After I started working in the club again, I really took a nosedive. I thought I had already reached my low point, but man, I was wrong. The whole time I was there, I had been pretty good about not getting involved in any hard drugs. Yeah, I took pills every now and then, and drank a lot, but nothing too hardcore. I remember being in the bathroom, and girls would come in while I was in there, and pull out bags of coke. They would always ask if I wanted a "bump", and I would always say "No, no, I'm ok." They would shrug, snort their poison and leave. My friend Diamond, who no longer worked there, HATED cocaine. It ripped her family apart, and that alone was motivation enough for me to not ever do it.... as long as she was there. But after she left, my resolve weakened, and one day, when someone offered it to me, I snorted my first bit of cocaine in over 2 years. And that was all it took. I was hooked. I loved the way it made me feel at first. I always loved being high, and this was a different kind of high... I was energetic and engaging when I was on coke and I felt invincible. But as with any drug, I started needing more and more of it to get that same feeling.
I found coke buddies. These were the girls that I knew did coke; the ones who offered it to me in the first place. If I didn't have any, I could approach these girls and see if they had any, or if they wanted to go in half on a baggie with me. We would share our drugs, and as crazy as it might seem, I developed really strong friendships because of it. But when you are caught up in something destructive, you don't see how it really affects you like other people see it. I didn't see the weight I was losing, but everyone else did. I didn't see how pathetic I looked if I had to work one night without the coke, but everyone else did. It got to the point where people felt sorry for me, but I didn't realize how dependent I had become. It was a really horrible thing... I would desperately want to be high, and then once I got high, I would desperately want to be sober again. I hated it, but I couldn't stand to be without it. Every night I would tell myself I wasn't going to buy any.... and then, without fail, I would get drunk, and I would justify buying coke by telling myself that I just bought it to help "sober me up".
All this time, I was still dating Chris. He never knew about my coke habit until after we broke up. Looking back, I don't understand how he didn't see it, but that just goes to show how much attention he actually paid me. I would go home after doing coke all night, and my stomach would be so empty that it would make these awful sounds... like my insides were hollow. I would smoke a blunt before getting into bed so that I would actually have a shot at sleeping, and when I finally felt like I might be able to sleep, I would curl up around a pillow so that my empty stomach sounds wouldn't wake him up.
If I couldn't get coke at the club, I knew girls who snorted Ice, which is crystal meth, and I would do that instead. I absolutely hated meth though. It burned, and I only did that as a last resort.
So, as my coke habit got worse and worse, I was spending more and more money on it. So much, in fact, that I was having a problem paying my bills. I was broke all the time, but the only thing that seemed important to me anymore was getting high, and I was buying my drugs before I took care of my house fees and tip outs, so I ended up in debt to the club.
I'm not proud of what I started to do next. But when drugs are all that matter, you'll do whatever it takes to get them. The owner of the club I worked at had built a room in the back where he could do his drugs and have sex with the strippers. Everyone who worked there knew what was going on when girls went back there, and we judged those girls. They were "hoes" and we would make fun of them and talk crap about them. I'm not proud of it, but I took my turn back there as well. I got to the point where I spent all my money on drugs, and couldn't face going home to Chris and telling him that I didn't make any money, so one day the opportunity presented itself, and I went to the back office. Afterwards, I was so ashamed, I never wanted to go back to the club, but thankfully, the owner was always so messed up, he didn't even remember who I was the next time he saw me. I didn't have sex with him, but I did do other things. I was desperate, and after that, I could hardly look at myself in the mirror. I always said that I would NEVER, EVER let myself get to the point that I was willing to sell myself, but I did.
My shame led to more and more alcohol and drugs, and the more messed up I got, the more I needed money, and sadly, the cycle continued, and I continued to sell sexual favors in order to pay for my habit. I was on a path that led to death and destruction, and I didn't know how to stop it. I didn't even know how I got there.
Chris never knew about the prostitution. He would have been disgusted and left me, I'm sure. But even at this point, when I hated him because I blamed him for my habit and what I was doing to support it, I was afraid of being lonely, and so I stayed with him. But he wasn't meeting my needs anymore, and so, for affection, I turned to a man who seemed to care about me, even knowing about the coke habit and how messed up I was. That man was my good friend Derik. I found myself starting to seek him out more and more at work, and wearing outfits that I thought he might like, just so I could hear him tell me how good I looked that day. It was sad, but I was looking for ANY validation that I was more than just a washed up coke whore.
That's good you turned your life around you are very pretty good job !!
ReplyDeleteI used to work at a strip club as a security staff, and its 100% true, there are girls that dont do cocaine, but after certain time they fall to it because the burnout effect of working long night shifts in the first year of stripping, they look very energetic and the effect they get is way more powerful than a can of redbull but it destroy their life slowly.
ReplyDeleteI feel for you, Crystal. I was once a close friend of a girl who I knew to have a previous cocaine problem from her younger days. Little did I know that cocaine, along with other drugs, were still very prevalent in her life and I was bliind not to see it until it was literally in front of me. Now, at 34 years old, she has burned bridges with numerous people who have tried to lend a hand, been kicked out of 4 residences over the course of one year and can't keep a steady job. In her desperation, she has gone back to stripping, which she has not done for a long time. I fear for her every day because I know this is just another part of the long downward spiral she's been on since I've known her. But I realize there isn't a thing I can do about it, much as I've tried. She needs to make the decision, like you, to see the light and turn her life around. I guess what I'm saying is that I know what it's like to be that bystander, wanting that loved one to get the help they desperately need and become well. I am very much heartened to hear your story, because as terrible a time as that was for you, you are living proof that turning things around can be done. I wish that for her as well. Much love and continued healing to you.
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