Though it pains me to admit due to my insecurities and high doubts of myself, I am a very smart and street savvy person.
I always knew when I really shouldn’t be around someone hanging out in our group. When they just didn’t feel right. I always knew when I shouldn’t be in a certain situation because the Gods know it wasn’t the smartest idea I ever had.
Like the time I actually got into a car with a man who had been drinking and was still drinking actively while he was driving me and my friend to where ever the hell we were going. All the while I’m sitting in the dark back seat thinking ‘man you are fucking stupid’
Or the several times I put various substances in my body and while high as a kite thinking ‘why am I with these people? what the fuck am I doing here anyways?!’
It’s that getting mixed up with the “experimenters” in my freshman year of high school that had me in these various idiotic situations. I guess it was also the fact that I myself am an experimenter at heart. I mean truthfully who didn’t do a little experimenting in high school?
It’s like Skyrim (watch out here comes the geekin again) When you pick up a plant in the game you are able to eat it to learn its properties. That’s basically what I was doing. Testing out how cocaine made me feel, or learning that if you rub it on your gums they go numb. Woohoo how fucking cool right? Numb gums! (seriously, this was entertainment at one point in my life *eye roll)
But there were definitely things I would NOT try. My friend got really into using ecstasy towards the end of our dwindling friendship. Boy did she change. She went hard. She was gone like the new moon in the night sky. We actually had an “intervention” for her about her usage of this particular substance.
But thinking deep down to the depths of my dark soul, I’d say a lot of my continued charades were due to a need to feel excepted and a part of something. Don’t we all need to feel wanted? And I certainly didn’t have an upbringing where I particularly felt wanted.
It eventually came to a point where I truly started to hear myself, deep down, when I thought. When I finally came to the point when I said “I need help”
It was a night like any other. The gang was hanging out at our local coffee joint. Everyone had ditched me because my mom called me yelling saying she was going to call the cops if I didn’t get home right now. Don’t get me wrong, I would have ditched me too.
I walked the 2 blocks to the transit and ran into the one friend that actually was a friend. I had big ol’ salty tears running down my face. I’m sure I had that gasping for air kind of ugly cry going on. I told her, “I don’t want to do this anymore” She supports me with a real hug.
I get on the bus to the other side of town. I decided to go to an ex’s house because for some unreal reason we actually stayed friendly after the break up. I sat there with him talking about how I needed help, how I didn’t want to do these things anymore. He was very supportive and understanding. We called my mom.
I remember it being very dark at this time. I see her bright headlights as she pulls up and I say my goodbyes.
I hopped in the car and told her “I need help, I want help, I need to go somewhere, I don’t want to do this anymore”
I don’t consider myself an alcoholic or an addict but I guess this was my rock bottom? I think better suited to who I am as a person this was just my turning point. The point in my life that I finally listened to my thoughts telling me these people weren’t my real friends. The thoughts telling me that this isn’t how it is supposed to be. The thoughts asking am I really having fun?
This was the beginning of me finally listening to me.