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A lot of my family struggle with drug addiction. That's why I've always been so anti-drugs all my life. I've always sort of felt a strange 'temptation' to use them, especially because my mental health wasn't always the best, but I always fought it. Slowly though, I've noticed drugs starting to creep into my life. It started with smoking cigarettes (which is a filthy habit, I know ). Then it got onto weed- brownies, that sort of thing. From there it spiraled out of control. Now I'm sat in my room with a bong between my thighs and bags of MD in my pocket. I've become what I always resented my family for.
Thing is, whenever I see my family, I still preach how must I hate drugs and hate that they use them. But, I'm a liar and a hypocrite, because now I'm just the same. Well, not quite yet. But I've started down that road and I really don't know how to get off it. With my genes, depression, and just my general contempt for life and people- it seems inevitable. I feel like I'm doomed.
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Just cause you're using them now doesn't mean you can't stop and have a better future.
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