Becca and I living together was excatly what I thought it would be. Just one big party, in the beginng anyway.
We were handling our responsibilities, paying rent and bills the way we should but after those were taken care of, everything we had went to drugs and booze. We would spend all of our free time just partying at home inviting anyone and everyone that had something to offer to do the same.
Becca’s boyfriend would come by with his roommate who ALWAYS has drugs and good ones too. We would sit around and get hammered doing lines and partying. I was still hiding my IV usage from people so I would hide out in my room to shoot up and get what I watned.
As a kid (teenager) drinking wasn’t something I did much of as I preferred my drugs but Becca was a big drinker and so I quickly became a big drinker as well. The problem with this was discovered quickly.
I would become this uncontrollable ball of rage when I would drink. Now don’t get me wrong not every time I drank was like this but it didn’t take much to push me over the edge. My mental health issues and alcohol were not compatible at all but just like the drug use that didn’t stop me.
So we would drink and do our drugs and live like there was nothing wrong and on those nights when the alcohol brought my demons to the front lines and I destroyed everything in my path, we would just laugh about it while we cleaned the mess.
We were good at that. Cleaning up the mess like what happened was perfectly normal. No one in our little group ever called anyone else out on the shit they did. We just picked up the peices and carried on.
I will never forget the day Becca came home from work to find Kevin and I fighting. I was hammered and high and losing my fucking mind. Screaming and literally throwing everything out of the cabinets at him. At first, Becca just stood there watching dumbfounded by what she was seeing
As I whipped cups and plates across the house at Kevin Becca finally said something. Not to me to him. She wanted him out. She didn’t care why we were fighting she just knew I had lost my shit and was destroying all of our dishes and she being sober wanted it to stop. So out the door, Kevin went. Becca promised to have me call him when I was calm and sober.
She sat dowm in the mess of broken dishes grabbed the bottle and and pulled a bunch of pills from her purse and as she poured us both a drink and crushed said pills she asked what the hell had happened. I was too fucked up to even remember why I was so pissed and so we just brushed it off got high and cleaned up the mess.
I never did call Kevin that night, I just took a nap sobered up and spent the rest of the night doing drugs. When I would drink too much and get that way I would always not drink for a bit ( a few days or so). I preffered the high over the drunk anyway.
Addictions … started out like magical pets, pocket monsters. They did extraordinary tricks, showed you things you hadn’t seen, were fun. But came, through some gradual dire alchemy, to make decisions for you. Eventually, they were making your most crucial life-decisions. And they were … less intelligent than goldfish.
William Gibson
