Spencer Reid Drug Addiction Novels & Stories

He apologized the next day but had more drinks that night. Spencer did not want to admit he was using alcohol as an excuse to do things he would not dare sober. Perhaps it was a man's baser instincts, but his initial guilt gave way to indulgence. He even found pleasure in ways he had never imagined before. Even when Ariana resisted, he felt an intense satisfaction. However, Spencer's guilt multiplied as Ariana's mental state deteriorated afterward. But his craving for her body was addictive. He could not control his urges to be close to her.

He looked at his watch and took out meds and took some. "Thought you were healthy",I looked at him. "I am but I'm on antibiotics for a week",I nodded still not believing him. He sighed as he sat and dad looked torn as he left. "Spencer why?",I just hated his reason for not telling us. "Every time I picked up the phone I hung up I couldn't drag you down man. I fought alone and vowed once I beat it I would come here and tell. I beat it so I'm here speaking up. Now about your rogues I will have my men come in and help wipe them out",I sighed.

He looked uneasy while gulping down his nervousness. “I turned to drinking and at one point it got to being offered drugs like cocaine and heroin. I hated myself for everything I did to you. I accused you of something that you didn’t do and then gave the command to be killed. I wanted to forget everything. I rejected any sort of help that people offered, whether it was rehab or just small talk. Three months later, I was addicted to this shit until Angela made me realise how wrong this was,” he took a breath.

And when I say everyone, I mean even my family. One of the things I would share with anybody is my past drug abuse, I was once addicted drugs due to my PTSD but hopefully I was able to fight that off myself without the help any therapist or so. That was one of my biggest secrets, the secret I would never want to share anyone.

"Well, her name was Stacy. She was um...she was amazing. She humbled me. See I used to have this big drinking problem when I was in my early twenties. I'm four years sober now though. I drink sometimes but in moderation. Anyway, she worked for the charity my father sponsored and I was just...madly in love with her." He played with the edges of the photo before speaking again "We started going out in secret, since the press would blow up if they found out. I used to go over to her small apartment all the time and on some occasions she would hang out over here. She would always get me to do charity work since she was just in love with it but all I cared about was...partying and drinking so I n

“I know what he is going through. I don’t have anything to tell him. Why don’t you try?” “He won’t listen to me.” “He had never listened to anyone and that’s why nobody wants to stop him even if we all can see he is calling his death.” “He used to smoke and drink but the addiction has increased after your sister’s death.” “Even Samira couldn’t change him.” Rudra Reddy glared at Ryan Jenkins. “Even nature can’t change him. So, don’t even think about it.” Yohan Dixon gulped the brandy and walked to the trolley beside the couch.

Reid and I used to drink this kind of tea during our early adolescence, so I always have it inside my refrigerator. I sat back on the bed waiting for him to be relaxed. After some time, Reid cleared his throat and began to speak. "We treat them like our own family. We share with them what we have but all they could repay is betrayal", Reid's voice quavered. He was referring to Uncle Sam and Charles whom he thought he could be trusted in META. I know it was hard on his part because he was the one who asked Dad to give them a higher position in the agency and yet those two, looted a big amount of money for their own interest. Aside from that, Uncle Sam was responsible for the Thiopental Sodium

Ernest never came back from that. He drank on that same yacht, staring at the lake like it could bring her back. Two years ago he finally joined her. We buried him in his ’98 Cubs jersey. Spencer punched a mirror at the wake and bled all over the marble floor. Josh didn’t speak for a week. Elliott read a poem that made grown men cry. Andrew paid for everything and disappeared with three models for a week. That night carved something permanent into all of us. Spencer got worse: more women, more drugs, more lies.

A small plastic bag, white powder visible inside. He'd started using cocaine three weeks ago. Just to stay sharp, he'd told himself. Just to keep the edge he needed to outthink Reed, to plan the next move. But the doses had gotten larger, the intervals between them shorter, and now he wasn't sure if he was planning or just spiraling. He tapped out a line on the glass desktop and snorted it. Reed thought he'd won. Thought he was safe now that his mate had recovered, now that they had their precious daughter.

Spencer strolled to the edge of the bed where Ariel’s leg was and he took her right leg in his palm, massaging the child’s soft bones gently. “The doctor advised that we do this,” he explained. “Are you okay, Bree?” She nodded. “Are…are you okay?” “I guess I am.” “You guess?” “I think I’m going crazy, you know.” Her eyes widened and she looked him over to find any trace of mental illness. “Crazy? How? Right, why were you drinking previously? Were you planning to Kill yourself with alcohol?” She finally got the chance to address the scene that she met with when she got into Spencer's mansion a while ago. Not only were there bottles around the room, it was messy as fuck too, like he was trying