Wow man…it was just like yesterday. Sitting there on Washington St. the place of my initiation. Me and the crew or the crew and me however you like it…Low playing in the background the sounds of my demise. The sounds of my life. I can’t even tell you how good it felt the first time. When the wave washed over me I just couldn’t move. I was paralyzed. I sat mesmerized by my own thoughts. A mosaic moving from left to right a non-stop painting of life, or maybe just an uninhibited super ego.
I can’t remember the images but they just didn’t stop. I didn’t have to do anything I just sat there and they came flooding in and moving so effortlessly through my mind. It was total bliss. I would open my eyes periodically, light a cigarette, talk to my friend Dave. All I had to do to go back was close my eyes. It would start right where it left off and just keep on going.
I never wanted it to end. I never thought about the repercussions. How can you think of consequences when something feels that good? Much easier to just repress all of those consequences with just a little bit more. Just another day, one more, it won’t hurt a thing. I will stop tomorrow. But tomorrow never comes and the pain just comes back ten fold.
I have written so many posts about how shitty using was and how it will forever fuck up anyone’s life, but this post is about the first time. The time that all the other times were after but never even came close to…
I guess I am just tired. I don’t know where all of these memories are coming from, but I am just doing my best to get them out. Uncover and discover so I can recover.
Not all of my using was bad, but the result was always the same. Desperation, dereliction, disorder and chaos…
I declare this week “Be nice to Aaron week.” For the whole week I am going to be nice to myself and not beat myself up. I am starting to realize when they mean when they say “suffering is optional”.