The below is the first part of Sarah’s story of how she became a heroin dealer in the old days. Today, she deeply regrets ever getting involved in any way. But an addict will do just about anything to feed their disease – and it takes a lot of money to do it. Sarah is now in long-term recovery and hasn’t been a heroin dealer for a long time. She now gives back as a member of this community by working to spread awareness and encourage men and women in recovery. Sharing her personal story, especially one of this magnitude takes a lot of courage, especially considering how many people despise drug and heroin dealers. So while this particular article may invoke some strong emotions, we ask that you remember that this was in the past and Sarah has made restitution for her heroin dealing days. Please be respectful in your comments.
How a Stay at Home Mom Became a Heroin Dealer
What you are about to read is not fiction. In fact, it is my account from my days as a heroin dealer. Now I am aware that this is a very controversial, touchy subject. I am honestly not proud of the title and job I used to have. Believe me, proud is nowhere near the word I would use to describe this chapter of my life. Regardless, it is part of my life story and I am not one to sugar coat nor shy away from the heinous things I’ve done. Brutal honesty has become a part of my addiction and recovery story.
I remember the day I dove feet first into a new “title” in life, the day I became a heroin dealer. My ex-boyfriend and I had discussed selling drugs a couple months prior as a way to subsidize and feed our heroin addiction habit. We had just moved into our new apartment and had the means to get the money together in order to make a payment on a package. I was originally okay with him handling all aspects of the business. I could be the ‘ol lady and take care of business on the home front while he took care of the business outside the house. In theory, it sounded perfect. It took almost two months for me to change my mind. That and dope whores…
Female Prostitution for Heroin
Now, when I say I remember the day, I don’t mean the exact date. What I do remember is the details, the moods, the weather, and even smells. It was early in the afternoon, mid-spring, on the south side of St. Louis City, Missouri. I had all the windows open in the apartment, allowing the breeze to keep the apartment comfortable. As I started the spaghetti sauce for dinner later that night, I was pissed off. About an hour before, my ex-boyfriend told me that he was cutting a customer off because she offered sexual services in exchange for one of his washes. I immediately headed towards the kitchen because, well, I cook when I am angry. People can gauge my level of anger based on the amount of food I cook. Regardless, people avoid the kitchen when I in there. Smart move on their behalf.
So for an hour, I prepped the sauce while I played mental volleyball with the information my ex-boyfriend had bestowed on me. Now I know that it is all part of the “game”, but I was still insulted. As I recount this memory, I’m not quite sure why I was so in my box about this. Seriously, he could’ve handled it so many different ways but took the honest route. I wasn’t mad at him. Hell, I wasn’t mad at her. A “dope whore” is a dope whore. I want to say that it was just the pure lioness in my heart that refuses to share. Period. That just isn’t who I am and I dare anyone to ever challenge me on this.
With every new lap my lioness paced in her mental pen, my pride swelled more and more, and my anger burned hotter and hotter. By the time I set the sauce on low to simmer a while, my anger was glowing white hot and the lioness was demanding retribution. So, I checked to see how the boys were getting along in the front part of our apartment before I demanded the attention of my ex-boyfriend. I knew this was going to be a battle but it was no longer feasible for me to sit at home while he ran the streets selling heroin. It was 2015 and I felt that I had every right to sell heroin too. Stupid right? Yeah, pretty horribly dumb says the me of today.
I leaned on the frame of our bedroom door and watched as my ex took inventory of our safe. When the decision was made to become a heroin dealer, I insisted on a safe. Furthermore, the safe was to hold the dope, all the money, the ledger, the scales, and the bags. Quick clean up was one of the main reasons for this set up. Safety was the other. Yes, that is an oxymoron, a safe drug dealer, but that Is why I have been called a dangerous mind. I am practical about any endeavor, legal or illegal, that I am affiliated with. No matter what, I always treat the situation as if it is normal. Common. So logically, all things to do with selling Heroin were required to be kept in a fashion that our kids couldn’t randomly come in contact with it.
Heroin Dealing Under the Guise of a Fake Tax Paying Business
My ex-boyfriend was counting money at the current moment. This meant that he already inventoried what we had left and was about to determine how much we needed to recomp in order to keep our heroin dealing endeavor going. The ledger was what I used to claim taxes at the end of the year. Yes, you read that correctly. Our illicit heroin dealer business paid taxes under the guise of a company I created. Hey, you have to have a front for the money you make. Neighbors can be nosey. Cops can come any time. If you have nice things in your home, you should have a comparable job (or credit) to achieve these things in order to avoid probable cause. So, the front was a successful front that allowed us to be tax paying business owners.
I was trying to wait til he finished counting, but he beat me to the punch. Not quite sure if he had been anticipating that moment or if the tension building while I waited forced him to ask what I wanted, it is what it is. Still, when he asked me what I needed without looking up at me, while he carried a sharp tone when asking, I had a split second to decide if I was going to go through with it. Yes I was, and yes I did.
I told him that if he wanted this drug dealing venture to continue, I was no longer going to sit by while he did it all. As soon as the last part of my ultimatum rolled out of my ex froze. He kept his focus on the money in his hands, but all movement ceased. The silence in the room was heavy, making the thick cloud of tension even more suffocating, but I was not backing down. I refused to back down. So I kept going while I was still perched on my soapbox, and while I had still rendered him speechless.
The next thought process to tumble out of my mouth was my brilliant plan of divide and conquer. I would handle the females and he would take care of the guys. Our customer base was still relatively small at the time. We only catered to roughly ten people and those ten people had been in our lives for quite sometime. So it was easy to keep tabs on them and we trusted the people they sent to us. The thing was that the word was getting out that we had some of the “best dope” in the city. We were walking sales pitches for our own product, and we were getting it for cheap. Just like anything else, word of mouth spreads across the heroin addict community and bam, more sales.
After I babbled for a couple minutes, I cut myself off to see if he would say anything. At this point, my ex still hadn’t budged nor shifted his attention. If I wasn’t able to see the rise and fall of his breath, I could’ve sworn he was a statue. Suddenly, my brain shifted to panic mode and I started to mentally prep for an argument. Fight or flight was always in my mind as well. Too many mood shifts had left me weary when dealing with my ex-boyfriend.
Halfway through my mental prep, he slowly looked up at me. The blank look on his face cause my breath to catch in my throat, but I was nowhere near prepared for the words he spoke to me at that exact moment.
“Fine. You want to get your hands dirty, then get them dirty. I will send you the bitches, but you are to NEVER service any of the men. Period.”
To Be Continued…
Written By, Sarah – Associate Publisher and Forum Co-Moderator For Kill the Heroin Epidemic Nationwide™
Edited and Published By, William – Publisher and Founder
We are a community for recovering heroin addicts providing support and recommending the best treatments and clinics to people interested in conquering their addiction.