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« on: June 26, 2009, 11:16:08 AM »
I was just going to reopen an old topic to start where I had left off, but I think it would be better to start off fresh. Kind of like a new beginning (I think...). I guess I'll start off and tell you where I've been, atleast I'm pretty sure thats how you start a conversation with someone you haven't talked to in a while. It seems like the past year has all been a dream (you could also say nightmare), the places I've been, the people I've seen, the things I did. I always ask myself from time to time if I regret any of it, and I can never seem to answer that question without the sound of scepticism in my voice. I guess I would say no, I would say no because what doesn't kill you makes you stronger right? Or so I've heard. And lord knows I was walking a road that led straight to certain death.
Lets see where I left off at. Last summer was the craziest summer of my life. I can't tell if it seems like a dream because it really was so surreal, or if because I am remembering it through the haze of Jose Cuervo and LSD that it was. I left off last telling you how confused I was about my relationship with this girl, I never really made amends with this girl. She said to me, at the bar, in her fake plastic voice "I'm sorry I led you on." and I, unable to voice my true emotions and stand up look her in the eyes and say sourly "No, what you did was wrong. People don't do that to other people..." I sat there smiled and shrugged and said "Hey...no problem." We never really talked after that, though we saw each other from time to time. She went off to college, so I stayed and rot for a little under a year.
Even though I played it off like it didn't bother me, it killed me inside. I didn't know how to deal with this since it had never happened to me before, so I dealt with it the only way I knew how and I sought refuge in a bottle. I was looking for answers to questions nobody was sure of. So all summer and winter long since it was so readily availible me and my friends were dropping acid regularly. In my life now I've had to have had at least 70 to 80 seperate hallucinogenic experiences.
As the effects and answers of LSD reigned as a superior and freeing experience in my life from summer to winter, I kicked my appetite for alcohol only to trade it for things that used to scare me and I promised myself I would never do. I then, while I was in college, developed a strong appetite for pharmeceuticals. To be more specific, opiates were my downfall. I always saw shows on drug addicts and watched all the movies in health class and I would always tell myself "Not me". But sure enough, not even those powerful images of the saddest most pathetic people would keep me from falling down my current path of self destruction. Sometimes I think I was so sad that I just gave up after a while and actually wanted to become an addict. For a long time every last dime and dollar I earned(or stole) went towards gas and Oxycontin.
Theres a funny thing about becoming a junky. I've always been a good liar, but theres something about being a junky that makes you even better. Suddenly your survival, or ability to obtain what you desire depends on your ability to lie and manipulate people. Pretty soon I was in the doctors office, and when I got out I had a perscription for the highest milligram of amphetamine you can get perscribed legally. Don't ask me what lie I came up with to pull this off because I'm not here to give anybody tips. The fact was I was using a lie to get free drugs from the government to sell to people so I could get my fix.
The only problem was that I never tried this drug before. So when I broke it out to try it before I sold it, I wasn't prepared for the extreme high it gave me. I never understood what meth was about untill I took this drug that the government gave me. Now I understand why meth is so bad, and addicting. Amphetamine was basically made for America, I can't think of any drug that goes better with the Americans value for work and industrialization. This drug would make you go all day and all night non-stop. Soon this perscription became more valueable than gold to me. I would stay up for 4 days straight and then sleep for a week.
After about 6 months of this I was hitting rock bottom, I lost an incedible amount of weight, I was stealing, I was generally one of the worst people to be around. Places that would frighten you make you cringe, I called home. I owe my life to my friend who basically saved me from myself. My friend came over to my house for the weekend and brought some mushrooms with him, he gave me these for free since I was the host. My parents weren't home for the weekend so it was perfect. We each ate about 3.5 grams of these, I ate mine all at once, my two other friends ate theres gradually since they don't enjoy the taste.
My friend told me they were picked all the way over in Oregon, brought down to NorCal, and mailed to him from his buddy. After about 15 minutes I was starting to have the hardest trip I have ever heard anyone having on mushrooms. This was like what I've read about DMT which is the strongest hallucinogenic known to man. We were all upstairs watching adult swim when it started to kick in really hard. Wether I opened my eyes or I closed then, it really didn't matter, I could not escape this everchanging sea of images that flooded my mind. I slumped down in my couch, and looked at the room which the light of the TV shown upon. The TV seemed as though it were a strobe light, and behind the voices of the squidbillies I could hear the voice of satan beconing me. I felt on the couch as though I were stuck between microscope slides, and I was flattened out for some supernatural being to examine me.
This freaked me out so I got up to go downstairs, I could barely walk so when I got to the top of the stairs I held onto the railing for dear life as I watched my once normal stair set spiral down infinatly towards the underworld. I got down there and sat in the bathroom by myself, this was such a bad idea. Not only could I hear everything that was going on upstairs, but I could also hear since I was in a quiet room a supersonic undertone which you cant hear normally but is always there. It was driving me crazy, it sounded much like a broadband connection. I couldn't take this anymore so I proceeded to my room which I couldn't even find as my house blasted off into space and turned like a lazy suzan.
So I layed on the floor by myself in the dark where I slowly sank down through the floor to my grave and my spirit descended into the underworld. While I was there my soul was put on trial. I was standing in the middle of a ring of cloaked peoples in a dark abyss. There was only one bright white light above me. They were determining wether I was worthy enough to keep living. They eventually spared me saying that I would keep living to do great things and please them. They were giving me a choice though, and they told me the next time I screw up that bad, that death would surely come.
After that, I'm not going to lie, I am not completely drug free. I've just learned not to let drugs control me, and when things start to get bad not to try to hide in a pill bottle. Even though I screwed up big time and hurt some people in the process, I don't regret anything that I did. I learned a great deal from this experience, and sometimes I look at it as if it were a test, and I came out stronger. I used to think about kate everyday during this experience. Now for the past 5 months I don't even think about her at all, I do once in maybe two months, I think of how she is doing and if people are treating her right. I now understand thats just the way things are, and its not my fault or anybody elses.
Even though all this was so surreal, I don't think anything is as surreal as the war inside. Its scary to think that you might be a prisoner in your own mind, and that you could be your own worst enemy.
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