That Other Life

Janice sat up, gasping.

Looking for threats, as always.

She was in a clean, white bedroom - clearly furnished for a couple.

Ok….

Not the first time.  Occasionally, for blow, meth, or ANYTHING, she had been the third party at a kink-fest....

Not today.

Today she felt...clean.

  Literally.

No aching head, no pounding heart, no cement-caked sinuses or glass-filled lungs.

Her head was clean.

Why?

Why was today different?

"Mom!" A boyish voice -not cracked, but husky- called.

A knock, and the door burst open

It was Shawn...her baby.  Last seen at the age of 5, crying as the police car rolled away; reaching for her and screaming, “Mama!”

She would know those Arctic Blue-grey tinged with periwinkle- eyes anywhere.

"Mom, you gotta sign this permission slip for the Gorge!"

She sat back and held out her (unshaking) hand for the paper – ready to sign anything to keep looking at her grown boy.  Her son.

The lump next to her stirred; turned over.

Colin? Husband? (Ex)

The man who restrained her crying babies as the police dragged her off?

The man who killed her Happily Ever After when he caught her?

Pills. Drugs.

Colin who consigned her to days and nights of Sex, Drugs, and Flophouses, when he cast her out?

She turned; ready to scratch his eyes out….

Adelaide walked in, flipping her caramel hair over her shoulder.

"Ew. Get a room, guys, or just get up. Feed me!"

Huffed out – flipping that hair again.

Addie, no longer a 7 year-old cherub, but a gorgeous long-limbed woman. 

What WAS this?

A second chance?  A crank-led delusion?

What?

Over the next few weeks, she settled in. 

Making pancakes, checking homework.

Momming.

But there were DREAMS.

The last 10 years of drugs, degradation, and desperation were a bad dream. 

Right?

But she kept having them, no matter how obvious it was, there was no truth to them.

No spiral into addiction after copping Shawn's Ritalin to cope with 50 hours a week at work, two kids, and a husband that spent too much time with The Blazers.

No blowjobs and begging.  No achingly pathetic life, wondering about those babies.

Just this.  Other Life.  Clean, shining, right.

Just this life.

Except for the DREAMS.

Of that life.

Waking up from those dreams, she needed a few shots of vodka.

Waking up from the dreams, she needed a handful of pills.

Waking up from the dreams, she needed to smoke a rock.

Waking up from the dreams, her beautiful babies were miraculous people, and her life was sane.

Clean.

Whole.

For Colin and Shawn and Addie, she stayed clean.  Whole.

One Saturday, as she was cleaning Shawn and Addie's bathroom, she saw it.

White cap, orange bottle.

OxyContin

Seduction in a bottle.  Salvation in a pill.  Spoliation in the palm of her hand.

On Wednesday, she opened the bottle.

On Thursday, she palmed two.

In case.

In case the dreams were too much.

In case…..

In case this life was too much.

In case.

30Day Challenge - Day 10--Drugs/Alcohol

My Views on Drugs and Alcohol

Yesssss!

Thank you, Ultimate 30 Day Blog Challenge!!  Easy Peasy.

My views on drugs and alcohol are as follows:

There is a time and place for that shit, and it’s called college.  Done.

Somewhere, there are some  very PROUD parents....

Actually, this is the perfect opportunity for me to bust out that soapbox and lecture you damn hooligans about your wayward, er...ways.

But that would be lame…and boring.  And a wee, tiny bit hypocritical.

You see, I am very fond of alcohol, as well as some drugs.  Before you hurry off to your phone to ring up CPS, I will let  you know that I don’t actually use drugs.  Anymore.

Let me give you some background here, before you get all up in arms and start being judgy and weird...I grew up in an area where everyone's parents did drugs.  At least everyone I knew.  Everyone's parents grew, smoked, and sold weed, and there were usually other assorted drugs floating around.  It wasn't some secret, clandestine, wait-til-the-kids-are-away kind of thing; it was right in our faces all the time.  Not that I grew up in a drug-house or anything, it's just that there were all kinds of people on The Ridge, doing all kinds of drugs, and not really hiding it from anyone.  And I don't mean crazy-ass stuff like crack or heroin; more like weed, mushrooms, weed, acid, weed, and more weed.  It was everywhere, and not really considered any big deal.

So, yeah, I smoked some pot in like, the 7th, 8th, and/or 9th grade -- or maybe 3rd grade?  I honestly don't remember, 'cuz that devil-weed, like, totally messes with your short-term memory, yo.  But, it totally didn't work for me.  Cotton-mouth, inability to speak, light-headedness, and the munchies--followed by MAD paranoia--not my favorite way to spend an afternoon.  Mary and Mary Jane are not friends--never really have been.

