How sad is it, that a human being can become addicted to something that is so harmful to his or her mind and body? How sad is it that I was so heavily addicted to tobacco to the point where I couldn't go a day without a buzz? How sad is it that I would drink to escape myself? How sad is it that even though I despise what weed does to me, I still would more often than not choose to do it?
I've just recently pulled myself off of tobacco completely. I dipped for 5 years and smoked cigarettes for 3 months before I quit both. I't's been 2 and a half weeks since my last lip, and even though I had a couple smokes for New Year's Eve (read my Spinning in the New Year story to see how that went), I technically quit cigarettes a little over a week ago. I feel good. Very good. I always knew it was bad for me, but my urge to do it always superseded my logic. You see, the attracting factor was the buzz that nicotine would give me; the head rush and body high that I would get and would make me feel like everything was OK for about 10 minutes. I started dipping at 14 years old, as a freshman in high school. For the first few years, I simply did it because it was fun. But then, I started using it to deal with my negative emotions. And then, when I went through a breakup in September 2013, I started dipping 3x more and eventually started smoking cigarettes on top of that. Doing any substance is bad enough. But when you start using it as an emotional crutch, thats when the real problems start kicking in. You use because you're upset. But then when you come down, you're more upset than you were before because you realize what you're doing to yourself. So, in turn, you use. It's a vicious cycle. You use substances to curb the pain, to mitigate the anxiety, to tame the emotions. That's why people who are experiencing withdrawal are such angry, emotional wrecks. They can't deal with the whirlwind of emotions inside their head. They don't know how to. During aforementioned breakup, I heard a rumor that infuriated me. I had no dip on me, so what did I do? I punched a metal door and broke my hand. Not too long after that, I heard something that made me equally as mad. However this time, I had a tin on me. So I threw in a lip, and my anger was limited to yelling, and nothing and nobody got punched. I didn't realize what I was doing to myself; that the way I chose to deal with being an emotional cripple was only making me more of an emotional cripple. I didn't know how to cope with life.
I started drinking when I was 13 years old; 8th grade. To most people, that's a shock. The sad part is that I never thought much of it. It seemed normal to me. I've had my ups and downs with booze, but I never reached the point that you would consider alcoholism. I've had cases where alcohol has made me angry, aggressive and rowdy. I've tried to fight more than a few people with a liquor-soaked brain.
I started smoking weed at age 17, as a senior in high school. It was never my favorite thing to do. I've never bought pot. I don't own a bowl or a bong or any of that shit. It was just something to do when it was offered, if I felt like it. I hate what weed does to me. I've rarely had good experiences while high. It makes me timid, passive, sensitive and paranoid. So why did I do it? I don't know. I never knew. Maybe it was the hope that the high would make me feel better. It never did.
And what would happen if I ever combined the three? That's it. Game over. Strike out. Usually how these nights play out is with me feeling like I'm on cloud 9 for like 15 minutes, followed by my inevitable crash, followed by the spins, followed by me being a vomit-comet for about 2 hours until I pass out. It's this kind of thing for which I miss out on fun nights with attractive girls, ruin chill nights with my bros, and receive disappointed looks from my parents. It was one of these instances from which I received the nickname "The Sauce" from my friends (but that's a different story for a different time). This is exactly the reason I cockblocked myself in my Spinning in the New Year story. And it sucks, because I could tell you, spending the night with a girl is a lot more fun than spending the night with the spins.
Even without combining substances, there have been times when I've hated myself for how much booze I drank, or how much weed I smoked, or walking into class smelling like an ashtray. I've humiliated myself, let down my family and friends, ruined perfect opportunities, and done and said regrettable things all under the influence of substances. And for what? Why? I ask myself that every day. And I never seem to have an answer. But I may have an idea. Maybe it's not the substances that I'm addicted to, but the escape; the privilege of not having to deal with reality for a little while. Is my life really that sad? I think it is, but only because I made it that way. I made the conscious decisions to do these things. It's my fault. I realize now that we are not always slaves to circumstance. We are the blacksmiths who forge our own destiny. I'm choosing to stay away from weed and tobacco from now on. I'll drink, but I'm choosing to keep it under control. You do not need drugs to be happy. You can say no. It's as easy as a single syllable. And now, since I opened this piece with a quote, I'll end it with a quote: “Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." -- Whinnie the Pooh
-- Woody
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