Mondays suck and I wish today would end Hey guys,

Hope your Monday is a lot better than mine has been. I was awake early this morning, but that wasn't too bad because this week is my flex week and I can come in/leave earlier than normal. Next week is going to suck, but that is okay.

For the sake of the people I call friends, I will omit the real names and utilize false names in the following explanation of what happened a couple of weekends ago that got me really upset and sick.

To start off, I need to give a little background info about myself. From the time that I lived in Raleigh until the time I left my ex-husband, I had been involved with the darker side of life and nearly lived off of E and Snow and whatever else I was able to lay my hands on. I never shot up, but inhaled or swallowed a variety of narcotics. Then I saw my life start going in a downhill spiral and watched it affect my job and personal life. I made a decision to quit, and have since been clean for 4.5 years. (go me!!) I have chosen to put a distance between myself and the crowd that participates in the parties of Hell. I do have a few friends that still use, but they respect me and my decision, and stay clean around me out of respect. And I respect/appreciate them for that.

With the last guy that I had started talking to, I had informed him of all this, and he was cool with it all. A lot of his friends seem to be partiers, so I just wanted to make sure that he was clear on everything. And I thought we were. Well, a couple of weekends ago, we ended up at a friend's house with a few other guys, and things seemed to be cool. Then the shit hit the fan, so to speak. I went in the house to check on one of the boys and he was in a near coma. I got my roommate, and the rest of the kids, and we were gonna head back to the house and let Mr. Ral sleep it all off. In the five minutes that I went to go put my shorts on (I had on speedos and didn't care to walk around Wilmington in only that), Mr Ral had thrown up twice and I could hear him gurgling through it trying to breathe. That kicked me and my roommate into overdrive and start trying to take care of him. Our first thought was "this is due to the hydrocodone he had taken and he was having a bad reaction". When the "host" was asked how much was taken, he stated 2mg...and, oh, btw, he also had a bump. That was not what I wanted to hear. I was enraged at the calmness, and almost give-a-shit attitude; and this was not something that sat well with me. Both me and my roommate had watched people die from overdoses, so we are not so non-chalant when it comes to these "recreational" drugs.

On the ride back to my friend's house, we got into a discussion about the drugs and my past involvement with it all. I got really upset with his attitude and his explanation about our host that sounded a lot more like a defence than an explanation. Mr Ral really should have been taken to the hospital and had his stomach pumped, among other things. Fortunately for him, he recovered fine and didn't remember much that had happened in the first two hours of throwing up. But I didn't like the attitude that all the guys were having of "he will learn from this...all he needs a realization to get him to stop". It also takes having a head on your shoulders, and the responsibility of everyone else around to monitor the activities. If you are going to play, then play responsibly.

I have a feeling that if this had happened to me or my roommate, my friend would have had a different attitude. But since it wasn't us, the nonchalance irritated me to no end. And my roommate was not very happy either. I was supposed to attend a function that Saturday night, but decided to go run/walk first to try to kill a little of my anger so I could attempt to rest. Fat good that did me. Every time I thought back on all of it, I got even more upset. I couldn't hang around people that did this, and didn't seem to care what happened. I had to return the following day to the host's house to bring something back to him; we had a discussion about the previous day and he asked me about my strong feelings on it. I explained it all too him...he didn't care. No apology that I had to go through it, no apology for his not doing more to make sure that Mr Ral was okay. It was like he didn't even care...such a typical attitude for a dealer.

I stopped things with my friend and explained to him that I could not be around that. It wasn't fair to me, and I shouldn't have to be placed in that position again. I had felt disrespected by all of them. I know that might sound a little selfish, but does an alcoholic's friends drink around him when they know that he is going through recovery? My friend has talked about how he wants to stop partying all the time, and wants to chill out and get away from it; he stated that I was a good reason to stop it. But he isn't ready to stop cold turkey. He has to be willing to do it for himself, and he might lose friends, but I don't see how he could do worse. It sucks that he never knew that it would cause him to lose something dear to him. Maybe now he will think twice about it all. I will still remain friends with him, but as long as the host and the rest of the party crew he is so close friends with are around, I don't see much happening.

I feel better after writing this down, although it still hurts me seeing someone have to go through all this. But maybe this reality check will help him out and make better decisions.

Song: Wynonna "I want to know what love is"  ¶ 6/20/2005 10:21:00 AM