As you all know, Marijuana is a total gateway drug, and the gate it opened for me and a handful of my friends was LSD;  I took acid 3 times.  The first time was totally groovy and rad and I found out all kinds of really cool things about how the universe started and formulated all these theories about a collective unconscious and how our souls are all bound together and a bunch of totally cool stuff that I forgot all about as soon as the drugs left my system....

2 more trips down the information stupor-highway, and I was OUT.  Anything that affects me to the point where I can see, hear, feel, and smell the triceratops that was walking by my head is a wee bit too much for me!!

I was pretty good for a decade or so, until my friend Judit introduced me to Ecstasy.  Judit was a model from New York and had lived a decadent, dissolute lifestyle in the Big Apple, and really liked to party.  I can't tell you how many times we did it, but X was what I would classify as 'super-duper fun', as opposed to 'just kinda fun'.  
We would get off work at 4am, head to an after-hours club, pop some X, and dance for, like hours.  It heightens all of your senses, so you are very touchy-feely, and it feels like you can touch every fiber and thread of every piece of clothing you have on.  All of your nerves endings feel hyper-sensitive, and I spent a lot of time stroking people on their arms and heads because it felt so nifty; they were messed up too, so they liked it--or at least never asked me what the hell I was doing. 

Other side effect is rampant sweating--so all these people are soaking wet and smelly, FYI!

I probably could have continued taking X a couple nights a week until my brain leaked out of my ears, but something really bad happened.

Laxatives.

Now, I am no 'whatever-the-Breaking-Bad-dude's-name-is-that-used-to-be-the-jackass-dad-on-that-show-with-the-stupid-kid-that-was-buying-Ferrari's-when-he-was-12', so I did not know that when 'they' make X, they 'cut' it with stuff.  Sometimes that stuff is, like, heroin, caffeine, drain cleaner, horse tranquilizers, and other weird stuff.  

Sometimes that stuff....is laxatives.

Now, without going into too much detail and making me puke on the keyboard, I am just going to tell you that I got some X that was cut with laxatives.  So, there I was -IN A PUBLIC RESTROOM- with all of my senses heightened, and....

Or X, whatever....

Anyway, that was the end of my Xperience with that stuff....

I have taken mushrooms a couple of times, and that was pretty fun, but it isn't 1967, and I would rather spend my money on sushi and shoes than psilocybin.  

I have come to the conclusion, through experimentation and experience (i.e. science!), that doing drugs is kind of lame.  If you are interested in altering your consciousness, try meditating, bungee jumping, or having children.  All three things will induce altered reality states that don't result in you possibly accidentally ingesting heroin or sitting on a toilet in a public restroom for 3.5 hours with a literal tsunami of shit coming out of you.  

Bonus: if you have kids, you will be too poor to afford drugs!!

Also, drugs, even the 'soft ones' do icky things to your body--yellow teeth, premature wrinkles, damaged lungs, compromised internal organ function, the list goes on and on.  
See, children can do ALL OF THAT shit to you as well, AND there is no risk of going to jail, accidentally ingesting drain cleaner, dealing wih a tsunami of shit on a public toilet for 3.5 hours, OR some crazy dude with misspelled tattoos, a lazy eye, and a snaggle tooth double-crossing you on a drug deal and shooting you in an alley. 
 Win-win, there, folks.....Win. Fucking. Win.

Seriously. This dude knows what he is talking about!

 Which leads me to the second topic of this blog...

Alcohol..................ah, alcohol.

Looks good, right?  You know you want this.

So, those of you that know me well know how much I love to drink.  Drinking is super fun, and I try to make sure I do it at least once a day.  Strictly for health reasons, of course.

KIDDING!!!  I am only joking, ya'll.

But, seriously, I do like alcohol.  Kind of a lot.  Much like Ryan Gosling, I find alcohol to be versatile, intoxicating, and very good-looking.

Something for everyone!

Alcohol can be so many different things, depending on your needs!
Long week at work?  Run a bubble bath, turn on some music, grab a book and a glass of wine--you're all set for an evening of relaxation.  Football with the guys?  Head down to your local watering hole for a couple of pints and some greasy bar food!  Girls night out?  Complicated martinis and a bad-ass DJ, and you are set for a night of booty-shakin' fun!  Unplanned pregnancy on your to-do list this year?  Jameson on the rocks, ladies!!  Wait...maybe that's just me... 

So, yeah, I am a little fond of booze, ya'll, but everything in moderation.  Seriously, alcohol is far more aging than children, so you best go easy on it..... unless you want to look like these people:

        Don't be these guys.....DO NOT!