This is a true story that happened a few years ago. It's kind of embarrassing, but I told somebody I would post it, so here goes.....
I was a Christian for about three days. I had been up for close to a week, shooting speedballs and smoking freebase, when I had to go to this guy's house to pay him for some body work he had done on a classic car I was restoring. I didn't know it beforehand, but the guy turned out to be an evangelical christian. I was pretty whacked from cocaine psychosis and lack of sleep, and ended up praying with him and accepting Jesus into my life.
After that, I would pray before shooting up smack, asking god to bless my needle and spoon, and say stuff like "Praise Jesus" or "Amen! Halleluia!" while I was enjoying the rush. I would read the pocket-size bible the guy gave me while I was waiting to score more dope. I blessed my freebase pipe, too.
A couple of days of this, and I finally got some sleep. I woke up, fixed, and felt kind of ridiculous about the whole thing---after all, shooting smack with Jesus wasn't any better than shooting smack without him. In fact, it was worse. Not from guilt or anything, but all that damn praying wasted valuable time that could have been spent indulging in the Golden Dream of The Heroin Dragon. Plus, I felt like I was selling out my old buddy Satan, who was actually pretty cool to party with.....
I look back at this as one of those psychotic, drug-induced episodes that I have put behind me, like going out into the field behind my house at 4AM and shooting my mini-14 or my SKS at stuff that wasn't there the next day went I went to look at it. I'm still kind of embarrassed by it, most of my friends have no idea about it, and I just write it off as a really fucked up cocaine binge. Glad that shit's over with.