The High Life: Part 2 Of My Drug Years

Part 2 – Part 1 here

I had moved to White Plains near the end of spring during my 9th-grade year. Thank God I was going out with that senior so somebody could pick me up and bring me “back home.” That summer was hard. It may as well have been another country. I spent all of it smoking, drinking, and getting high. One night while under the influence, we even spray-painted the local dam. Nowadays, that would be nothing, but back then? WOAH! My first crime I got away with.

Summer was coming to an end and my boyfriend was getting ready to go to college. His parents never liked me after they found out how young I was, but you know how that goes… It was more enticing. What could I do to keep him as a boyfriend? I gave it up. This may sound emotionless, but that is precisely how it felt. I felt nothing and I never did. That’s the truth.

Maybe it was him or perhaps it was me … I don’t know, but even not feeling anything, I kept doing it anyway. It was something I felt I had to do to keep him, otherwise, he may not love me and would leave me. I had zero self-esteem.

The High Life Increases

10th grade was full of turmoil for me, and things got worse. I only went out with this guy for a few more months – life had changed. I was a desperate young lady, and my loneliness was so bad that one night, not long after turning 15, I stole my mother’s car in the middle of the night to see my best friend. (Remember that guy who helped me under the tree while I puked in last weeks story). When I got two flat tires on the way home, I had to wake my mother in the middle of the night to tell her. Another – WOAH moment. So lucky I survived that and my mother didn’t kill me. Good thing she didn’t realize I had a couple of beers that night or she might have.

I give you a glimpse into 10th grade in my racism blog and what my emotional state was at the time. I latched onto whatever friends I could. The first ones to welcome me were great people! I will forever be thankful to them because you know what? If I had no friends, it might have been worse. But the beautiful people that I was friends with had their own stories.

We weren’t involved in extra-curricular activities, like sports, which is why I made sure my kids were. We all seemed to come from different family situations who escaped from their lives rather frequently. Many of which I bet will tell you they had their own story of why they were escaping. But this is mine. So much of it was normal, getting high and drinking, but I was getting high in my room alone when my mother was at work. Eventually, I was getting high on the way to school, in between classes and after school.

Introduction of the Hallucinogenics

At some point, I was introduced to mescaline. I am not even sure if that still exists, but that became a weekend norm. Drinking, smoking pot, and taking mescaline. Everyone was doing it! At least that’s the way it seemed to me because everyone I was hanging out with was doing it too. Or maybe not? I don’t know because I was always high! There were times I took it during school and was even wasted during high school graduation.

There are a lot of details I honestly just don’t remember. We were going to the bars at 16. It was easy to change the 62 on my license to a 60. It was an eraser and a pencil. So often when I see people that know me, and I have a hard time remembering them, I hope I didn’t do anything stupid and attribute it to the fact that I was always high or drunk on something.

I would snort lines of speed, took blotter acid on occasion and even tried mushrooms a bunch of times. I drew the line at angel dust or crack. Crack was starting to be the up and coming drug back in the day. There was somebody I was friends with who thought he was snorting cocaine and it was Angel Dust. He was in a local psychiatric hospital for months afterward and that scared me – so I did have a modicum of sense. I can’t tell you the first times I did any other particular drug, but I can remember the last times because I was scared.

The Last of Some High Times

I stopped smoking pot around 20 years old because I was getting heart palpitations, anxiety, and it was making me paranoid. It wasn’t fun anymore, so I just stopped. Thank God that it was just that easy for me.

Mescaline … I was at a concert at The Brendan Byrne Arena and took mesc on the way (I may have taken more than one), and we had Vodka hidden on our bodies. When we were entering, all our booze got taken away so we couldn’t drink. Somewhere during the warm-up band, my heart started pounding every time they banged on a drum. I kept walking out, but it wouldn’t stop. I was tripping.

A couple of strangers offered help, but I got my friends and made them leave. I was begging them to drop me off at that same local psych hospital. They wouldn’t do it and kept telling me I would be fine. I am sure they didn’t know what to do because we were all messed up. When I got home, I got a random call from a friend visiting in town and told him I needed help. Thank God! He stayed with me until the wee hours of the morning, and I came down off that high. I never did that again.

I really didn’t do mushrooms often, but they were my favorite. One night, I was literally hanging out my friend’s car howling at the moon. Something went wrong, my heart was pounding, and my friends dropped me off. Again, I was blessed to have somebody not take advantage of me and talk to me until the wee hours of the morning until I came down from that trip. I took another mushroom.

Acid … I went to see Queen down at Madison Square Garden. How I remember it is me entering on the floor, and the crowd parting with smoke billowing on the sides, and there was a straight pathway from me to Freddy Mercury. The only other thing I remember after that is leaving and trying to walk into a strip club. There may have been an altercation with the bouncer. That’s all I got and don’t remember doing it again. Oh boy, I was tripping pretty hard. I didn’t know how to go to a concert NOT totally high on something and I went to a lot of concerts.

Wrapping Up Part 2

The way I see it or remember it, I was always high and/or drunk for 4 or 5 years straight.

I had many reasons. On top of last weeks post, my lack of a father, and the child abuse, I was also dealing with more incidents of older males taking advantage or trying to take advantage of me. (#metoo blog). I enjoyed every minute of my escape. Until I didn’t. All of these drugs made me happy! Each one made you smile, laugh, and not have a care in the world. Until they didn’t.

While all of these things were ending, another one was starting. Part 3 coming as soon as I have the courage.

I am incredibly grateful to God that I was able to survive these teen years and the ones ahead. It could only have been by the grace of God, that I am alive, and I know that.

I have to be honest, this was the reader’s digest version of those years. One day when I write my book, there will be way more details and stories of those years.

Much Love and sorry if I shocked anyone, but I am still me!

Sandy

#enlighten #empower #inspire #educate and #BeKind because you never know what somebody has been through.