It is really crazy how someone mentioning something will trigger thoughts…I was at my home group tonight and someone mentioned something about pot and I was instantly catapulted back to when I was in ninth grade…
I was really struggling, a complete mamma’s boy, but I desperately wanted to be liked. The teachers liked me, parents liked me, but my peers just couldn’t stand me. There was one kid in school that told me this gum he had had cocaine in it and it would really make you speed. Like an idiot I totally believed him and even though I had a good idea he was full of it I still thought the gum had cocaine in it.
One day this kid told me he would sell me a four dollar bag of weed. I didn’t have any money on me so I couldn’t get it that day but I told him I would bring it in the next day. He agreed and I went home that night and took four dollars in quarters from my mothers quarter coffee cans. Like me, my mother saved money in all sorts of different places the quarters were just one source I’m sure and one I exploited regularly.
The next day I went into school and we did the deal. I was psyched. I had some weed and I was going to go home and smoke it. I realized when he gave it to me that it seemed pretty wet and didn’t much look like pot, but what the hell did I know. I got home that night and tried to dry it out by putting it in the microwave. Needing papers and still not sure if the stuff was real I went next door to talk with Rick or Roland to see what they would say.
I went over and asked Rick for some papers. He asked me if I had any weed and I was like “Yea!” I showed him the bag and he was like “Dude that isn’t weed.” I was pissed but I didn’t let that stop me I asked him for the papers anyway and proceeded back to my house to roll up some joints and smoke them. At that point I knew the shit was fake but I just didn’t want to accept it.
My mother found the weed in my coat pocket and threw it down the sink. I told her the shit was fake but she didn’t believe me. She wondered how I could have done this to her. Curses.
What is really funny about this story is that not much has changed. I am still so stubborn and unmovable when it comes to being wrong. I hate it when I think someone has one upped me and get out of my way if you fuck with my pride. I was hurt when he sold me the fake weed. Why could he have just given me real shit? Why did he have to fuck with me? I have asked similar questions over and over throughout my life but it all started when I was a kid.
Kids are pretty much assholes. Yes they can be loving and cute but the ones I grew up with were hateful and vicious. So is it wrong for me to think that about adults in my life today especially if I start to see similar patterns? Is it so wrong to think that people are not out for my best interest? Sure some of them are and they are great but there is a good lot of people that are struggling so much themselves that they will do anything to make someone else suffer just like them.
Ahh maybe that isn’t true. Maybe I am being paranoid, but the reality of my situation is the past definitely hurts, sure it’s funny, but it still hurts. I am grateful to be able to see the connections of this story and my personality today.
It’s a work in progress…