...my parents told me that they were going to take me
down to VA to "stay with some people who could
talk with me about drugs" or something like that.
I envisioned sitting around in a cabin by a lake
somewhere with some older burnouts talking &
maybe even catching a buzz once in a while...
- from an earlier post of mine (17568)
It's been 20 years. Before I went in, I had ran away from home for
about a month. I guess it was late September/October, so I also said
to hell w/ going to school. It was a new school, and I didn't know
anyone anyway, (I had failed out of the last one.) I ran away because
I had gotten grounded over something like staying out too late on a
school night or something. I was tired of my parents trying to run my
life. I wanted out of school. I really had no realistic goals about
what to do with my life other than being in a punk band. Go ahead and
laugh, but I was in one, had started playing gigs around town here
and there, and loved playing music more than anything (which I admit
wasn't really saying too much...) My parents, especially my mom, did
not like the anti-social overtones of that brand of music at
all...even less did she like my shaved-head & mohawk haircuts. This
was 1982. This sort of thing was not accepted at all back then by
most people. Not the way it is today. Anyway, so I ran away & stayed
with some friends of mine who were out on their own & living in apts.
(I hung w/ an older crowd.) when I ran out of places to stay, I came
back home. I remember coming down with a really bad flu and spending
a week or two laying in my room listening to dark classical music
and "Abbey Road." Sorry, but this is all I remember. I remember going
to see "A Clockwork Orange" with my friends. As far as drugs go, at
the time I had slowed way down & was just drinking and smoking herb
occasionally, instead of getting high every day, and drinking
frequently like I did throughout highschool. It seems that I needed
some direction in life, or at least to have someone say to me - "look
you're going to have to either get it together with school or go out
and get your ass a job"...or something along those lines. I don't see
drugs as being my problem and I didn't then. I was no "addict." When
I got back to my oldcomers house on my 1st night in, he proceeded to
verbally attempt to tear down my belief that I did not need to be in
that place. I told him I was in a band and that we played gigs. He
said things like: "Guitarists are a dime a dozen, they don't need you"
About my appearance he had to say "if I saw a guy like you around
here in my past I would have kicked your ass" I kind of believed him.
At one point while he was berating me I came back with, "You don't
phase me..." He didn't like that at all. I remember that night
sleeping with no pillow.
Over two years later I 7-stepped. Did it help? No. Not long after, my
mom threw me out of her house for something I can't even remember. I
went to live with my dad until I found a place in the city to live.
It wasn't more than 3-4 months before I decided I was going to start
drinking again. Then I indulged in just about everything but heroin.
Had some good times, had some bad times. But I sure as hell wasn't
straight and I was getting laid. So here I am 20 years later, not
able to support my family without help. (though I'm working at
getting out from under to be fair to myself)I'm just trying to enjoy
what's left of my life...that's all for now.
Alex
[ This Message was edited by: AlexL on 2002-11-12 07:19 ]
