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Introspection Thursday. January 15, 2009

Posted by Julie Momster in Uncategorized.
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Sub-Titled: Why I Say “No” To Drugs… (Now)

You see, I did not used to say “no” to drugs. It used to more of a “Please, Sir, may I have another?” kind of scenario. Not just another, but many, many others. Often. And frequently.

I even went through different stages.

When I was in high school, I drank. Not your usual few-beers-at-an-older-group’s-keg, but more like a 20-oz.-bottle-of-straight-vodka-in-the-lunch-room deal. Needless to say, vodka is a liquor I don’t really touch anymore – although booze in general was the easiest thing I’ve ever had to cut down on.

When I was about 19, I was living in Detroit at my brother’s. I dated this guy who got me into my worst vice: cocaine. But ohhhhh how I loved it. I also developed an uncanny tolerance for it from the get-go. It took so much to get me high. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that was probably due to the fact that the coke in Detroit was less than desirable quality. Then I moved to Denver, and all hell broke loose.

Denver, apparently, gets higher quality everything. The worst stuff I got there was better than the best I got in Michigan. And my appetite for it was just as bad, if not worse. I developed a habit for an average of 6 grams a day. Every day. For a year. I dropped from a size 13 to a 3 in 6 months.

Then my dad came out to visit. I saw him the day he came in, then went home for the night. Where I proceeded to binge until 9:30 in the morning. And he was coming to pick me up at 11. I had been standing in place for 3 hours at one point, could not bend my knees, and was tweaking so bad from it that my neck was twitching.

And he knew.

And he didn’t get mad. He told me he was worried, and he didn’t want me to die. But that I had to make my own choices. I quit cold turkey. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and to this day I have yet to fully recover from the massive anxiety attacks that quitting brought on.

Trainwreck is not the right word, but it’s the most appropriate.

So I was clean. For a while.

Then it was pills. Oxycontin, Dilaudid, Methadone, Morphine. And I booted it right into my veins for at least 6 months. Somehow, this was  easier to quit. I moved with one of my friends down to Florida, where I had no connections, and there was no way to do it. I still crave the rush, but I know that if I go back, I’ll never stop.

The only reason I can admit to my mistakes, is that I’ve learned from them. The only reason I admit them to other people is in hopes that they can learn from them. I ruined a good chunk of my life because I wanted to “party” – I was having “fun”.

And you know what? Looking back on it? I can’t remember the “fun”. So what was it worth?

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