When I talk about my parents abilities as parents I often say “They taught me how not to raise children” and I often find myself guiding my children through life based on my own experiences. As my children grow I mock there innocence while joking with Ashley, reflecting on where I was at in life at their ages now. I am reminded of my own innocence that was stripped away before it was time. Harper is 7, The first time I smoked cigarettes I was age 7. I caught my step brother smoking a joint. He told me it was a cigarette and made me smoke one. Nasty Newport shorts, same thing my brother smoked in the beginning. Dad smoked camel non filters and they were always a last resort. Very rarely did I have to steal cigarettes, a friend of my grandmother, Gom frequently sold me packs of cigarettes I had told her they were for Gom, they were really for myself. Then there was the neighbor who charged me 30 bucks for a carton of cigarettes, but only Marlboro reds. Anything I wanted was there at my disposal, all I had to do was ask.
There are many constant reminders that by the time I was the same age that my children are now the world had revealed her secrets. I had witnessed everything the world had to offer and would develop negatively because of it all. The influence of it all would mold my young mind forever. Taking on a perverted sense of life and how to conduct myself within it.
Chase is 11 years old, by the time I was 11, I was smoking cigarettes daily, while regularly smoking marijuana. I had multiple local connection for cigarettes. Cartons or single packs. I had dug a secret hole under the floor in the wood shed. Placed a waterproof box inside the compartment and used a road sign over the floor to conceal where I had cut it out and removed the floor to dig, then as every time I used it I would stack the wood back. I had planned it out so the wood over the hole never got used. This would become my stash spot. Money, drugs, playboy magazines and my cigarettes were stored there for years. It was only discovered years later when the building was torn down and the box was still there under the shed. Empty of course…
I would regularly mingle between my brothers crowd of friends and my own. My brothers friends are 5+ years older than I am and as time progressed the circles would intermingle and become one large group. By the time I was 15 my brothers friends had become my friends and I was a welcome member of their circle. Only time would tell, as I aged I became more and more welcome to partake in the activities. With the majority of them being 6 years older than I am, it made for the perfect storm. There were 5 close friends of age to purchase Alchohol , so on any given day I had good odds one of them would buy Alchohol for me and my band of miscreants. I never asked my brother as he would always say no, my parents would always buy, but then they wanted to control it. I would rather acquire it behind their backs and then sneak off to the beach and get into mischief with my circle of friends. My world was an open market, at home where the party never stopped. To the outside world that was only Red Point. Everything was available and I was into it all. Partying on the beach… the tourist didn’t care that I was only 13, I knew how to start and maintain the fire so they would supply me with all the booze I wanted.
If it were drugs I wanted, I would just buy them or steal them from a family member or a friend of. Weed, Coke, and assorted Pills were all available and within my reach. I would wait for the right time and run a pocket or search a drawer. Weed could be purchased from my brother, coke and pills from my step brother. Everything could be stolen from any of them, including mom and dad who both had a secret stash and a shared stash. I could always get away with taking the whole secret stash, I had figured out that no one would question it because they themselves were indeed already lying about having it. If the secret stash was not what I wanted I would trade it away for what I did want. Dad always had pills in the secret stash, pain pills or anxiety meds. In the beginning I did not like or do pills, but others did and they worked as currency for the things I did want. I would often trade the drugs I stole to my brothers friends in return for weed and booze.
My mothers character and instincts implanted through genetics would blossom in the solitude Red Point offered, left to my own devices I came of age in my own way. I was set loose on the world and would try it at every angle. The world in return would teach me every lesson the hard way. I was 15 when I started the 9th grade. I think I attended school for the 9th grade for 3 weeks… First suspension for my behavior at school came quick and dad gave me the option. I could leave school and go to work full time, if I could obtain my G.E.D. That is where I wanted to be, I had worked the whole summer prior to returning to school for the 9th grade. I was considered one of the men and allowed the freedoms that came with such high title. I was done with school, with the people, drama, and all the nonsense. So there I was, done with school and onto manhood…
Or so I thought. As part of the crew of workers that worked for my dad I would cut my teeth and find new friends, new suppliers and a new way of life. Starting here I was pursuing my addiction at warp speed. By the time I was 16 years old everyone in my circle used drugs of one form or another. Some went up, some went down. Some wanted to get fall down drunk while others just wanted to be stoned stupid. For every person there was a vise and for every vise, I had the product. I would supply my entire circle of friends with drugs until there was nothing left of them. The smart ones got out while they still could. Some running to the other side of the country to get away from the drugs and myself. Others held on and crashed and burned with me. The choices I made, that we made and the directions that were taken in life led to many ruined lives through drug sales and drug use. The lifestyle took over and controlled every move I made and everyone I associated with. Every move made revolved around the addiction in the end. Ever changing, ever growing with each decision. Every choice coming with consequence. My circle during active use was always changing, always evolving. New customers showing up and old customers falling into there own self made pits of misery.
Along the way I would destroy every person that became a part of my circle. Suicides and over doses. People moving away or running away. It was all from my abuse of drugs and of life in general. Through the drug use and because I started at such an early age I lost my ability to grow emotionally. Physically and mentally I had grown up, my mind filled with all the poisonous lusts of the world, my large stature and appearance creating misconceptions from those around me. With no structure and no discipline I would spiral out of control. Fits of rage and endless despair led to entitlement and the strong desire to numb my emotions. A defected moral compass only fueled the fire, there was no right or wrong; only who and why. What did they do to me, how could I justify my behavior. Drugs, Alchohol, and women would be the mask to my pain and I didn’t care who was hurt because of my actions. Physical and mental abuses given out in all directions. Back then there was no discrimination because I hated everyone and myself. Trying to drown out my soul I gave misfortune to all parties involved. I had over the course of 7+ years became a low grade example of a human being.
Drug use damaged every relationship I ever had…
It was not until I found my way in recovery that I was able to grasp the damage I created in my wake. A path of destruction lay behind me and mixed into the rubble are the lives that were and still are a part of my story. Coming to terms with the past is a major part of keeping my recovery current. I have to remind myself that those days do not define me now.
We Do Recovery…
From Redpoint to Recovery; The road less traveled 