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The Social Impact of Drug Abuse pdf
Effects of substance abuse
Effects of substance abuse
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Recommended: The Social Impact of Drug Abuse pdf
Growing up from 7th grade on, something was different with me. I was always anxious and depressed. I began staying home from school in 8th and 9th grade. I was struggling. Freshman year, things started to go downhill. Pushing away everyone who cared about me, had become second nature. My family situation was a mess. I began at a new school for my 10th grade year, and about 2 months in, I was bullied and slut-shamed so bad that I had to leave that school. I developed a substance abuse problem and was using daily. My life was in a burning trash can. One day, I got sent to rehab by my parents. I went to Sunrise Academy and turned my life around. Even though it took me a year and a half, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that day that I was
Life wasn’t always so bad, or at least that’s what they told me. From what I remember of my child hoods great memories my family speaks so highly of, if there were any at all, are all clouded in my mind by the what I can remember my life being. At times I find myself going thru old pictures of when I was a child and think to myself. Why can't I remember this day? I looked to be a happy healthy baby then my heart turns in a cold way. Growing up to a parent addicted to drugs and alcohol is no way for a child to be raised. I had to grow up at an early age and didn’t truly get to experience life the way a child should. My family tells me Marquise you were so loved by so many people and your Mom tried to do the best she
On my arrival in the United Kingdom from my native Zimbabwe, I had my first meeting with an individual with a serious heroin addiction when I found myself sharing a flat emergency accommodation at Lady Beck Close in Leeds. Items of value went missing until the person responsible approached me and accepted responsibility. He apologised for the thefts but explained at length the serious problem with substance misuse that he had. He explained how he dropped from University where he was studying dentistry because of drugs. He expressed his desire to quit but failed despite the care, support and help he received from so many professionals.
After making the difficult decision of moving out from a school I called home and attended since Kindergarten, my freshman year in a new environment made for a rocky start. I fell into the wrong crowd, tried getting out, but kept making bad decisions, which eventually led to a deep depression. My dreams I had as a child were fading before my eyes, and negative thoughts consumed my mind. I started to believe that I had no purpose and could never amount to anything, but the four days at Camp Barnabas in Missouri changed the course of my entire life. This experience was important to me and helped sculpt me into the person I am today.
To begin with, my life five years ago was very swell. I was fourteen years old and in the eighth grade. I hadn’t got a job yet, I didn’t have very many friends, I was very shy and antisocial and was always on the computer. I was getting excited about my Washington D.C. trip with my school but I was also very nervous about having to share a room and a bed. I was even more nervous because I knew what shorty was going to follow; which was me going over to the high school to become a freshman. I was only so nervous because it was going to be a new place, a new school and a bunch of new faces around me. Then again I was very happy in life because I had set goals but I am also very happy in life now.
This reminder of smoker’s etiquette attempts to rise from the back seat, but the bumping speakers drown it out. I am in the driver’s seat of my car, floating on a thick cloud of music and smoke. My eyes close, my lungs fill, my head nods and becomes lost inside a hip-hop haze of bass, high hats, and trumpets. Just before Big Boi introduces his “Spottieottiedopaliscious Angel” a hand cuts through the smoke and whacks me in the back of the head. Leaving the music, I turn around, take a huge toke, give the middle finger (all in good fun), and pass the joint to the backseat. For the next twenty minutes my friends and I sit in my car, parked, windows up, seats laid back, and fill every crack and crevice with the sweet smell of marijuana smoke. We aren’t drug dealers or dope fiends. We are just four high school seniors getting prepared for class.
As I stated earlier, when I graduated from High school, I didn’t have a care in the world. My biggest worry was where I wanted to play baseball, and where I was going out that weekend. I was given a car for graduation as well as a credit card for gas. After graduation I received a baseball scholarship and didn’t have to worry about how to pay for school. This along with other things that I had taken for granted led me to believe that the whole world was peachy with nothing negative that would affect me. The only trauma in my life was if a certain girl didn’t want to go out with me. This to me was a significant emotional event. Not only was I naive, I was somewhat jaded as well. I believe this was a result of the environment that I grew up in as a child. I moved to a different part of the country every two years from...
i had never really been told drugs were bad my dad was a coke addict and my brother was a heroin addict but i was still never told not to do them i just had a netrual view on them and i don't really mind any drug and drug user as long as they aren't gonna fuck you over and be nice to you and other people. you'd be suprised who uses drugs basicly everyone who has a working class job does something its just a big secret. Im not trying to make me look like a good person or not seem like i am crazy. i know i have problems this is just a little story about my life.
