Shoulda Just Said NO!

I was outside smoking today with a couple of coworkers. Ironic that we all work for the company that provides products and support for the state funded tobacco quit line. The three of us were reminiscing about our young and stupid days, mine being two decades ago while theirs were more like two years ago. I wondered if they would have ever imagined that, at one time, I did, in fact, have a wild side. Nights filled with drinking tequila, dancing on bars and picking up men. Days consumed with hangovers, shaky hands and serious regrets. I did, however, remain somewhat responsible; never missing a day of work.

I also dabbled, just a bit, in trying drugs. When I was married to my first husband, I smoked pot. My husband absolutely loved his weed. I, on the other hand, was not very fond of it. I mean, seriously, how could you enjoy something that makes you so miserable? I was already morbidly obese, so wanting to eat everything morsel of junk food available did not seem advantageous to me. Looking out of the living room blinds, knowing that the police would be knocking on my door to arrest me for smoking a joint, did not seem like much fun. Going out in public, imagining that everyone knew what I had been doing was just too nerve wracking. Smoking pot turned me into a paranoid, fatter mess.

When I was with my second husband, he used cocaine on a recreational basis, maybe once or twice a year. I knew very little about this drug, never had even seen it before. I did know, however, that it didn’t make you want to eat everything under the sun. Since I had been told that it would help me lose weight, and I was still obese, I figured that it may be a good thing for me to try. I accompanied him to the home of his connection. My husband handed me a tray with white powder on it and showed me how to consume it. I was very hesitant to try this drug. I snorted a very small amount, probably about three or four granules. Very soon after I consumed the cocaine my heart began to race and the room started to spin. Did I mention that I suffered from panic disorder? I asked my husband to get me out of the house. Once outside, I was so freaked out that I began running around in circles in the side yard. I must have been quite a sight, running around the drug dealer’s yard, in broad daylight like a crazed maniac begging my husband to take me to the hospital. Needless to say, that was the last time I ever tried any type of drug.

I would have made the perfect poster-child for educating our youth against drugs. Just say NO or you will end like me. A chicken dancing, window peeping, maniacal, nut job!!