Sunday, December 12, 2010

Drug Bust



Sarah and Andy, teenage siblings
 
Drugs are really weird.  Personally, I would say I've had a moderate experience with them, nothing crazy, nothing too tame. 

My first drug experience, outside of alcohol (which, yes, I know, is a drug), was actually a nitrous balloon at one of the many house parties I used to go to in high school on Saturday nights.  Everything turned completely green and giddy, and of course that awesome feeling lasted all of 30 seconds (although it really could have been 30 light years, for all I know).  From there it was pot, which, honestly, is it even necessary to write about?  Almost every single person in the entire world has done it, and if they haven't, well, that's just weird.  Sorry, but it is.  After that there was Ecstasy, which -- dare I say it? -- was ecstatic, and which was plentiful in California during the 1980s.  Unfortunately, I did that a few too many times, and probably destroyed more brain cells and spinal nerve fluid than I'd like to think about.  I never really got into hallucinogenics, because, of course, I'm way too paranoid to enjoy letting my mind run away with me.

Then it got kind of weird.  I went to college and still did all those things I listed above, but I also kind of got into prescription pills.  I developed terrible insomnia and anxiety when I went away to school, and the school shrink (seriously, WHY was there a school shrink?!) prescibed me Xanax.  Looking back, I think I was completely hooked on it, although I didn't realize that at the time.  I even took too many one time and got into a car accident, but my muscles were so loose and lethargic, that I came out unscathed.  God, I was a disaster.

Things subsided for a while after that, although my twenties were really one giant cocktail party (now THAT was fun!).  At 29 I became pregnant with my first child, and, of course, my frivolous ways came to a screeching standstill.  As I described in my first blog entry, after Bella was born I kind of became a little OCD.  I would obsess about the weirdest shit, like what time to the minute the garbage men would arrive and how to keep my daughter's hair free from grease for as long as possible (I wouldn't even let my husband touch it!).   Total psycho, I know.  So my doctor put me on an anti-depressant which was fine for a while, and then I would go off of it every time I got pregnant.  But after Teddy (my third and final), I went on the drug for a little while, and then eventually came to the realization, "Why the fuck am I numbing myself?"  We're humans, we're MEANT to feel things, you know?  And I'm not saying people don't need it, because they do.  There are chemical imbalances and deep depression and all sorts of conditions that those drugs (and others) are a godsend for.  I'm just saying that, for me personally, I like to feel and to feel deeply - joy, sorrow, anger, whatever.  And fortunately I'm not terribly OCD anymore (probably a little of the opposite, ironically enough), but I DO have emotions and pain and all the crazy stuff that goes along with, just, you know, life.

Here's the downside: all those feelings are draining!  I'm emotionally exhausted, like, 99.9% of the time (although that could just be from my three adorably maniacal children).  But I now feel challenged and motivated like never before, and that in itself is kind of exhilarating.  Not that I don't like to go out and get a little crazy occasionally...ummmm, ok, often.  But then when I'm on, I'm really on.

And on that note, I need a drink.

2 comments:

  1. Thanks for your courage and honesty in writing this post!

    ReplyDelete