End of my rope in Florida Feat Paul Cram
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I am a 46-year-old drug user. I have been addicted for more than 20 years. I know it’s wrong. I know I can be a better person. I got hooked when a supposed friend introduced me to crack in 1992. If I could only go back to that day, I’d kick the you-know-what out of him. I was all set to make something of my life. In 2010, my dad was diagnosed with lung cancer. It only got worse. I have hurt the people I care about the most. I have stolen from my mom. I have written checks on her bank account and pawned her jewelry. I don’t know what to do. I know I’m depressed since Dad died. I’m also disabled and on disability. I pretty much kept everything in check until 2001 when I lost the job I’d held for 17 years. I have drifted from job to job ever since. So there it is. I have developed COPD. I’m on oxygen full time and can’t work. I ask myself why I’m suddenly doing three and four times more than I’ve ever done. Do you think I’m that depressed? That I’m trying to speed my own death? I’m at a loss and need some…