Chapter 7

Here is another excerpt from chapter 7 of my book:
My dad died on April 12, 1994. A couple of months later, I was at a party. I had been drinking and using drugs, and for lack of a better term, I had a nervous breakdown. I started crying and screaming uncontrollably.
My friend, Brandy was also at the party, so she drove me to the Crisis Center. After they had me stabilized, they transferred me to the psychiatric unit at St. Anthony hospital.
While I was there, I met a patient named Darrell. I wasn't the least bit attracted to him, but I became very fond of him. He had schizophrenia and was super quirky and interesting.
Before I was released, we exchanged phone numbers, so I could maintain a friendship with him.
One evening, after we both got out of the hospital, Darrell called me. He said he was hanging out at his apartment smoking pot with his friend Joe, and did I want to come over. I said yes.
Darrell's apartment was in an area  of Oklahoma City's that was laden with drugs and violence. Yet, I felt no trepidation whatsoever about going there. I got very stoned that night.
When we ran out of pot, we drove to Joe's brother's house. His name was Robby. He lived a couple of blocks away from Darrell in a seedy drug infested neighborhood.
As I walked through Robby's kitchen, I saw cockroaches everywhere. That night, I got as stoned as I had ever been. I also started dating Robby, if you can actually call it dating. We drank, did drugs, and had sex, while I intermittently had emotional breakdowns, which would lead to a few days on a psychiatric unit.
Robby introduced me to methamphetamine and crack cocaine. I liked meth but I  loved crack and soon became addicted.

Scripture verse:
"But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light" 1Peter 2:9.