It wasn't until I made searing contact that I realized it was actually a rosebush. I hit the ground, torn and bleeding but free. I didn't have time to feel pain or check my wounds, but I felt a large cut behind my ear and blood dripped from my pantleg cuff. Flesh wounds, I thought, trying to muster all my bad-assery. I crept around the house, reached under the steps for my shoes and when I grabbed them I began to run.
My drug use escalated into a full-blown addict lifestyle in less than a month. “I’m too far gone,” I would tell myself.