Contact High
Today, Li, my Movement and dance teacher spoke about having an addictive personality and how she cannot hang with some of her old friends any more because of it, the in abilitty to say no, and that got me to thinking today about my addictive tendencies.
Does it suprise you when I say that, yup, I was a junkie, an addict because I was. The monkey on my back was a prescription medicine, one that was prescribed for asthma. My poison was an inhalant used to stop an attack. It was an adrenaline substitute to be used to open up the alveoli when they closed up. I kind of lost my ability to judge properly when to use it, in fact, I was using it all the time. The result was I was constantly high on an adrenaline rush. Well because of my high consumption rate our pharmacist notified my doctor who discussed it with my mother, (my father being deceased) and they decided to cut me off cold turkey.
Pardon my language journal, but OH MY FUCKING GOD! I did not know anything about withdrawal symptoms at the time and that was probably a good thing because at eleven that would have probably terrified me, it doesn’t make me all warm and fuzzy now come to think of it. I had them all, denial, delirium tremors, sobbing, begging, pleading, bargaining for just one hit, I couldn’t sleep though I was exhausted, and when I did the dt’s would be there…I thought that I was going to die, it was just as bad as people have described it if not worse.
But I survived, obviously, but it left a lasting impression, one that probably saved my ass from a world of hurt when I got older. You see I learned my lesson, but I did not get an A.
When I entered my late teens and early twenties I still experimented with drugs like a lot of other people my age in that era. When I finally decided to succumb to peer pressure I did so by promising myself that I would only do a little and then stop, and I stuck t those rules, mostly. I stuck to them because I could see how easy it would be to get hooked, drugs taken for pleasure, well they are fun, they hit your pleasure centers and mmmm. Hallucinogens are cool too, well mostly; I did have a semi-bad trip on some pot that was laced with phencyclidine - PCP, Angel Dust. I did not know that the grass was laced and well no need to go into full detail but I called my girl friend and she talked me through it for an hour or so until I came down enough. I can laugh about it now but then it was scary. I tried just about everything as long as it didn’t need a spike, no booting for this boy, I never rode the horse. I mentioned that I stuck to my rules mostly, alcohol, grass, and blow were used on a more frequent basis then anything else and that still was not every day but often enough. Grass was just ubiquitous it was there any time and booze well I had a hollow leg. At parties my brother and I would go to bed because we got tired of talking to one another as we were always the last two standing, we never did find out who could out drink who lol. Cocaine, now that was close. Simply put I love coke, I had a lot of fun, collected presidential portraits and then one day I realized that if I did not walk away then I probably l never would. So I just got up and walked because there was no way in Hell that I wanted to go through what I had gone through before again. Oh yeah, it was kind of fun to hang with ‘Cid also, but again I just said that was it and never touched it again.
The only drug I occasionally use still is alcohol, but my leg is no longer hollow. To be fair I haven’t drank much in along time, a six pack might last me two months at times, how things change. When I had brain surgery, the doctor told me that my tolerance for alcohol would change; he also told me not to have my first drink for at least six months. I think that I waited closer to a year and holy s _ _ _ half a beer and I was ready to lie down! I have a much higher tolerance now but I know that it is not what it was and you know what, I have no desire to find out what it is.
Does it suprise you when I say that, yup, I was a junkie, an addict because I was. The monkey on my back was a prescription medicine, one that was prescribed for asthma. My poison was an inhalant used to stop an attack. It was an adrenaline substitute to be used to open up the alveoli when they closed up. I kind of lost my ability to judge properly when to use it, in fact, I was using it all the time. The result was I was constantly high on an adrenaline rush. Well because of my high consumption rate our pharmacist notified my doctor who discussed it with my mother, (my father being deceased) and they decided to cut me off cold turkey.
Pardon my language journal, but OH MY FUCKING GOD! I did not know anything about withdrawal symptoms at the time and that was probably a good thing because at eleven that would have probably terrified me, it doesn’t make me all warm and fuzzy now come to think of it. I had them all, denial, delirium tremors, sobbing, begging, pleading, bargaining for just one hit, I couldn’t sleep though I was exhausted, and when I did the dt’s would be there…I thought that I was going to die, it was just as bad as people have described it if not worse.
But I survived, obviously, but it left a lasting impression, one that probably saved my ass from a world of hurt when I got older. You see I learned my lesson, but I did not get an A.
When I entered my late teens and early twenties I still experimented with drugs like a lot of other people my age in that era. When I finally decided to succumb to peer pressure I did so by promising myself that I would only do a little and then stop, and I stuck t those rules, mostly. I stuck to them because I could see how easy it would be to get hooked, drugs taken for pleasure, well they are fun, they hit your pleasure centers and mmmm. Hallucinogens are cool too, well mostly; I did have a semi-bad trip on some pot that was laced with phencyclidine - PCP, Angel Dust. I did not know that the grass was laced and well no need to go into full detail but I called my girl friend and she talked me through it for an hour or so until I came down enough. I can laugh about it now but then it was scary. I tried just about everything as long as it didn’t need a spike, no booting for this boy, I never rode the horse. I mentioned that I stuck to my rules mostly, alcohol, grass, and blow were used on a more frequent basis then anything else and that still was not every day but often enough. Grass was just ubiquitous it was there any time and booze well I had a hollow leg. At parties my brother and I would go to bed because we got tired of talking to one another as we were always the last two standing, we never did find out who could out drink who lol. Cocaine, now that was close. Simply put I love coke, I had a lot of fun, collected presidential portraits and then one day I realized that if I did not walk away then I probably l never would. So I just got up and walked because there was no way in Hell that I wanted to go through what I had gone through before again. Oh yeah, it was kind of fun to hang with ‘Cid also, but again I just said that was it and never touched it again.
The only drug I occasionally use still is alcohol, but my leg is no longer hollow. To be fair I haven’t drank much in along time, a six pack might last me two months at times, how things change. When I had brain surgery, the doctor told me that my tolerance for alcohol would change; he also told me not to have my first drink for at least six months. I think that I waited closer to a year and holy s _ _ _ half a beer and I was ready to lie down! I have a much higher tolerance now but I know that it is not what it was and you know what, I have no desire to find out what it is.