300 days ago, I broke up with my drug dealer.

,
300 days ago, I broke up with my drug dealer.

300 days ago, I broke up with my drug dealer.

It wasn’t some shady guy in an alley — it was a plant in a shiny package.

Kratom. Mitragyna speciosa.

Marketed as “natural,” “safe,” even “healing.” I bought the lie. At first, it lifted my mood. Took the edge off the pain. Gave me energy.

Then, without realizing it, I was owned. My brain’s opioid receptors were chained to it.

I wasn’t just using kratom — kratom was using me.

The withdrawals were savage. Anxiety that felt like my skin was on fire. Sleepless nights. My body shaking. My mind screaming for just one more dose. It was no different from opioid withdrawal.

And yet… Facebook and Instagram still show me kratom ads. The industry still calls it “safe.” Still wraps addiction in a wellness label. Still tells desperate people like me it’s harmless.

It’s not harmless. It’s not “just a plant.”

It’s dependency dressed up as self-care.

If you’re using it now — or thinking about it — please, please know what you’re stepping into.

I’m grateful I got out before it took more from me.

Do you need help with addiction or other unwanted behaviors in your life? I’m here for you! Please reach out.


It was written with care and intention, grounded in my love, compassion, vulnerability, and gratitude.
It reflects my healing, my recovery, my acceptance, and my commitment to accountability and ownership, and to making amends through the way I choose to live my life today.

❤️


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