I started using drugs when I was only ten years old in order to "cope" with my problems. I didn't really have a childhood and my life was full of heartache. This only continued to get worse the older I got. I continued to use all throughout junior high and high school. I attempted to stop many times during those years but was unable to keep away. By this point, I was using just to keep from getting sick. During my senior year in high school, my big "secret" had gotten out. I was no longer able to hide my messed up behavior. I used during school hours constantly. The night of my 18th birthday, my school resource officer and my high school guidance counselor kept me after school and took me to rehab. I did not want to go but it was better than jail. It was an acute treatment facility so I was only there for seven days. When I left, I went right back to the same home environment and was using again two days later. I lived with my father who was very abusive and I used that pain as an excuse to continue feeding my addictions. About two weeks after I was home from rehab, I'd had all I could take of the abuse, the pain, the guilt, the self-hatred. I just couldn't take it anymore. I was planning to commit suicide while everyone else was away from home that night. I had a solid plan and was ready to go through with it. Finally, when they all had left, I put the gun to my head with my finger on the trigger and was saying my "last prayer" as my father's girlfriend came back into the house. I hadn't expected her to return so soon. If she had been even one minute later, I would not be here today. She stopped me and took me to the sheriff's department (for protection from my father) and that night, I moved to my mother's with nothing more than a trashbag of clothes. I continued to use and went back to rehab for the second time in two months. I was sure that things would be different this time. My home environment was much better. But I was wrong once again. I stayed sober for a couple of months and relapsed three more times before I finally got my wake up call. During my last relapse, something went terribly wrong. My heart was pounding and I was in enormous amounts of pain. I was so scared. I didn't think I would live through the night. I finally passed out and to my surprise, woke up the next day. That was the day I decided to take my life back. I enrolled in college and got my act together. Now, I am 20 years old. I am clean and sober and I attend Paramedic School full-time and will soon be working as an EMT as well. Once I have my Paramedic License, I will also do Firefighter training and become a Fire Medic. I have learned that nothing in this life time can possily stop me from reaching my dreams so long as I am willing to keep fighting for my own life. I no longer look at my past as a curse but rather, a gift. Because of everything I went through, I am better able to help others both in my career and in my personal life. I have learned to turn my struggles into strength. I hope that anyone else who may read this will also learn to do the same. It's definitely not an easy thing to do, by any means, but I promise you, it is worth the fight.