I was nineteen years old when I met the demon for the first time.
The cunning and baffling of its character defects captivated me, and held me hostage for years. I became an addict whose life spiraled outta control! It was a monster, cleverly camouflaged in a puff of smoke I called, “the devil’s love potion.”
Trapped in a world of crushed dreams, false hope, and unmanageability, I was weakened and defeated by the intrusion of my new best friend. Blinded by the realities of my addition, I hit bottom over and over again.
I had gone completely insane, and at the brink of suicide, when a final cry to God brought me back from hell.