I'm moving this thread here because I DO think this explores a strong personal philosophy of mine. It was originally posted in the Chill Out Room ages ago, but they are nuking that forum very soon so also I didn't want it to be lost. If you feel this is inappropriate feel free to move it where you think it belongs. Thanks.
(Disclaimer: Ashke's writing this mildly tripping, bear with her. This will get on-topic. Eventually.)
You know that very cautious and responsible breed of drug user? Didn't start taking drugs til at LEAST eighteen, probably early twenties? Basically your average Bluelighter. Ideal bluelighter, rather. We nudge the new users on here towards that mold every day.
But what do you do when you get the little kid who wants your help with harm reduction? Are you going to stop them with an age issue, really? You wouldn't have stopped me. Surely I'm not the only bluelighter who got fucked up at fifteen and felt justified in the attempt.
I did. I was an experimental girl, okay? And I certainly wasn't afraid of the medicine cabinet.
Wow check this out, if I eat the ones with the orange sticker of the dizzy looking guy -- I get dizzy! But how dizzy? Well, try one first, duh. How dizzy was that? Go from there...
It wasn't hard. I was cautious, you know? I didn't want to hurt myself. I just wanted to know what this stuff did. How'd it feel?
I had it under control.
I was just playing see, these things HAD to be fun if mom and dad were still hanging on to a script that ran out years and years ago, right? (I was usually right.)
So I got to know the medicine cabinet and its mysterious contents. My mom was a nurse and I realized she had all these books on her shelf about what drugs do what, and the names didn't always match up but when they did it could be real useful. By thirteen, I had it down.
Didn't take long to realize that ALL that dizzy stuff was really boring compared to my brother's ADD medicine! Same for these things my mom had to help her... diet? Mom's on a diet? But she still seems so fond of fast food and ice cream! Curiouser and curiouser.
But who cares what SHE wants it for, coz this stuff has better side effects than that, serious. I mean WHOOOOOOA! I think I wanna go... socialize? And then... do my homework!? Yes, this was definitely some powerful magic here.
It was more. I felt sharper, capable. Like I'd finally figured out this whole being thirteen with parental expectations thing. You know, "Yatta yatta... not applying yourself.. blah blah blah ... with your IQ scores.. yatta yatta" (Gee, unimaginable that I might use these brains to figure out what a terrible waste of effort junior high is..)
But okay, they wanted me to jump through these hoops, and when I took this stuff before going to school that day the hoops didn't suck quite so much, I wasn't so shy around my classmates, and I just usually had a much better day in general.
And I was so careful. Building up a little network of grade school pill swappers, well that was only practical because clearly I liked this stuff too much to keep using my brother's shit without someone noticing.
But I was concerned with health stuff too. Like how even tho *dieting* seemed a ridiculous reason to take a beautiful drug like dexedrine, it definitely DID cut my appetite down to nothing. But just because I'm taking dexedrine, it doesn't make my body need food any less, right? So I eat at dinner time, even if it tastes like cardboard. Gross, blech... necessary.
I mean, I wasn't an idiot. You think I did the first line of coke that was chopped for me? Naw, I studied my highschool's elite theatre crowd and their drug habits for a LONG time before deciding to blow the line. And the line wasn't coke, it was meth.
Meth? Seemed smart. I tried to figure it all out beforehand. But these suburban closet cokeheads, all caught up in glamour and bullshit.. They all acted like meth was just this less intense substitute when they couldn't get good stuff. Meth was just coke lite. I-can't-believe-it's-not-coke! Phah.
Their attitude didn't make sense to me. From what *I'd* heard, meth was supposed to last a lot longer, and it was far cheaper. And who CARES if it's not a more intense high? The length should make it worth it! I still wanted SOME high -- that ADD shit hadn't been going up my nose just to keep me on task at school.
Yes, some high was good. But INTENSE high? That might be hard to control. I'm a control freak kinda. I liked these drugs because they put me IN control, see? So let's recap... it's long lasting, cheap, and it will get me high but not 'intense high'. Gosh, meth was the perfect drug!
I found myself horribly addicted to the shit in a matter of weeks. Weeks!
I wish I hadn't overlooked the computer as a valid place to learn. God, I wish I'd found something like Bluelight back then. That shit totally took me by surprise. But I couldn't find anyone who would give me a straight answer without giving me a lecture. Anyone with some experience or knowledge to share could have cleared up my misconceptions, given me new things to consider.
Though it's kind of weird to think of my pretentious fifteen-year-old self trying to hold her own on Bluelight. I mean damn, back then I thought I had my shit together. I'm always so surprised at how MEEK today's Bluelight young'uns are when they try and defend themselves from all the responsible bluelighters riding the 'eighteen and up' high horse. I woulda been all, 'Uhm fuck you, give me information about it or go away!' TOO YOUNG TO CONSIDER IT? You don't know me. I'm mature for my age. I'm so careful. And I consider EVERYTHING.
Sometimes I see ghosts of Miss badass knows everything fifteen year old me. I'm both frightened and fond of her. I will do anything for her.
Those little girls bouncing about asking for paper and pens in the line outside a party that requires seventeen and under to bring a parent permission slip. You know, if she doesn't use mine, the guy behind me will fork one over. Miss badass knows everything has decided for herself that she's getting into the party no matter what... Will she behave? Dunno. Have my pen, darling. Have a wonderful time.
They aren't always so brave as the Miss Badass I was. The boy who couldn't meet my eyes as I taught him how to bleach a needle. "Can you teach me how to do this so I can show my friend how?" Sure thing kid. I used to watch my boyfriend do it. But he was a dumbfuck, you or your friend or whoever should get a hookup on clean picks.
Oh, and on New to XTC? I see ghosts everywhere.
They're coming to me with these questions on how to be safer.. What went wrong? Wasn't I right about this? I thought I understood... Is this normal? Can you help me?
And of course they're questions I've answered a BAZILLION times earlier that past month. Same dumbfuck topics wrapped up different flavors of teenage badass 'tude. And my answers may get tedious to my own ears, but how can I stop reacting? How can I withold something that might help?
So I stop. I take a moment.
Do it like this. Don't mix those! Don't take so many next time, christ! Like this. Let me help. Again. And again. Same topics return from new, grammar-impaired children.. same dumbfuck questions I have to answer. Gladly. Like this, kid. Let me show you.
~*~ Ashke ~*~
[This message has been edited by Ashke (edited 17 June 2000).]
[This message has been edited by Ashke (edited 27 October 2000).]