me, broke my ribs. I could never go anywhere without him accusing me. My life was hell. One day he beat me up so bad I was lucky enough to grab my keys run to my car get to Walgreens and call the police. When the police arrived, he looked at everyone and asked “What’s going on here?” in a calming matter. Police told him to get on the ground with lasers pointing at him.

As he was getting handcuffed and heading to the police car, he yelled and said “Better watch out b*tch I’m gonna kill you,” I believed him. I ended up leaving him. I knew I was able to because there was no way he could stop me since he was incarcerated.

I became clean for 11 months. My life was going good, took care of my son, etc. One day I thought it would be ok to try a little bit of meth. It won’t hurt me. I was getting q G’s, then went to 2 grams within a matter of 3 weeks. I was an addict. All over again. I found out my ex when he got out of jail. We talked, and he said he changed – I’m a fool for believing it. So I let him back in my life. He wanted to be sober, but I asked if he wanted to smoke with me. He did, and it began.

We took a trip to Chi-town, picked up our stuff and started hustling. We were making bank, but it only lasted for so long. He abused me all over again. This time I tried kicking him out of my house, and he wouldn’t leave. He begged to stay even though I’m all beaten up. I called 911. He was acting completely psychotic. He didn’t believe I called 911 until I put it on speaker phone. He begged and cried to exit the call. He had no place to go. I told him I wasn’t going to put up with the bullshit. The officers came and had the place surrounded on West Bridge St. They eventually caught him. Everybody in his family was mad at me and said its all my fault.

Later on, I had four other people living in my house. All we did was smoke every day and slang. We made money. I was working a real job, and I had other people work for me. We were all good, and my son was living with his aunt-in-law. Since I didn’t have my son, all I would do is get high with my people. Meth, Clonazepam, Xanax, Heroin, Percocet’s, Morphine, etc.

On April 2016 I got arrested for possession of Methamphetamine and drug paraphernalia. I sat the weekend in jail because of that, I got evicted and had a month to move. May 17 was the date. During that time all we did was get high and continuing slanging, partying every day. When May came around, I lived with my father. I slept there for two weeks and was on the road to be sober after that.

I was doing good for a month. I got a job, but in the end, I ended up stealing over $1400 of cash. I bought two zips. I didn’t even sell it; I just got high with everyone. I went back to Wausau, rented a hotel room. I saw everyone else shoot up. I thought I’d give it a try. I said I would never shoot up, but I started with 20cc’s, and it was the most amazing high in my life, so I continued to shoot up.

For over two months I lived in my car even though I had a home. All I cared about was getting high and being with my so-called “friends.” I loved escaping from reality and getting high with my people. We have had great memories, laughs, so many tweaker moments that I’ll never forget. Eventually, I was doing 2-3 balls of meth every day. Shooting up, smoking, and hot rails, all by myself.

It got so bad that there’s been a time I shot up five different times 30cc’s in 1 hr because I loved the euphoric feeling. Couldn’t get over the fact it felt so wonderful that I couldn’t stop. I ended up throwing up while I was driving because it was too much. I ended up shooting up pills and popping benzos, snorting heroin, it was bad, I was a full-blown addict. I was emotionally wrecked. Living with anxiety, depression, PTSD is so fucking hard. All summer I was running back and forth from Green Bay, Appleton, Wausau, and Flambeau. I boosted for a living. I probably had over $10-15,000 worth of merchandise for dope. I didn’t care as long as I was high. I would walk into the store and grab the most useful expensive stuff, especially electronics, phones, tablets, fit bits, etc.

Oct. 27 I got put on probation, I lasted two weeks and got incarcerated on Nov. 14. We ended up getting raided, Few weeks after being in jail I got four more charges due to Forgery and Theft of movable property $2000-5000. I was revoked on my misdemeanor paper. I sat for nine months, with a good time. I’ve learned a lot in the past 7 ½ months. I was attending all groups, meetings and participating in everything. If it weren’t for jail probably would have been dead. I was careless about everything. I thank God for another day.

I was released on June 4th, and I plan to keep my sobriety. I also want people to hear my story, as I hear theirs. This is not a life. No one should ever live like this. Meth ruins live's. I hope to help anyone I can and tell people about my story. This story is part of the things I’ve been through. But it’s enough to see what was happening to my life.

THIS IS MY STORY. IT’S NEVER TOO LATE TO CHANGE. IT’S NEVER TOO LATE TO GET HELP. I AM SIERRA JONES AND I’M A RECOVERING ADDICT. I WILL BE LIVING WITH PHYSICAL AND EMOTIONAL SCARS FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. Addiction is a monster, it lives inside, and feeds off of you, takes from you, controls you, and destroys you. It is a beast that tears you apart, rips out your soul, and laughs at your weakness. It is a stone wall that stands to keep you in and the rest out. It is a shadow that always lurks behind you, waiting to strike. Addiction lives in everyone’s mind, sitting, staring, waiting. A prisoner in your body.

* This story was submitted voluntarily to share hope and inspire others. This story is of their own experience and does not represent the point of view of Freedom From Addiction. Freedom From Addiction believes recovery is a personal journey and peoples experiences vary.

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