I was born the youngest of four girls. My sisters were all between seven and ten years older than me. My whole childhood, I looked up to them, but I always felt left out. They didn’t necessarily do it on purpose, but because of my age, I just didn’t really belong in the crowds they ran in. To me, I felt like they had like this “sister club” that I couldn’t be part of. But I would follow them around and I would listen to the music they listened to, watch the shows they watched, and use the teenage lingo they used. I wanted so much to be like them…to be acceptable in their circle.
Then came that fateful day. I was in second grade and I was with two of my sisters as they were smoking. If they were doing it, I wanted to do it too. Well, in their poor judgement, they decided to let me join in. In even poorer judgement, what they were sharing with me wasn’t cigarettes. I didn’t know it then, I just knew they said I was cool as they laughed at my antics. And I felt cool because I was doing what they were doing and we were all having fun together, like they did with their friends. I loved this moment because I finally felt like one of them. For me, this was my introduction to the world of smoking weed.
I didn’t do it again for a long time, but it wasn’t for a lack of wanting to. For the most part, I just didn’t know where to get it. But when I got into junior high and high school, where these things are so much easier to access, I knew exactly which kind of kid I wanted to be…what kind of crowd I wanted to be part of. It was the “cool stoner crowd.” My sisters were always surrounded by people and they always seemed to be having such a good time. Unfortunately for me, I was less socially acceptable and awkward. I didn’t really know how to relate to people my own age very well and I didn’t really have many real friends, so it took me a little while to achieve my goal. But not one to give up, I made a few contacts and it all started…little by little. In time, I felt I had it all under control as this new persona offered me an “in” to a few “friends” and, later, entry into a kind of pseudo family…which became very important when two of my sisters passed away within a month of each other.
Now, here I was, 15 years old, feeling very alone. I just lost two of my sisters and the remaining family was in so much pain, they really couldn’t help me with all I was dealing with emotionally. They didn’t even know how to help themselves. Some of my nieces and nephews were being passed around through foster care systems and family members where there was a history of abuse and neglect. I had no real friends at school, so no one even knew what had happened in my life or what I was going through. No one called to check on me or ask if I was okay. And God? I was so angry and bitter toward Him for not saving my sisters that I decided He didn’t even exist. It was like there was this giant, gaping hole in my soul and no one could see it. In my eyes, I felt as if no one even cared and I was completely invisible.
Totally broken and having no real direction, I invented a new me. I decided loving people hurt too much when you lost them, so it was easier not to let anyone in that close. I played tough with a motto of keeping my distance from people so no one could hurt me. I just dabbled in it before, but during these days, my real love relationship with weed began to take root. Smoking pot helped me escape the reality of the hell that was my life…dead sisters, fighting parents, isolation. I could get high and not feel the weight of the reality that was my life. This behavior became my escape pod for many, many years.
If you’ve done drugs, you understand there’s a whole counter-culture that comes along with it. Druggies know one another on sight. They have their own language and their own code of conduct. The people you get high with, become like a cult family. It’s like living on the Island of Misfit Toys. Everyone was so messed up, you just accepted it and moved on.
When people would challenge me about my drug use, I would always say things like, “God made it. It’s all natural. It’s not addictive. It’s better for you than drinking or smoking cigarettes.” These are the same excuses that I’ve heard every other pothead in the universe make! It’s as if it was okay because it was the lesser of so many other evils that I could have chosen. In my eyes, smoking brought me to a “happy place.” Or so I thought. But the problem with escaping reality…it will always find you and, eventually, you’ll have to deal with it.
I smoked and drank and partied for years. I did all kinds of drugs, even the ones I always swore I would never do. I snorted coke, dropped acid, ate ‘shrooms, did a little crystal, and who knows what else. Why would I do all that? Because, over time, the effects of weed begin to dissipate as you build up a tolerance to it. Then, you start seeking out something stronger to help you feel the way weed used to make you feel. Despite it’s lesser affects, weed remained my drug of choice and, thank God, I never got addicted to any of these other substances, but what I DID get addicted to was the lifestyle. I loved feeling like life was a party and I was popular. My life was full of people who never challenged me to do or be anything any more than I already was. It was full of eventful get-togethers, living it up, and seeking fleshly pleasures because everyone knew…it was “better to burn out than to fade away.”
