I’ve been to the edge, falling off into what feels like a deep endless pit; Hitting face down in mud so deep that when you finally stood up the mud reached your knees. I would attempt to climb out, only to fall back into the muck a little deeper each time.
I first smoked marijuana at the age of 12 with a friend of my fathers. I didn’t really know what to expect and honestly I didn’t care. I was thinking more about the fact that my father’s friends were giving me attention. After only a few hits of the marijuana my head began to fly to other places, and it made me smile. The high kept my mind off what my fathers friends took turn doing to me, while I laid naked in the grass.
From that earliest time of being abused, I learned being high helped to make things ‘okay’, or at least easier to deal with. I guess that’s why I can’t stop smoking weed; it allows me to feel ‘okay’ when things aren’t going so good.
On New Years Eve I got high with a few friends for the first time in a few months. The next morning I got high again with the left over roaches that were in the ashtrays. I was so relaxed and at ease hiding in my back bathroom alone, smoking every little remaining piece that I could find. Later that evening my body wanted more, my mind wanted more, and I wasn’t going to deny myself any longer.
It’s been 5 days now since I’ve returned to smoking, and I already feel out of control. I just finished smoking 2 joints and as soon as I’m finished with this I’m going to go smoke another. It would help if the fucking weed was good, but the last bag I got from a bitch friend in Tulsa, the shit will barely get you high. One of my other connections from Eden got into a fight with his girlfriend and she threatened to turn him into the police, even though she smokes herself, so he won’t be selling any of the good stuff for a little while. My third guy from Glenpool got locked up, so now I’m going to my number 4 guy tomorrow or Saturday to see what he’s got.