The Easy Way Out
Nov 28, 2004

It's been said more than once that all of us have contemplated suicide at one time or another. Perhaps that is true, but I would never know. I have never, ever contemplated suicide and my life has not exactly been a bed of roses, unless you count sleeping on the thorns.

To be frank, I've been sexually molested at the confusing age of thirteen (I say confusing because I knew about sex but I definitely wasn't ready for any of the experience when I became a much older man's toy), I was never in the cool crowd, I got picked on by a bully and all her friends in the sixth and seventh grade who made my life outside and at school hell (in grade school I was just shy and quiet and in high school I was an 'other' not cool, not dorky, just there and able to make friends among all the cliques, but only keeping a few close), I went through an anxiety attack of enormous proportions (and had a hard time convincing the therapist that I had absolutely no suicidal tendencies--I couldn't stress enough that I was SCARED of death idiot and want to knock on their head to see if there really was anything in there with the capability of listening to me), then I lost my first love whom I'd dated for two years, my anchor during the anxiety attack, I've never been rich or even moderately well off, I had my son before marriage and never married the guy before everything fell apart (not to mention being emotionally abused in the setting we ended up in before I left after a year of it) and now I'm living, scraping by, in a small one bedroom apartment with a cousin of mine who is also a single mom. When put all in a line like that, my hard ships sound like a breeze, but they weren't easy and they weren't the only ones, just the major ones.

Am I the only one here that has not contemplated suicide? Not even in as much as pondering just how sorry they'd be if I died. Well, it doesn't matter. So I'm the only one, but I really don't think I am. They'd like everyone to believe that everyone has done illegal drugs or abused drugs in some fashion at one point or another. I know I'm not the only one who hates the taste of alcohol, I know others who hate how it tastes and won't drink it at all either. I tried a cigarette, once, when I was about seven and only because my six-year-old friend gave me one and I thought "Mommy smokes these all the time so they must be good" It wasn't good and I've hated them since. I threw that one to the ground and stomped all over it in disgust as I coughed. I'm afraid that's where my drug stories end (although I do take medicine as needed and I do drink caffeinated products) but I have never had the desire or curiosity to give marjuana the time of day, let alone cocaine, crack and whatever. I know many others who have also never tried so much as marijuana.

So, what brought on this train of thought? I almost kind of wonder if drugs don't make us think this way? I know quite often they do, but perhaps there's a connection between the everyone that contemplates suicide and the everyone that has tried or done drugs? Certaintly there are those who have contemplated, even gone through with suicide that have never done drugs...

This past week I found out some awfully upsetting news. I knew he was addicted to drugs and liked alcohol just a little too much, but I didn't realize how bad it really was. My favourite cousin. We used to be so inseparable that one could call us twins instead of cousins. We went on adventures the like of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry fin have never seen and they are my fondest memories. But as he began to get into the drug scene, I think this must have been the start of it (then I didn't know why), we began to drift apart as he became another person entirely (it was harder to keep tabs on him anyway since we lived two hours apart by then). Now, he's in rehab from Cocaine and crack along with some other drugs. I cried when I found out he'd attempted suicide. He sold all of his parents' things right out from under them (and some of my mom's too), I'm sure all of his things went too. When confronted about the theft, he said he had to go get something from upstairs or summat before they took him to get the stuff back. He was up there just a little too long so my Uncle, with a bad feeling, went to check on him and found him attempting suicide, he ran and locked himself in the bathroom to finish the job and my Uncle broke down the door to get him out.

How much can you stress to people that drugs will ruin their life? Possibly ruining others' too? Is being cool for a moment or two in life worth all that? In the end, those who can't stop end up looking like major low lifes, jerks, and very uncool for a long time, and they are even less cool then than those who just say no thanks to begin with. I've never felt peer pressure nor the desire to fit in with someone else's idea of cool if it doesn't jive with me, but let me tell you. I have a cousin who almost lost his life to drugs and is a mess because of them, someone I went to school with lost his mind and was on the "fifth floor" for awhile because of them, and my brother is in prison because of them. Indirectly on the last, but it's true. If you've read the other stuff on my brother, you would know that he got in trouble because he left with the murderer and had a record. My brother never would have left with the murderer if he'd been sober and most especially, marijuana free that night. His record had him worried that if they caught him there, he'd be back in jail for the marijuana in his system and the alcohol he consumed underage. If he'd not had either of those in his system, he would have stayed and as a result, he wouldn't be in prison right now. He's been in jail before, btw, for possession and dealing marijuana, he'd be in prison for that too if he was old enough when they caught him. But, there are some that have to learn for themselves I guess. My most fervent prayer is that, being close to them, Michael can learn from them instead of going down that road himself.

I hate drugs.