Agony From Ecstasy

I hear a lot of people talking about Ecstasy, calling it a fun, harmless drug. All I can think is, "if they only knew."

I grew up in a small, rural town in Pennsylvania. It's one of those places where everyone knows your name, what you did, what you ate and so on. They certainly knew me - I was a straight-A student involved in many school activities. I was one of the popular kids, liked by all the different crowds, involved in homecoming, regularly cast in school theater productions. Drugs never played a part in my life. They were never a question - I was too involved and focused on other things.

I always dreamed of moving to New York City to study acting and pursue a career in theater. My dream came true when my mom brought me to the city to attend acting school. As you can imagine, it was quite a change from home.

I was exposed to new people, new ideas and a completely new way of life - a way of life that exposed me to drugs. Most of the people that I met and spent time with in acting school had already been doing drugs for years. I guess I felt that by using drugs, I would become a part of their world and it would deepen my friendships with them to new levels. I tried pot, even a little cocaine, but it was Ecstasy that changed my life forever.

I remember the feeling I had the first time I did Ecstasy: complete and utter bliss. I could feel the pulse of the universe; I let every breath, touch and molecule move my soul. It was as if I had unlocked some sort of secret world; it was as if I'd found heaven. And I have to admit, I wondered how anything that made you feel so good could possibly be bad.

At first, going to school and holding down two jobs to stay afloat left little time for partying, but as time went by things changed. I graduated, had a steady job, made more new friends - and began to use drugs, especially Ecstasy, more frequently. As I did, I actually started to look down on those who did not. I surrounded myself only with those who did. Looking back on my old friends, I see how we were all so similar, not just in our drug use but in a deeper sense. We were all broken in someone way, feeling sad, hurt and alone. Whether it was from a difficult childhood, a broken heart, or feelings of insecurity. We were a crowd of lost souls wanting so badly to be a part of something. I had gone from a girl who never used drugs to a woman who couldn't imagine life without them.

Fortunately - at least as I saw it - all my friends did Ecstasy, and since my boyfriend sold it, I rarely paid for anything. My weekends were spent popping pills and dancing at one of the many clubs in New York City - but it didn't really matter where I was. Clubs, bars, apartments - anywhere, anytime became a good place and a good time to use. My weekends began on Thursday and ran until Sunday.

I had come to New York dreaming of a career in the theater. Drugs didn't rob me of that dream, but they did make me willing to forget about it. It wasn't that I stopped getting parts because I was using; I just stopped auditioning. Sometimes I stopped eating and sleeping. I worked only two days a week to support my habit. The rest of the time was spent getting high, almost always on Ecstasy. The utter bliss of my first Ecstasy experience was a distant memory. Of course, I never could recapture that first high, no matter how much Ecstasy I took.

In five months, I went from living somewhat responsibly while pursuing my dream to a person who didn't care about a thing - and the higher I got, the deeper I sank into a dark, lonely place. When I did sleep, I had nightmares and the shakes. I had pasty skin, a throbbing head and the beginnings of paranoia, but I ignored it all, thinking it was normal. Until the night I thought I was dying.

On this night, I was sitting on the couch with my boyfriend and roommates, watching a movie and feeling normal when suddenly, I felt as if I needed to jump out of my skin. Racing thoughts, horrible images and hallucinations crept through my mind. I thought I was seeing the devil, and I repeatedly asked my friends if I was dead. I was pacing frantically back and forth, incapable of relaxing or understanding anything that was going on around me. On top of all this, I felt as if I was having a heart attack. The worst thing was those moments when I could see myself, and what I had become. Somehow, I managed to pick up the phone and call my mom in the middle of the night, telling her to come get me. She did, pulling me out of my apartment at the next morning.

I didn't know who I was or where I was as my mom drove me back to my family's hospital in Pennsylvania. I spent most of the drive curled up in the back seat while my younger sister tried to keep me calm. I think she and my mom were afraid I'd jump out of the moving car at any moment - and given my state of mind at the time, I can't say I blame them. When we finally got to the hospital, I was committed to the psychiatric ward. I spent the next 14 days there in a state of extreme confusion. This is what Ecstasy gave me - but it didn't stop there.

While I was in the hospital, my doctors performed something called a neuro-spec scan of my brain. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw the results.

The scan showed several dark splotches on the image of my brain, and my doctors told me those were areas - areas that carry out memory functions -- where the activity of my brain had been changed in some way. Because I used other drugs, the doctors could not say that my heavy Ecstasy abuse was solely responsible for this. But this much I know for sure: There's nothing in my medical history that could have contributed to this.

Since I saw that scan my life has been an uphill crawl, filled with doctors, therapists, meetings and a lot of soul searching. I have been placed on several medications such as anti-depressants, anti-psychotics and mood stabilizers, all to help me live with the chemical imbalance caused by my drug abuse. Looking back, it all happened so fast. Worst of all, I know I did this to myself.

I hear people say Ecstasy is a harmless, happy drug. There's nothing happy about the way that "harmless" drug chipped away at my life. Ecstasy took my strength, my motivation, my dreams, my friends, my apartment, my money and most of all, my sanity. I worry about my future and my health every day. I have many mountains ahead of me, but I plan to keep climbing because I'm one of the lucky ones.

I've been given a second chance, and that's not something that everyone gets.

Reprinted from Drug Free America with permission -- click here to visit the Drug Free America web site and take advantage of other great resources like this one.