OK so we get to the worst part of my addiction history.
I was living in Ghettowood apartments on the south side of Richmond, and had just gone through the most intense summer of my life. I left out a few things in previous posts for the sake of my narrative.
Three days after the accident the police showed up at my apartment to get BP. Not only had he violated his probation they also had filed child endangerment charges against him. So when Allison was at her worst I was alone.
My head was spinning. BP said he had just walked out of the room to get a towel, but I kinda don't believe it. Odds are he was high and nodded out. I will never know the full truth and maybe I'm better off not knowing.
Allison had recovered really well and BP was finally back home. Then I got the shock of my life.
One day I went to go into the bathroom and caught my husband with a needle stuck in his arm. I was just agape, he had always messed with pills but nothing any harder.
So I decided to make him feel bad. I thought if I forced him to shoot me up himself maybe he would be hurt by the image so bad he wouldn't do it ever again.
Granted I was scared to death.As soon as I saw the bright red blood pull into the syringe and he pushed the plunger I was in love. All my problems went away and the rush was incredible. Thus began my love affair with heroin.
As always thanks for listening and God bless!
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