July 5, 2010
Slipping the needls into the vein in the crook of my elbow, the pain was minimal. Despite the dullness of it, from daily use, the pinch of the hypodermic syringe was inconsequential. My threshold for physical pain was high. Dangerously high. It was my emotional threshold for pain the was low.
Registering and plunging the syrupy mixture into my bloodstream, I didn't have to wait long before my mind and body felt the effects of the meth. I felt strong. I felt incredible. Even my vision seemed incredibly acute. The world around me seemed brighter and more vivid. I felt like I imagined everybody else in the world usually felt. I felt "normal". Or what I thought normal was.
I was fifteen years old. Still a kid, but doing things most adults wouldn't dare. I had been racing down an easy road to travel, that would prove later on in life to be tolling on me physically, emotionally and spiritually. I was out of control, speeding in the fast lane towards oblivion. And I was determined to continue into the darkness. Headlong and screaming out for help. Nobody heard. It's a still a road.
All of these years later, I've learned that that easy route wasn't the road I'd wanted or needed to get to my desired destination. That easy road has shown to be the hardest one to get off of and stay offof. The narrow road with lots of turns and bumps is the right road, that leads to my destination. A road which still has many obscure lanes that lead back onto the easy route. The key is to continue traveling forward. The easy route you'll never move onward on...
1 week ago