Thursday, May 19, 2011

Progression (And Not The Good Kind)

By the time I was 16 I had been smoking pot daily for 2 years, drinking regularly experimented with Valium, and Ritalin, and some other drugs. The more my use increased, so did my crazy antics. I would do almost anything on a dare. Hanging out of car windows flying down a back road, hanging drunk over a rapidly moving dam, and many other stupid things. (I'm amazed I survived my teen years.)

Another thing I decided to do at 16 was take acid for the first time. This would be the first occurrance of many. Did many stupid things while under the influence of that as well.

I shoplifted like crazy as a teen, in fact I prided myself on how stealth I was. Most of my wardrobe was stolen. My parents always asked where I got things, and I would lie and say friends bought them for me, gave them to me, or I found a deal shopping.

This was also the year I met an older pot dealer. I made $10 an hour either in cash or pot cleaning his house. So I was never without either. Everyone I hung out with used drugs. That was all my life revolved around, and I could never see myself quitting. How would life be any fun? All the super cool people did drugs.

I had no idea what I wanted to do in life other than cause trouble and get high. I had no idea how I was going to support myself. All of my dreams were slowly going by the wayside.

I had some silly idea that prince charming was going to come along and life would just happen. The house, the kids, and everything else.

I was getting worse and was fully clueless on the road ahead. I thought I was special an

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