My grandfather died of a heroin overdose 40 years ago, and I'm high as fuck right now

***Trigger warning. I'm not a good writer. I'm just trying to get this out, and I'm pretty high. Probably not worth 10 minutes of your time.*** My grandfather died of a heroin overdose 40 years ago. I've never even seen heroin, let alone done it. I've been very outspoken against all addictive drugs, and I've had a very complicated relationship with my mother because of it. She's also a heroin addict, and she's always been very unhappy that I refused to try it. She was addicted to heroin when I was born, and my father left because of it. Addiction runs in my family, and I've always been afraid of it. I've only tried marijuana and alcohol because I've been told (even by my doctor) that I could never get addicted to those drugs. My uncle went on a trip up north with his friends last weekend. One of his friends was a drug addict. The friend died of a heroin overdose during the trip. They couldn't bring the body with them in their car, and they didn't want to stay in that city any longer than they had to, so a few of them decided to divide up the friend's drugs amongst themselves and bring them back home. My uncle was one of them. When my uncle got home, he called me and told me that he had "something" for me to try. I was horrified. I told him he needed to get rid of it, and I called my mom and told her to tell him to get rid of it. My mom told me to come pick some up, and I got angry. She told me that the friend was a good person and that she deserved to be celebrated, and that I needed to get over my fear. Something about what she said stuck with me. I've always been afraid of heroin because of family trauma. My grandfather died of an overdose when my mom was 13, and that sent her spiraling. She's never been able to get over it, and she's always been angry with me that I refused to try heroin. I don't know why I decided to do it, but I think it's because I wanted to connect with my mom. I want her to be happy. I called my uncle back and asked him if I could come pick some up. When I got there, he told me that he'd been experimenting with it that morning, so he didn't have much left. He was a little obsessive about the dosage. He said he'd done a lot of research, and he was worried that if he gave me too much, it wouldn't be fun. I told him I'd just take a little bit, and he was satisfied with that. I went home and I went into my bedroom and I prepared the drugs. I don't know why I'm writing this. Maybe I'm trying to get this out before something bad happens to me. I don't know. I did the drugs. I'm high right now. It's not that the high is pleasurable. My mom was right, it kind of feels like a shadow. But I feel like I'm guaranteed to never have a bad day for the rest of my life. There's something so comforting about that, and I finally understand why my mom is always so fixated on it. I'm high right now, and I don't know what to do with myself. I'm online shopping (nothing too crazy, but it's definitely going to be hard to explain to my boyfriend in the morning.) I've been crying for a while, and I don't know why. I feel so happy, and I want my mom to be happy too. ***DO NOT*** read this and come away thinking that heroin is a good drug. It's not. But it is a drug, and there's nothing you can do about it. It's here, and it's going to stay here, and it's time to start thinking about how to deal with that reality.

My grandfather died of a heroin overdose 40 years ago, and I'm high as fuck right now

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