Many of you already know that I feel as if I've been living a double life for a long time. I have the professional part of my life - which I truly hate - and the other part...The Real Me. The Real Me has struggled with sobriety for the last few years. The Real Me has, in fact, been clean of all illicit drugs since 1998. The Real Me smoked for 17 years and quit cold-turkey.
But The Real Me has also borderline-abused her prescription meds for a few years now. The Real Me quit AA cold-turkey and started drinking again - more and more often as of late. The Real Me resumed smoking (in secret, of course because we all know my boyfriend and parents would shit themselves) Marlboro Menthols. The Real Me has started keeping secrets (3.5 of them, actually) from everyone in her life except one woman: her best friend. I'm not even in a place where I can feel as if I can trust my therapist and tell him everything yet.
The Real Me has started acting like a lunatic. I'm losing my house, I hate my job, I lost my grandfather, I lost a great friend, and I feel pretty damned alone. I've been betrayed by someone I thought was a friend, I feel as if my boyfriend is kind of fickle and that his affection is conditional, and I almost feel as if I have nothing else to lose. That's over-exaggerating, but it's my perception most of the time.
I spend too much time daydreaming about other ways I can perpetuate my downward spiral. WHY? I don't know.
So today I was thinking about the drugs I used to do, the ones that I was using during the best times of my life, and then started doing Internet searches to see if I could find any more information about it.
My "gateway drug" was LSD. Is that even a gateway, or just jumping straight off the high-dive? Whatever. The first kind I had was called Looney Tunes and was printed with tiny images of the Looney Tunes characters. The first kind I ever saw on a full sheet of blotter paper with repeating patterns of Daffy Duck. I'm amazed at how many images of that particular design are all over the web.
But the one I remember the most, that was actually manufactured in my city and was around forever was the Blue Hawaiian. I can't even begin to tell you how many of these I took. I even remember helping my boyfriend split up sheets upon sheets and bag them up for sale.
Right or wrong, I sure do miss the trip. I don't hear about my students taking this kind of stuff. I have no idea if anyone even makes it anymore. Maybe I'm just around the wrong demographic of teens.
I wouldn't go down that road again, no matter how badly I want to. I know for a fact that Troy would leave me in a heartbeat if he found out. His whole family likes me and thinks I'm wonderful. My family has always known I'm a powderkeg so, if I relapsed again (yes, again), it wouldn't surprise them one bit, I'm sure. But I don't want to disappoint an entire family that just accepted me and enfolded me into their lives and I'm not sure it's worth it.
I'm functional. I don't get drunk on nights when I have to work the next morning. I don't smoke in my house. I haven't used prescription drugs in ways inconsistent with their labeling since about the time Steve died in June. I need to keep myself under control but, as my title says, I'm really just "one JagerBomb away from a breakdown."
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