No one will read this. But hell, doesn't really matter anyways.

I ruined every chance of success after graduating high school. I went to a state college (because I wanted the full college experience) against the wishes of my father. I was offered a full scholarship at DeVry for game design that I took for granted at the time. I wanted to become an animator to work on motion pictures or video games. My dad went there and was able to forge a better life for us (this was after my parents divorce) after getting his degree; but I remember scoffing when I received the news. "DeVry? But that's only 30 minutes from home.. You're saying I would still live at home and drive to college? Uhh, I dunno..."

So I went to a state college and did well my first year. Growing up my father did his best to keep my life under control after a bitter divorce. I never went to parties, tried drugs, had sex, or any of that when I was underage. I was a good kid with good morals, but something was obviously broken inside me. I just didn't realize it at the time. I was young, naive. The whole world ahead of me. I can still feel the excitement of my first day at college when I think back.

Then came my second year. I moved out from the dorms into apartment-style housing that belonged to the university. This is when I branched off from the friends I had made my first year and was introduced to marijuana and alcohol. At this point, I started partying. I started hooking up with random girls. I became a daily user of booze and weed. Life was amazing, I was having an incredible time. I looked forward to weekends, and I started getting antsy while in class, the anticipation of going to my buddy's apartment to blaze up too much to contain. How did I live this long without weed? How did I bear living this life sober?

Soon, my grades fell. I stopped going to class here and there, making excuses along the way. It worked for a while - I was still maintaining a decent GPA, but it was a constant decline. I remember when a couple of days before Christmas I went online to check my grades. I had D's. Even a couple F's. I had never gotten below an A or B before in my life. It was scary.

But I didn't change my ways. "I'll figure it out, things always work out in the end, right? Heh." What a fucking idiot I was. The decline grew worse, and soon I stopped going to class altogether. My mother was giving me about $300 a month for living expenses as long as I promised I would try harder. You can probably guess what I did with the money. After a couple more months, I was exhausted. I wasn't partying much anymore, at least not like before. Now it was just me and my stoner buddies crowding around a TV, passing a bowl around, sipping on some Steel Reserve because we were broke.

Another year of this passed, and I eventually came to the point where I told myself I couldn't do this anymore. My return to reality, it might seem. And it was, for a time. I went home and worked random jobs to start to pay off the $40K debt that was now under my belt. 3 years of college and nothing to show for it. I guess I really got the experience I wanted.

Fast forward a couple of years and I decide to enlist in the Navy. I was still smoking weed on and off and eventually stopped because they would screen me before I was shipped off to basic training. I remember the fear I had when they put the stick inside of my test cup. Would I pass? Would I fail, and never be able to join again? Would I go to jail?

I passed. And the next year was possibly the most progressive, best time of my life. I worked hard. I got into shape. I had confidence, I was active, the world held opportunities and possibilities for me again. I was going to BE somebody. I enlisted as a Nuke - specifically, an ET (Electronics Technician). I apparently scored very well on the aptitude test they give you. I qualified for a $20K sign-on bonus in my contract as long as I completed my training. I was on the moon. Things were falling back into place.

If you don't know about the Navy Nukes, let me tell you that it was the hardest thing I have ever experienced in my life. The pipeline of learning consists of an 18-month period (A school, then off to Power school). It takes an incredible amount of intelligence, discipline, and willpower to make it through. I was working with some of the smartest young minds in the country. I wasn't up to par on their mental standards. I'm smart, but no genius. A lot of us didn't make it. Some dropped out in A school, some made it to Power school but couldn't keep up. 18 months to teach you how to operate a nuclear reactor on a aircraft carrier or submarine. The amount of material we had to learn eventually became too much.

Being so close to Charleston, there were ample times to party. But I did so in moderation. I was in uniform for most of the time I was out there, so I couldn't act a fool. I had respect for the uniform, for my country. I missed weed every single day. And that's when "spice" emerged.

We were told it was illegal to use in the military. We knew not to touch it. But I met some new people who had found some and wanted me to try it on a night after I had a couple of drinks in me. "They can't test you for this stuff man, it comes clean on piss tests. Just try it once, even if they could find it it'll be gone after a week or two." So I tried it.

Thus begins the truly dark section of my tale. Spice fucked my mind. It was so much stronger than the mids I was used to. It started off just smoking with friends at the park on a weekend, but when I discovered a small head shop 3 miles from the base that carried multiple varieties, I was hooked.

But, I stopped. I noticed myself falling back into the same patterns - smoking before doing anything, I had to be high to enjoy life. So I quit, tossed out the bags I had, blunt wraps, everything. I wasn't going to fuck this opportunity up. I was going to be somebody.

My "friend" didn't stop - he kept smoking with his circle of friends. Bath salts, spice, all the "legal" shit that they produced back then. I didn't hang out with these guys anymore. They resented me for that. And that's when one of them got caught. A guy I never really hung out with.

One day I'm sitting and getting lectured on heat transfer and fluid flow from a 20-something O-3 when my chief comes in the room and motions me over. All of a sudden I'm in handcuffs being escorted to the MAA's office and subsequently being interrogated by an NCIS worker.

The friend of my "friend" had buckled under the pressure and named each and every person he knew to have tried any legal drug that was prohibited by the Navy. I hadn't been smoking in months at this point. I wanted to tell the truth. I was a good kid growing up, with good morals. When the lady told me that if I cooperated they would help me out, I believed her. There was a zero-tolerance policy. If you got caught, you went to mast. And then you got kicked out. I was terrified. So I agreed that I had tried spice months past, but I didn't say with whom. They told me that they had the names of everyone who did it, and that I should come clean with the names. I'm no snitch. If you've got the names, you've got the names I replied. I smoked alone.

I remember my shame when I was told I would go to Captain's Mast. I was ashamed when I was told I would be other-than-honorably discharged, with no criminal charges. I was ashamed when I walked past my friends in handcuffs, their eyes wide with surprise and fear. I couldn't meet those eyes. I don't talk to them anymore.

I was processed out over a period of a couple of months. The phone call I left my father was the lowest moment of my life. "I'm getting kicked out dad. I fucked up. I'm sorry."

I'm getting emotional at this point, so I'll wrap this up. I struggle with my demons every day. I can't talk about my military career. I have to lie. I still struggle with weed and alcohol addiction. I drank so much after I got out that I developed constant heartburn. I have only been sober off of weed for 2 days (a personal choice, which may be the reason for all this emotional bullshit). I can't progress in my relationship because I am still crippled from my failures. I can't truly love my girlfriend because I hate myself so much inside. You wouldn't think it, looking at me. All carefree and smiles. Always open to help you out. But who can help me? Who can stop this cycle? I have so much more to write, but no one to listen. I'm stuck feeling this way. And at this point I don't know why I am writing. Why am I writing? I don't want to die. I simply want to vanish. I don't want to do this anymore. I just want to go away. Please.