I'm still afraid to come clean on this thing. This is just to push me to collect my thoughts and make the post.
Well here goes. Disjointed? Forgive me.
In prep school in NY I (9yrs old) tasted champagne at my mother's MSc graduation party. My brother cousin and myself were in charge of keeping the glasses filled. We managed to do that but by 2am we passed out in front of the TV where we sat watching the static on a channel.
In prep school after Common Entrance I (11yrs old) tasted Stone's Ginger wine. Solid as a rock. My brother, another cousin and I lay down in the road dizzy after having consumed shots of it, celebrating a birthday, passing exams, and going to 'foreign' the next day.
In high school I realised that the bottles of liquor we got every Christmas for years, were empty when I decided I wanted a drink, which meant that someone was enjoying them and I (4th form 14-yrs old) was left out. I then realised why my brother (12yrs old) slept so much.
My mind always races. I see conspiracy theories, connections and matrixian layers of reality/truth (not that I believe them). I'm suspicious of everyone (with good reason, ppl are inherently selfish). My psychology tells me why that is, but doesn't help me to fix the problem (fool's gold). People think I'm quiet..... it's because I can't compete with myself. My thoughts race through a topic long before I even get to utter a word. No I do not hear voices..... though I did in a fit of amusement try to name them once: The tangential thoughts not the personalities. At one time I had wondered if they were really other voices, but the tin of milo and condensed milk fiasco cleared that up for me real quick (no pun intended). In fact they were indiscernible from who I thought I was which meant that they were not separate, but parts of the same whole.
In 6th form I discovered rum and vodka. Sometime later I discovered that mixing them with stuff made them taste better. Apart from the warm tingly feeling, the thoughts slowed. Now I wasn't bored with a conversation after a few sentences, because I had already brought it to its logical conclusion in my head already. Sounds crazy?
"There is a space, a tiny place, in my soul I cannot face".
I enjoyed the drink and I never got hang-overs. I got sick when I mixed too much. Rum cream beer and vodka are not friends. They only share the aisle in the supermarket out of necessity.
Sandria appraoched me and told me she was concerend that I was enjoying the drinks between songs more than I was enjoying the songs (1998). I told her that the songs sounded better sung and played by uncle Ostrov. I completed my psychology degree (1999) with a large batman cup of screwdrivers or whatever quench aid I had mixed with Ostrov, Kirov, Smirnof, etc... in the car and in class. One day it occurred to me that the garbage bag kept making bottle noises. I was running through them like bottles of water. Common sense kicked in and told me that perhaps I was over-imbibing a bit. I'd cut back.
Trudy joined the basses just after we left the 'fassy' phase (1999-2000) and began the bashment millenium. She wanted to drink with the freedom I did. I facilitated. One morning (4am) when I was getting her home, she passed out in the car. I woke her up and she got in safely. When I drive drunk I am completely focussed if someone else is in the car because I won't put them at risk. After dropping her to Spanish town, I saw glimpses of the journey back and saw full consciousness in Duhaney park with no recollection after Ferry. I was so scared I decided that next time I would stop at 5 shots of tequila because surely it was the Mexican Gringo who couldn't get along with the Russian Mafia.
Trudy moved into town making things easier. Shorter distances meant proportionately more alcohol. We also shared a love for mentholated cancer sticks.
I always had phases where I dried out, touching nothing, to prove to myself that I didn't have a problem. I found that I ate more during that time and I smoked during those times. Something was going to be abused.
I guess I always knew that my problem wasn't the vice but the space I used the vice to fill. It was easier to drown it and it felt good at the same time. Or stuff it with food because then it tasted good and nigeritis would set in. Or asphyxiate it. Smoking was done in private because it was not socially acceptable to do so in my circle of friends. The new smoker is often hit by a wave of dizziness with the first few puffs. A spinning sensation which I found delightful. So I could not afford to become seasoned but had to do enough to avoid coughing myself silly as if it was my first stick.
I started with the bredrin dem (1995) and it was with them that it was most public. Based on what they could see it was minimal use. Another friend of mine who I was surprised he had started cause I thought he had more sense than that (he had the same thoughts about me), was the one who made me really stop and look at what I was doing (2001).
I have to be grateful for small mercies. Had I not been with psycho EX-g/f I would have spent more time with the bredrin dem at the time when they were experimenting with weed (1995-1997). God knows what the hell would have happened to me then. Not to say that I didn't try it at all. Just not with them. I was at a session at union (1996) with a sistren who smoked weed all day, drank when she had none and smoked cigarettes to take off the edge. I was just getting into the smoking habit and another bredrin had told me earlier that day that he tried weed that afternoon and walked around campus for hours all hyped. Today it sounds daft, in 96 it sounded reasonable. We decided that we'd give it a try that night.
At first, nothing. Then I noticed that my thoughts began to race faster than usual, but my body couldn't keep up. Everything looked like it was going in slow motion and I was helpless to do anything about it. I tried to move faster to keep up but just couldn't, my body refused to respond. I hated the experience because of the complete loss of control. Again? HELL NO!!!!
At least with my other vices there was the illusion of control.
I sat myself down (2001/2) and accepted that I needed to sort out this issue before it was too late. I started talking with my spiritual advisor (I'd been under using him till this point) who later became my therapist as well (free of charge because I have such wonderful stories to tell and I make him laugh). God has helped me.
It's been years since I've lit up. I still do enjoy strong drink but nowhere near that level of self-destruction. I don't know if my liver has forgiven me yet.
About me I have said too much and yet not enough, but ..... That'll do donkey. That'll do.
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