A composite story illustrating how drug club rehab can be priceless

The first party I attended, and it was a great experience. It was great to meet so many girls who were willing and able to talk with me, as well as dance. Fantastic. Check out who’s new. Learn who has changed. Find out who’s new. Dreams are not impossible! Fun/exciting! It’s still a great world, even though I have a GPA of 1.60 instead of 3.30. A six-month period ago I felt insecure and extra resources, and my experience was lacking. Now I am more confident.

Now that I’ve finished school, it is time to find a job. Finally, I have a place to live. My freedom is great. It’s great to have my freedom back. They are trying to lure young, naive girls into cars to drive them somewhere unknown. It’s easy to find people that sell junk and it makes me feel like I am owing others. How can I stop them? There is a connection between them and the cartel, mob or club. What can I do? What should I do? Even the predators are like me.

It can be hard to pay for the clubs when I am paying my own bills. Some times, the money I make from selling enough is sufficient to pay my bills. I was most scared when the flashing blue lights appeared in my rearview. My life was forever changed by that single incident (DUI, Driving under the Influence). Losing my driving licence made it more difficult for me to commute to and from the office. My friends or taxis are my only options to go to the club.

If you don’t have a vehicle of your own, it is harder to find a girl to take you home. The cabbie may find it a little embarrassing that the woman is just going home to sleep. It’s only then that I think of how the driver may react when she tells him she does not know me or my home address. She may ask: “Why are you here?” The taxi driver. Please help me. What I think I have done is to highlight what I’ve become, a woman who abuses drugs. When I look back on my past, it is clear that the drug club lifestyle caused me to do a lot of selfish, stupid, cruel and embarassing things.

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