This story/script came to me in the early waking hours one Saturday morning (about two weeks ago). I felt God speaking this dialogue to me and as I have no experience or exposure to whom this person is/was or the life associated with someone caught in drug addiction.

Anthony said he could still feel the sensation of the heated fluid that he used to inject into his arms, after which he was taken to a place far from the nightmare that had become his waking life.

He said that people often think of getting high and how great it would be but they never talk about the emotional, mental and physical pain you feel when you "return" to your own human reality. Each time you come back it gets worse. The depression and the sensation as if every molocule of your body was screaming out in pain - where death looms near and yet will not take you, just yet.

I had no real reason to take to drugs. I had, what I thought, was a good home life. Loving parents (whom I tortured so much through all of this) and great friends - most friends in my pre-drug days have left me. I can't blame anyone for deserting me as I did some pretty bad stuff when I was high.

You know no-one tells you about the open sores you get on your body that won't heal and the hunger pains you get that seem to be over-lorded by your desire to get high. I don't think I ate much back then and whatever I did eat normally came straight back up.

I heard it said that the only cure for a drug addict, a person on the path of self-destruction like I was, is death. That death is the only answer - but they are wrong.

Jesus, not death, is the only answer.

I don't know at what time God reached down and touched me and started me back on the path to life; life here and to a life eternal. It may have been a simple word by a friend that I had long since forgotten or the desperate pleas from the street evangalists who kept telling me that Jesus loves me - no matter what I've done. I thank God that He is my judge - and not the cold hearts of some people.

One morning, as I lay in the gutter, my body filled with pain and torment I felt Him touch me. As if the tip of His mighty finger touched my soul. For the first time in years of never knowing where I would wake up and who I had stolen from the day before to keep my supply coming in, I had woken up with an inner-strength. I remember going home that morning to my parents house - all my mum could do when she saw me was cry - my family still loved me but I had pushed them so far away it would take a miracle for me to rebuild what I had destroyed between us.

But that day was different. I wanted to get out of an evil grip that was choking the life out of me. I know that Jesus came to me and although I had to endure days and nights of screaming in a cold sweat breaking free of my addiction, Jesus would be there as I walked through my own valley of the shadow of death.

To the young people of the world today I say, "Dare to be different!" Don't give in to the false image of "being cool" that makes you think others accept you. They will abandon you quicker than anyone will - the false friends who get you into drugs and booze. There's nothing cool about slowly killing off every part of your life that matters.

Dare to be different - just like Jesus did. He stood against those who opposed His Father and His Father's will simply by showing the love of God to others who needed it (everyone needs the love of God).

Anthony said, "Make a difference, be a difference in the world and be spared the dark journey that I made - most of my closest "drug buddies" are dead now - the journey kills people. But my Lord Jesus, He saves people."

Anthony said, "God Bless".