But what were the realities I was ignoring? What was really going on that everyone who wasn’t high could clearly see? My life was a mess. Unlike many of my cohorts, I held a pretty decent job. I had to. I had a little girl right after high school who I had to take care of. Her arrival was my first taste of learning how to care for someone beyond myself. But aside from that, I had an affair and got pregnant, destroying my first marriage; I aborted the evidence of the “mistakes” I made; I took advantage of people for whatever I could get from them. I mismanaged my money and my finances were always spent before my next check could come in. My house was a filthy mess that regularly had the lights or gas or water shut off because I was spending my money on the wrong things. I got remarried and my new husband was just as much of a mess as I was. Together we spiraled downward for years, arguing and fighting and hurting each other all the way. Almost all of the “friends” who were there for the party–the ones I swore I’d grow old with and smoke doobies with on the front porch in our wheelchairs–they weren’t there when the party was over. My parents were losing faith in me; I had no idea how badly I was hurting them. I was losing faith in myself. But the whole time, I just kept thinking that pot was my harmless little coping friend. The reality was, pot was helping me do anything BUT cope with reality.
Then, the time came that I hit rock bottom…and when I say I hit rock bottom, I mean it. My life could not have gotten any worse. I could not have been hurt any more deeply. Prior to this time, I didn’t realize how many people my behavior was affecting. I had no real grasp on the danger I was daily placing myself and my loved ones in. But in one moment, with three words, my life completely crumbled. Those three words I’ll save for another day, but suffice to say, it preceded the moment in which I collapsed on the floor and I finally cried out to God in tears of desperation and admitted that I needed Him. I didn’t understand what was going on inside me at that point, but opening the door to God even that little, tiny bit was enough. He came through right then and He began to do a work in me that I wouldn’t see or understand for months to come…and I’m so thankful He did. I’ve never been the same girl since.
Why am I telling you all this? Well, two reasons, I guess.
First of all, I was raised better. I never planned for all of this. It all just started out of my desire to have fun and feel accepted. Then, slowly, one bad decision piled on top of another and, before I knew it, I was a complete disaster. I know how harmless I believed weed was. Weed is often referred to as a “gateway drug.” What you must understand is it’s not JUST a gateway to other, stronger drugs that you swear you’ll never do, but it’s a gateway to a complete break from reality. On the other side of this life I’ve just shared with you, I’ve had people tell me things that happened or things I did during that time, and I’m completely humiliated. I can’t believe that I would treat people the way I did. I can’t believe the things that people said to me that never registered because I was too fried to catch it. I couldn’t believe the things that people tried to say to me in a kind way that went totally over my head until years later…when I heard it again in my memory and a lightbulb went off and I thought, “Oh my goodness. They were trying to help me. They were trying to tell me something important and I totally missed it.”
Secondly, I share this because there are many people I love dearly who have chosen this same path. Sadly, some may have even been enticed to walk it because of my careless example. Or maybe you don’t know me at all, but some of these things sound painfully familiar. If either of those scenarios are the case, I just want you to know, I’m not judging you with this blog post. I’m not holier than thou. I’ve been where you are and the very last thing I want to do is to sound exactly like everyone who tried to help me when I was immersed in the world of drugs. I really do understand the things you may be feeling as well as the things you may be denying as you read this. I can hear the old me thinking things like, “She’s some sap who couldn’t handle it; I would never do that; she’s a sell-out lame-o.”
But because I’ve been where you are, I pray that you will allow me to help you avoid taking the long, painful road that I did. Or if you’re already on that road, it’s still not too late. There IS hope on the other side of this. There is a way out. There is life left for you to live that is wonderful and amazing. There are people who care very much for you, even some whom you think could never forgive you again. God Himself loves you and He will definitely forgive you no matter what you have done, and all you have to do is ask and mean it in your heart. It’s very likely going to take some work and it will require some adjustments on your end…there will be setbacks and perceived failures along the way…but I assure you, the life that you quit dreaming about…it’s still possible. Don’t give up on it. God created you with purpose. Please, get real with a close family member, seek out a trustworthy pastor, e-mail me…whatever..and .let’s get started on your new life today!
I can say from experience, everything you ever did can be redeemed. You can have the peace and joy and confidence that has previously eluded you. You can be free from addiction, condemnation, feelings of loneliness and insignificance. It’s all available when you’re ready to take hold. Don’t hesitate or waste one more moment of your life. Get started on part two of your story now!
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