I do some of my best writing at four in the morning when I wake up and I am laying there thinking and trying to go back to sleep. The sad reality is, I don’t get my lazy ass out of bed and put it down and then of course by the time I am up and moving most of my prophetic greatness is but a memory.
One thing that actually has stuck with me is, in a very short time I will have outlived two of my ex-husbands. There were points in my life when I would have rejoiced over this-but now I just think it’s incredibly sad.
Sad, that someone would waste their life trashing their body to the point that it just gave up.
I will be the first to tell you that I abused the hell out of my body and my brain with more drugs than I can remember, and yes, one day I will copy the list I made to give to the University Medical School, so they will be aware, because I am donating my body when I die. But It came to the point that honestly, just wasn’t fun anymore. I still loved to smoke pot, and I think I’m more creative and funnier than hell when I am smoking pot, but I had to give it up. I had smoked cigarettes and weed since I was 15. Sporadically at first and by the time I was 16-daily. And finally when I was 45 I finished what I had and walked away from it and never looked back.
I don’t understand the weakness in people who can’t just stop and be done with it. I guess I am lucky in the sense that I have always been stronger than anything that could have taken me down.
When I moved back to Rolla from Texas in 1985, I had a serious cocaine problem. I would sit there and plan out my future and I knew what I wanted and then do a few (several) lines and by the next morning, I was a complete mess of babbling uncertainty. Of course that was in addition to the cigarettes and the weed and then there was the ecstasy-one of the finest drugs out there at the time. I KNEW if I didn’t get out of Texas I was going to end up dead and at the very least was going to lose my children. The guy I was dating at the time (the kids dad and I were separated at first and then divorced-but he was still in the picture messing with my already messed up head) was a drug dealer-so it was, one of those anything I wanted was free things. Not a good thing. He would weigh out something on his triple beams and I would clean up whatever he spilled. I have a huge hole where my septum used to be. The best thing I could do was to get the hell out of there.
Of course I moved to Columbia with the kids Dad and “tried it again” that was a total failure and I gave it a whole month. One of my friends from Texas came to visit and brought the old boyfriend with her and holy mother of God-my head was like a Merry-Go-Round. And of course the Kids’ Dad was up to his usual tricks of getting completely drunk and wrecking vehicles-it was time to take the kids and to bail-I called my parents and they moved us back to Rolla.
I asked if we could live with them-I had no job and two little kids. It was easier for them to move us into one of their rental apartments (one bedroom). Well, friends from Texas and the old boyfriend were frequent visitors. He always brought me a quarter pound of weed to get me by until the next visit. Until the time he came up on a bus and told me he thought the DEA was following him and he has hidden an ounce of coke and my weed in the drop ceiling of the bathroom at the bus station. I went nuts. “What the fuck do you mean? You called me and had me come and get you?-Are you CRAZY?” I took him back to the bus station where he retrieved his “product” and caught the next bus back to Texas and I never saw him again. Every time he would call I would hang up.
This is just part of the story, of course-The time I spent with him in Texas was completely dangerous-but my Ex-husband had taken the kids and I had no idea where they were and looking back I’m pretty sure I was on a one way track to hell.
I’ll get into this later-but I think the moral of this story is. The Ex husband never did pull his head out of his ass and continued to abuse his body and mind (and everyone around him) with drugs and alcohol and now he is on life support at the age of 58 and my children (who made it through their childhood and are both quite successful in their own right) are being faced with some of the hardest decisions of their lives-all for a worthless piece of shit who couldn’t put down the alcohol/drugs/cigarettes and walk away.
Another chapter of my life is coming to an end-and on this one I have to say thank God. He was a major pain in my ass the entire time I was trying to raise the kids and while he had influence on them-none of it was positive. Still, I hope he finds the peace in the afterlife that he couldn’t find here on earth.