New Jersey. Photo: Ben Currie
Life in the beginning was great. I surfed every day, entered a few local contests, and I even started a surf team in high school, which would later make the local newspaper. Little did I know the surf team would be one of the last good things I would do for a long, long time. When I was a sophomore in high school, I did something that would dramatically change the course of my life forever.
When I was 16 years old, my best friend broke his ankle skateboarding, and the doctor prescribed him Oxycodone, a strong synthetic opiate painkiller given to patients with moderate to severe pain. I wasn’t in any pain. In fact, I didn’t know anything about them other than they made my friend feel great. Being the curious person that I was I asked if I could try one. The moment I swallowed that first pill was the moment my life began slipping down a deep, dark slope.
I went from taking a few pills on the weekends with friends to taking them every day to get high. The first time I was unable to get pills was the first time I realized just how hooked I was. The sick feeling I had in my body was unlike anything I had ever experienced. The physical pain and anxiety was utter hell. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. A friend of mine, who I initially began getting high with, informed me that the way he had dealt with this was by using heroin. He said that it would get me higher and it was only a fraction of the price of an Oxy. I immediately began using heroin on a daily basis to substitute the pills. But in my mind, I didn’t have a problem. After all, I wasn’t stealing or sticking a needle in my arm. But the truth is, I was very much a junkie.
For the next seven years I began mirroring the same behavior that I grew up to fear. It destroyed me. It sucked away my soul, and any bit of innocence I still had was gone. I did things I could’ve never imagined. I stopped surfing completely by the time I was 20. I stopped caring about everything and anyone. Drug abuse took away my friends, my family, and my freedom. It took away everything I had ever loved and cared about. It took me away from myself. The only thing it didn’t take away from me was my life. And to be honest, there were times I wished it had.
No matter how many times I tried or how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop using. It wasn’t so much the physical withdrawal that had a hold on me, it was the mental side that I couldn’t shake. I knew that I needed every ounce of strength inside me to change back into the person I once knew and was capable of being again. I desperately needed help.
Four years ago, I decided I would no longer be a slave to drugs. Aside from the love and support I received, so much of my motivation to get clean had to do with surfing. It gave me a clean, honest, and healthy high that no drug could ever provide. It gave me peace and happiness—the real kind. The fact that I have something like surfing in my life to keep me sane and grounded is truly a blessing, and I thank God for each and every day I am alive.
I wanted to share my story in hopes to help those who can relate to the deep, dark abyss that is drug addiction. No matter how dark of a place you may be in, know there is still hope out there. Even if the odds seem like they are stacked against you, find the strength to ask for help. Trust me, it’s out there. I am walking proof that anything in life is possible.
