So anyways frequent use of ecstasy and Molly has a huge rebound effect. Users experience depression and anxiety during “sober” periods. These episodes had a profound draining effect on me. Also I should mention using ecstasy can cause you to grind your teeth. I did that plus chewed my lip. Not cool always trying to figure out how to cover up my reoccurring fat, chapped lips. But we were young, naive, and enjoying the wild life. Despite this there actually came a point when The Man grew concerned about my habit.
“I’ll make a deal with you. I won’t do blow if you stop rolling.” Back then I abstained from using coke even though I had a few friends that used it, including The Man himself. Cocaine ranked high at the very top of the dangerous drug pyramid I had created in my mind. Realizing just how worried The Man had been about me, reluctantly I agreed to the bargain. Too bad his will power was lacking. At a party that very same night I watched him slip away into a bathroom with a few friends. When he reappeared he told me “The deal is off.” I wasn’t mad, disappointed, or anything like that. I didn’t take life seriously back then. I just kind of laughed the whole thing off.
My love of ecstasy caused three things to happen. My grades slipped. I was placed on Academic Probation – twice. I also moved out of my mom’s house. I considered myself a full fledged adult. I was 18, went to college, had a decent paying job. I figured I didn’t need my mom poking into my life. In other words I didn’t want some one to step in the way of me and my good time. I could have afforded rent on my own, but the idea of living with The Man was way more appealing. We found a cheap, little apartment and moved in together. Eventually I gave up on college altogether and I had dropped out. I had always been resentful of having to go to the local community college. If I could go back in time I’d kick my younger self in the butt for being so stupid and giving up on my education.
When you hang out with people that use drugs it can really influence you whether you realize it or not. So one thing led to another and I started to slide further down into my addiction. Yup, I crossed the line. Yup, I tried coke. Yup, I liked it. Sure, it gives you a stuffy nose and effects your sleep for a few days. It also gives you a huge rush of energy and a “high” feeling. I can share that whole first time experience, but to be honest that’s nostalgic and I refuse to see it in anything other than a dark, tainted light. I could explain how and why I tried it that first time, but that’s making excuses for my actions. Why is not important. What is important is that I did it.
I’d always thought if I tried coke I’d have a heart attack and keel over dead. It didn’t happen. I thought maybe I’d just do it once, but that didn’t happen either. Friday nights were drug fueled party nights. Slowly, my ideals were fading away and the drugs numbed me to this fact.
Shortly after moving into my own place, I got pregnant. For 9 months I was sober and clean. No way was I going to destroy my unborn child’s life like that. I don’t know how I managed it, but I did. We moved to a better apartment in a safer city. The Man worked hard and I stayed home to care for my daughter. Life was good. In all outside appearances it seemed like we cleaned up our acts and were focused on giving our child the best life humanly possible.
We really didn’t think about going back to those party days. I was fine with that. I didn’t care if I ever snorted a line again. I likened it to some rite of passage type chapter in my life that had happened, but was over. Life was all about my daughter and my family. Six months after DeeDee was born, I married The Man.
The thing was though, the baby’s grandparents wanted to have time with her. We always had sitters available to us whether we had big plans or not. So on Fridays Deedee would go to her grandparents house for quality time and The Man and I resumed partying.
Addiction creeps up on you slowly. Doing one line of cocaine isn’t going to ruin the rest of your life. However, the more you use it, the less of some taboo boundary it is. You aren’t aware that you’re forming a habit. Usually by Wednesday I was already itching for Friday.
A few years later I was a mom of three and struggling very hard to stop using. One of the things that made it seem impossible was that my friends used, my partner used, my siblings used. The habit was all around me, shared by the company I kept. My bank account started to dwindle. I did the math. We probably spent around 1 grand every month on freaking drugs. At the rate we were going bills were going to be left unpaid, food would be hard to put on the table, and I was fighting a tidal wave. I never gave up on trying to stop. Sometimes The Man was with me, other times not so much.
I think in hindsight we enabled each other and used each other to our own vices. It’s easier to blame some one else for the money your spending on drugs, using them, slowly decaying your own body. We went through clean spills, but relapsed. There was so many relapses, but we never gave up trying.
Finally an answer to our prayers came. A small white pill with 512 stamped on it. I won’t say how I came across it, but I will say that I figured out taking 1 or 2 pills a couple times a week kept The Man and I both from caving and buying / using cocaine. All we did was trade one addiction for another. I thought I had found the path to recovery, but really I was just starting to fall off of a cliff.
Like thousands of other Americans I became a crippling statistic in the opiate abuse epidemic that plagues my country. I was so naive.
This is so long & life calls me away 🙂
I’ll write part 3 tomorrow