Psychiatrists and narcologists subdivide narcotic substances into heavy and light ones. I have no idea what sort of classification they have in this regard, but in fact, it is not. Easy drugs does not exist. It is all, in all its diversity, absolutely all difficult, because it equally breaks the fate of people and prematurely takes their lives. Easy drug does not happen. There are light and heavy doznyaki. Some begin with weed, others prick themselves half. But without exception, over time, end up with heavy doses. It's like a quagmire. Tightens slowly but surely, and when an understanding comes to you that you have become a slave to a large dose, you will not be able to stop. When I was eighteen, I tried drugs out of pure curiosity.

And my girlfriend offered them to me, with whom I once met at one of the street parties. Then I did not know that she was sitting tight on a needle, and in her mood, she was blaming the swings on female immaturity. I was aware that when I agreed to try this stuff, I did it absolutely voluntarily. After all, no one forcefully forced. I threw Oksana for sex, and she offered to give a prick for the company before that. So to speak, for greater thrill. Like, do not worry, you'll like it. And once there will be nothing. And I liked it. So much so that I wanted to once again experience the thrill that I received at the first dose. I plunged into a pink paradise, Oksana’s face was concentrated and beautiful. Her flexible body trembled in my arms, and I penetrated her, feeling blissful. But the action of foolishness soon ended, and consciousness gradually returned to the dull real world. I didn’t have the physical breakdown that drug addicts experience during abstinence, and it was necessary to turn on the brains and slow down even then. But I wanted more. And then another, and another.

My hypertrophied self-esteem told me that I could easily engage with this harmful addiction at any moment, and pushed aside all the time when I told myself - stop! Oksana knew where to get the crap, all she needed was the money I had. After a couple of months, I firmly hooked on the needle, and during withdrawal, I was experiencing an unbearable break. I was thrown into heat and cold, tormented by insomnia, sticky nasty sweat running down my face, and my whole body was shaken with a shudder. I was not just depressed and depressed. I was gripped with panic fear, real horror with pincers squeezing my throat, it seemed to me that I was about to die, I would just die, and nothing could help me, except, of course, a dose. And I went to my mistress Oksana.

It was too late for me to realize that I had become a slave to heroin, and it would not be easy to get involved with drugs anymore. The point of no return has been passed. My non-poor parents began to notice changes in me, and stopped giving money. One day, my mother accidentally saw the marks of numerous injections in my hands.

- Son, what is it. You prick. I knew, I guessed.

- Yes, I am pricked. And now what. I'm tired of your obihazhivaniya and moralizing. That is impossible. It is impossible. It's good. Is that bad. I'm already an adult, and I manage my life myself.

- This is the brazen depraved girl seduced you. She dragged into bed, and planted on the needle. I do not know what I will do with it.

“Don't even touch her with your finger.”

- Why so?

- She is good.

- What are you talking about?

I never broke up with the good girl Oksana. To say that between us was love? Yes, there was no love. Rather, the satisfaction of carnal needs. We did not make plans for the future. Didn't want any kids. Our horizons narrowed down to a single desire - to get another dose. My father was always busy, but my mother saw me steadily slide into a bestial existence. I started to steal from friends and acquaintances, got into debt, began to take out of the house and sell household appliances for a pittance.Just to get the coveted bag. Moreover, I lied all the time, for which I needed money until the end. Mom finally complained to her father about all my arts, and he took drastic measures. I was tied up by four strong men, and taken to an expensive private clinic, where I spent two months. I was hard going out of the state of breaking up, after which I was treated with coding and hypnosis, they showed scary films about how drug addicts end their miserable, worthless life almost in the garbage. But it was all senseless. After being discharged from the clinic, on the third day I met my girlfriend, and with doubled zeal I began to prick. Then my father kicked me out of the house. I moved to the squalid one-room Oksankina hruschba on the outskirts of the city, and began to live with her. There was a catastrophic shortage of drugs, and one day Oksana said:

- There is no money for Gerych. We'll have to inject synthetics. Here, earned.

- How did you earn it?

- And then you do not know how. Served here two males in the car. Have you tried synthetics?

“Come on,” I agreed, aloofly.

- I have not tried it yet, but they say that the poison is still that. Nothing, others are sitting on it. And as the loot appears, let us return to Gerych.

We pricked. I immediately fell into a black gloomy well, and lost my memory. When I woke up, I found Oksana, who was lying beside me, lifeless. She died in a narcotic dream, probably from an overdose, and her body was already cold. I became really scared. I remember calling the police myself. An arriving investigator with an operative group went around the bed of my girlfriend's body lying on a dirty couch with spring protruding, and they wrote something, took pictures, asked me some questions. Then they took me to the department. At one of the interrogations I became ill. Another breakup covered me with a sizzling sizzling wave, and the investigator called an ambulance. I was taken to the hospital, where for two weeks I experienced all the horrors of physical abstinence.

By that time, Oksana's body was subjected to an autopsy and no crime was found on my part. Examination showed that my girlfriend died from an overdose, and they let me go. So I found myself on the street. Where to go - I did not know. To go home? There, from where they kicked me out, I was not allowed to be exorbitantly exaggerated pride. How to live now on? My only friend Oksana died, and I did not feel any guilt behind me. However, I began to miss her. I knew that if I settled somewhere, at least, as a guard, I would hardly earn myself heroin. Stoel is not cheap, but I was unbearably eager to inject. What to do? Steal? Rob pedestrians in doorways and doorways? Probably have. With such thoughts, I found myself in the courtyard of an Orthodox church. How? I do not know. Perhaps the legs themselves brought me to this place.

“What brought you to the temple of God,” the father asked me when I entered the spacious hall in the hope of profit from something.

- I dont know. I just go here, and I do not know what to do. And who are you.

- I am the head of this parish. I am called to help all those who suffer. You do not know what to do, you have no purpose in life?

- There is. Get another dose. I am an addict.

- Then you need to confess. You will immediately feel better at heart.

The Holy Father carefully listened to my story and thoughtfully said:

- You chose your own way and there is sin in your soul. To otmolit, do not need to ruin another life. Own life. Need to save many others. You can stay here, and I will put you in a shelter for drug addicts. Think it over. Come at any time. You are young and you are at a crossroads. To live a full life, or soon to end its existence in some brothel.

After the confession, I really felt better. I thought for a long time about the words of the abbot, and gradually began to come to the conclusion that life must be started from scratch. I returned home and my parents accepted me. I became very thin and leaned over, but they saw that I was not in pain. And then one day Natasha appeared in my life. The girl from the next high-rise building. I met her by chance when I was hanging around the street without a goal.She carried heavy bags, and then I helped her carry them. She did not know that I was a drug addict, and she trusted me. We began to meet, and one day I confessed my love to her. Traction to the drug remained, but my life was now filled with this girl. I told her everything about myself, about my adventures, according to Oksana, and she did not reject me. She understood me. Now I'm in my third year at the Polytechnic Institute, and Natasha and I have a little child. I have no time to think about drugs, although thoughts of dose sometimes visit me. Probably, they will now visit me all my life. Psychological dependence is not corroded by anything. Drugs can wait. And therefore - do not start! Do not try this poison, because it will kill you. And before that, turn into an animal. Do not believe that drug addicts will give you a drink, that it is not dangerous, and that you can always quit. Lies. Drugs will kill you, and kill you at a young age. They kill everyone.

ARHIMED