Last night as I lay in bed reading I found myself lost in my own thoughts. Letting pages turn without ever absorbing the words I had read. My life is so intense at this moment trying to step out even for a minute is proving hard. Thoughts swirling in my head. Knowing I am going to move on today about my life story and making it as true to myself as possible I can't seem to go there in my head. Before, when it was time to write about it, the thoughts were in my head , the memories were rushing in, and I knew the window of opportunity had arrived, and I better get it out in a hurry before the memories disappeared.Right now I am urging myself to move on because I am at a bad place in my memory and want to get through it. Trying to take away some of the pressure of what life is like right now in our home. There is a dark energy in the home that I am trying desperately to clear. I may be that energy. I may be the one holding on to pain and resentment. Time to move forward...
So much happened so fast in those days. I can hardly believe it. Certain that at least a year is missing from my life. I can't find it. I know it is gone though. There is not enough time left in my journey with drugs to have done all I did and still be married by Feb '96. It makes me crazy not because I can't remember the events but more in the sense that I want it to be non-fiction and chronological. Maybe what seemed like years, were actually months. Maybe what seemed like months, were actually weeks. Being so distorted at that time in my life this is very much a possibility. Accepting that, I think I can move on.
After the mushroom bust, I was able to keep my job. I continued to work with what little clientele I had but my heart was not there. She tried to help me out by letting me continue to work at her shop but I was not contributing anything good to it. Having grown up in this town made it difficult for me to hold my head up high around others due to the shame of being in the towns paper and now everyone knew about me. I missed my 5 year reunion knowing there was no way in hell I was showing my face there. I was so ashamed and that was not a feeling I knew what to do with. So I did the only thing I knew to and that was more drugs. I delved into them. Inhaled a lot of fumes. Finding that it was a way for me to completely disappear from the world. Killing millions of brain cells never crossed my mind at the time and now suffering from short term and some long term memory loss I think I may have made a different choice. Having years and years to think about this time in my life when huffing was something I did on a regular basis. Finally coming to the conclusion that it did make me simply go away. Feeling nothing and absorbing nothing, simply going through the motions.
In this time, there was a guy who was more of a convenience to me, than a boyfriend. Although he did not know that. His family....dealt drugs and I needed drugs. He lived in the home with them. He was the one kid in the family who did not use and did not deal. Spending most of my time between his house and Austin. Remembering back I definitely know I did not want to be with this guy. I did not love him for even a minute. He loved me and wanted to be my protector. Wanted to save me. That wasn't going to happen. The only reason I spent so much time over there is because they had cocaine and pot which I wasn't allowed to have. Being saved and all. They grew attached to me and felt for me in a weird way that, what was good for others, was not good for me. So I stole it and lots of it. Having a lot of time in there home I knew where they had the operation running in the home. I knew where the keys were and anytime I had an opportunity I was in there grabbing anything I could get my hands on. The thrill of the steal was almost as exhilarating as the coke.
I was forced during this time to be on drugs privately. Lonely and without friends to share with I often retreated to Austin to stay with either Cindy and Willie or the guys in the band Split. I would go for weeks at a time. Not notifying anyone in my family of my whereabouts. Things had changed in the short time I had left. The club I went to and got all my freebies had changed ownership. Meandering in the door without a cover charge was a thing of the past. I remember the first time I ordered a drink and walked off with it. Astonished is the word to describe the bartenders. The money I had, needed to last me as long as possible so I could stay longer and buying frozen sangrias was not a priority. Once the money was gone, well that meant driving back to Brenham. I didn't want to go back but the thought of actually finding a job in Austin never crossed my mind. Of course not. Why would it?
Basically it all boils down to this. I spent months following this same pattern. I was mostly barefooted with cutoff jeans and t-shirts. Drugs were my #1 priority at the time and getting them was way too easy. Hooked....but not yet suffering the cost that drugs make people pay. My setup was working. Always looking for a better time or an opportunity to bail out of my life responsibility. No longer going to probation meetings because of drug testing. I was 23 years old at the time. Think about it. What were you doing at 23? I was sitting on the curb of a convenience store all day waiting for other druggies. That sentence right there brings me to my next post. That right there, on that curb, is what sent me on the fast track to disaster. Sitting there hot from the sun and broke with no drugs and no job. Soon to be suffering the cost. It is where I first saw him and asked Big D who he was and what was his story. I will call him Elvis. Until next time.
