Post by Ann on Aug 3, 2004 12:46:04 GMT -5
Revelations of a Druggie
I've always been so proud of myself that I never 'did' drugs. During my teens, a lot of my arty drama friends tried acid and more, but I never did. I'd go to clubs with them and watch them swanning around in fits of intoxication and half-envy them the experience. But I never took anything.
Then one morning we staggered out of The Doors (our favourite spot) at about six-thirty in the morning. Our lift-man had parked his Ford across the road and in the night it had been broken into. Not only that, but the entire dashboard, driver's console and cubby had been ripped out of the front and lay hanging across the passenger seat - at least the steering column and wheel were still attached, but at a precarious angle. Everywhere there was shattered vinyl, plastic, glass and thousands of bucks' worth of damage stared us in the face. Suddenly a wail went up: 'The microdot!' one of my incredibly cool friends cried. There had been a tiny tab of acid in the cubby hole and this was what they were worried about - never mind the damage to the car. For the next hour they - including the driver - grovelled in the dirt and the f*g-ends and the glass for the microdot, which they never found.
To this day I picture them and get shivers. I spent ten-odd years congratulating myself for never having gone there, for holding out against peer pressure and all the rest of it, feeling superior to those friends of mine because I had never been such a mindless slave to a substance to the detriment and exclusion of all else.
This morning I woke up and realised that I had been one of them. Thing is, they escaped before they finished school - whereas I've been smoking for fourteen years. I have rushed around the flat, scrabbling frantically in pockets of long-unworn coats for a half-empty pack; borrowed matches from neighbours and felt I'd won the Holy Grail. I've ended relationships, walked out of excellent movies and plays, turned down jobs so that I could continue to feed my addiction in relative comfort.
I never realised that for all that time I had been as sick and pathetic as those acid-heads, scrounging on the ground in the cold pre-dawn light for something so insubstantial.
found on Quitnet
I've always been so proud of myself that I never 'did' drugs. During my teens, a lot of my arty drama friends tried acid and more, but I never did. I'd go to clubs with them and watch them swanning around in fits of intoxication and half-envy them the experience. But I never took anything.
Then one morning we staggered out of The Doors (our favourite spot) at about six-thirty in the morning. Our lift-man had parked his Ford across the road and in the night it had been broken into. Not only that, but the entire dashboard, driver's console and cubby had been ripped out of the front and lay hanging across the passenger seat - at least the steering column and wheel were still attached, but at a precarious angle. Everywhere there was shattered vinyl, plastic, glass and thousands of bucks' worth of damage stared us in the face. Suddenly a wail went up: 'The microdot!' one of my incredibly cool friends cried. There had been a tiny tab of acid in the cubby hole and this was what they were worried about - never mind the damage to the car. For the next hour they - including the driver - grovelled in the dirt and the f*g-ends and the glass for the microdot, which they never found.
To this day I picture them and get shivers. I spent ten-odd years congratulating myself for never having gone there, for holding out against peer pressure and all the rest of it, feeling superior to those friends of mine because I had never been such a mindless slave to a substance to the detriment and exclusion of all else.
This morning I woke up and realised that I had been one of them. Thing is, they escaped before they finished school - whereas I've been smoking for fourteen years. I have rushed around the flat, scrabbling frantically in pockets of long-unworn coats for a half-empty pack; borrowed matches from neighbours and felt I'd won the Holy Grail. I've ended relationships, walked out of excellent movies and plays, turned down jobs so that I could continue to feed my addiction in relative comfort.
I never realised that for all that time I had been as sick and pathetic as those acid-heads, scrounging on the ground in the cold pre-dawn light for something so insubstantial.
found on Quitnet
