Drugs?
Sugar
Probably my first drug, and ultimately the hardest to kick was sugar. We poured it on bleached white wonder bread and had sugar sandwiches. We overdosed on it at Christmas, Halloween and especially easter when we recieved a giant basket full of chocolate bunnies, marshmallow peeps, jelly beans and gooey Cadbury Eggs. We'd go through a few gallons of milk, my four brothers and I as it was the only thing that could take the edge off. I remember the shaking and sweating of a sugar over dose. And I remember that when a big glass of milk and some dinner I couldn't wait to load in some more sweet stuff.
Hyperventilation
Another childhood high was lack of oxygen, hyperventilation, auto-affixiation. Spinning in circles to get dizzy had lost it's former charm and a friend introduced me to the wonder of hyperventilating. We'd take fast deep breaths for as long as we could, until we felt dizzy and then we'd breath out as deeply as possible and hold it as long as we could, wrapping our own hands around our throats or having a friend help in that regard. This would cause us to pass out.
It was so strange to be under, seeming to go right into REM sleep, there were definately dreams, and then you'd open your eyes and wonder why you weren't waking up in you bedroom. Why were you waking up in the gym with all the other kids staring at you, your lips tingling. They'd all start speculating and weather or not you were faking and who would go next while you tried to get back in touch with reality. The first question of your lips would be "How long was I out." and the amazing answers was "Thirty seconds." That thirty seconds changed the rythm of the rest of your day. If I had parents knew what we were up to they might not have been so afraid of the dreaded marijuana. Hell, we'd have been better off sparking up a joint.
Ritalin
If I'd put my mind to it I might have been able to enjoy this one. I resisted it. I did not want to take it. The few times I was duped into actually swallowing the little pill I was a zombie. I'd sat at my desk and drool and the teacher was thrilled. I wasn't doing any better at focusing but I wasn't being a distraction. She gave my parents glowing reports of my improved behavior. The other kids were to be told that I was going to the nurse to treat my asthma. When the teacher broke our agreement, yelling, "Why are you so unruly? Did you take your pill today?" I chucked a chair at her head. I hadn't in fact taken my pill.
I took the Ritalin once more, in Junior High. I spent the day freaked out, writing pages and pages about the phonomenon of not knowing if you're awake or dreaming. I waited all day for dream like things to happen and it made me neurotic. My mom found the writings and I went to see a shrink, not the first time, or the last. The shrink didn't think it had anything to do with the ritalin and in hind sight I'm not so sure it did except for the placebo effect of knowing I was on something, something I wanted to not be on. My parents never pressured me to take ritalin again.
My poor mother. She figured my absolute refusal to take ritalin for fear that it would alter who I was, meant that I wouldn't go near the illegal drugs. I'm pretty sure she believe this to be true to this day.
Probably my first drug, and ultimately the hardest to kick was sugar. We poured it on bleached white wonder bread and had sugar sandwiches. We overdosed on it at Christmas, Halloween and especially easter when we recieved a giant basket full of chocolate bunnies, marshmallow peeps, jelly beans and gooey Cadbury Eggs. We'd go through a few gallons of milk, my four brothers and I as it was the only thing that could take the edge off. I remember the shaking and sweating of a sugar over dose. And I remember that when a big glass of milk and some dinner I couldn't wait to load in some more sweet stuff.
Hyperventilation
Another childhood high was lack of oxygen, hyperventilation, auto-affixiation. Spinning in circles to get dizzy had lost it's former charm and a friend introduced me to the wonder of hyperventilating. We'd take fast deep breaths for as long as we could, until we felt dizzy and then we'd breath out as deeply as possible and hold it as long as we could, wrapping our own hands around our throats or having a friend help in that regard. This would cause us to pass out.
It was so strange to be under, seeming to go right into REM sleep, there were definately dreams, and then you'd open your eyes and wonder why you weren't waking up in you bedroom. Why were you waking up in the gym with all the other kids staring at you, your lips tingling. They'd all start speculating and weather or not you were faking and who would go next while you tried to get back in touch with reality. The first question of your lips would be "How long was I out." and the amazing answers was "Thirty seconds." That thirty seconds changed the rythm of the rest of your day. If I had parents knew what we were up to they might not have been so afraid of the dreaded marijuana. Hell, we'd have been better off sparking up a joint.
Ritalin
If I'd put my mind to it I might have been able to enjoy this one. I resisted it. I did not want to take it. The few times I was duped into actually swallowing the little pill I was a zombie. I'd sat at my desk and drool and the teacher was thrilled. I wasn't doing any better at focusing but I wasn't being a distraction. She gave my parents glowing reports of my improved behavior. The other kids were to be told that I was going to the nurse to treat my asthma. When the teacher broke our agreement, yelling, "Why are you so unruly? Did you take your pill today?" I chucked a chair at her head. I hadn't in fact taken my pill.
I took the Ritalin once more, in Junior High. I spent the day freaked out, writing pages and pages about the phonomenon of not knowing if you're awake or dreaming. I waited all day for dream like things to happen and it made me neurotic. My mom found the writings and I went to see a shrink, not the first time, or the last. The shrink didn't think it had anything to do with the ritalin and in hind sight I'm not so sure it did except for the placebo effect of knowing I was on something, something I wanted to not be on. My parents never pressured me to take ritalin again.
My poor mother. She figured my absolute refusal to take ritalin for fear that it would alter who I was, meant that I wouldn't go near the illegal drugs. I'm pretty sure she believe this to be true to this day.
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