Heroin, a narcotic that is a hard drug; a highly addictive morphine derivative, or in my definition a drug that may ruin bonds between family, friends, and anyone you may care about. It morphs you into a completely different person. That definition may not apply to everyone, but it so for my father. I would of have used to describe my father as the man who first captured my heart, who was goofy, intelligent, hardworking and my best friend. However, if you would ask me how I see my father now, I would say my father is just an addict, who will do anything to get his hands on drugs: a thief, lonesome, and lost. At age 12, I discovered the effects of this horrible substance that forever impacted and changed my life.
They tell me that I’m addicted. But little did they know, I’m just passionate. They don’t understand why I do this drug, and they probably never will.
The lights were harsh as I opened my eyes. There was a large tube coming out of my stomach. My parents sat to my hospital bed. I turned to them and gave them as much of a smile as I could muster. They started to cry. My dad hugged me tight and it hurts, but I hugged him back. The doctor came in and explains that I “overdosed on Percocet and alcohol last night and am lucky to be alive.”
Growing up with my mother in prison and an abusive drunk for a father; life wasn’t particularly what you would call “great.” At the age of six my step grand-father began to sexually abuse me every weekend when my step mom and my dad would drop me off at my grandparents house. The abuse continued until I reached the age of twelve; he’s now serving a twelve year sentence. As you would assume growing up with all these unfortunate events I was bound to have “issues” as my step mom, Julie, would say. Well, she was right. At the age of thirteen my parents took me to see a counselor they were worried I had become depressed and wanted me so badly for me to be “a normal kid.” I only went twice due to financial issues. My dad could never keep a job so there were times we went with no lights,
As an adolescent, my single mother decided to marry a drug addict. The attention was not on me but on him to feed his addiction. Soon enough, we did not have money to pay the electric or the water bill. My mother had to cash in the savings bonds my grandmother would send me every Christmas to make ends meet. The bonds did not last and we were forced to live in the dark and without water. I was forced to get ready for school in the dark. I remember vividly having to wash my hair in the sink with a gallon of water. I remember having to bathe myself in a rag when not months before, I had a hot shower every night. This was my first encounter with poverty and I thought I would never leave.
Have you ever had a time in your life where you felt like everything was just dumped on you? I did, and undoubtedly it happened just as I came to school at State University. That saying, “When it rains, it pours,” just seemed to fit me perfectly. Within a two week period one of my friends from high school committed suicide, my grandma went in the hospital, and my boyfriend broke up with me. Yet, from these experiences in my life, I grew, more than I have ever grown before. This is why I am writing about it. Although, everyone goes through hard times, there were not many people out there who related to me. That is why it was hard to get help when it was needed. Maybe someone can learn from my experience and be just as strong as I was.
Substance abuse is an issue that plays a major social problem in society, the effect of drugs on families and communities is destructive. This paper will discuss evidence showing how substance abuse is a specific social problem that is widespread, and is affecting every level of our judicial system. Many people turn to drugs for many different reasons, they will try just about anything to relieve the pain. In our society today many people go through devastating experiences in their life. Furthermore people turn to drugs to mask the horrible memories and find relief. Drugs can temporarily relieve the symptoms of angry, loneliness or boredom, but it may be a temporary fix to an individual problems. They may
It wasn’t bad enough that I had these "issues" my mother (adopted mother) made sure to stop my pills because she said, I wasn’t "crazy.” I lived all these years with a complex, labeling myself as crazy, worthless, no good, thinking I would never amount to anything the list goes on and on. Once I started high school I was accepted by my peers I never felt better I finally was surrounded by people who liked me. This is where I started to go downhill, I was more into what my peers thought of me and more focused on being the class clown than doing my work and paying attention a result of this I graduated by the skin of my teeth. At age 17, I moved into my own apartment, I learned to manage my money pay my own bills and keep my job. I fought for everything I needed and had because I didn’t have anyone who would pick up the pieces when I fall. I jumped from one job to another feeling so hopeless and thinking to myself that this is it, I will never amount to anything. Depression hit, I wanted more for myself, but what?