I took cocaine from my roommate’s coat pocket my freshman year in high school. She had told me I could have some if I wanted any. Now I am 26. I am haunted by the idea that I took hard drugs when I was only around 15. I also huffed duster with my friends a few times in school. The worst part about these choices is that they were all in an effort to create some sort of image for myself that I imagined others would admire. This is one of the most significant motivations I have, much of the time. Some part of me always fantasizes about being appreciated and loved by others, which served when I was younger as a means by which I could justify doing things that could have gotten me arrested or expelled from school. I’m not sure where young people get the idea that those who use hard drugs are somehow worthy of admiration. Maybe it’s the rush of not being seen or monitored by unwanted authority figures. A subtle way to throw their rejection in their faces. This is a theory I’ve thought about. Doesn’t change how disgusted I am that I did it. I can’t imagine the freedom people have who have never done anything like this.
