At this time I am 21, and recently divorced drinking heavily and trying my best to "start over". It was working great. I had a girl named Rachel that was nothing but raw sex, not great, but constant and willing. As well I lived in a wonderfully amazing bachelor pad, and had some great friends to share my new found experiences with. I started smoking pot again regularly and was only a one hit wonder. I would let them pack a bowl and take one hit, and be good. Since my round with harder drugs as a teenager, I had slipped into a "dry" sobriety. My vice was starting to take on a new face. Bourbon. But I was still "drug fee", to myself at least.
Mother and I went to her dentist and got the script and setup and appointment to have the ailing tooth removed in a week. While I had taken pain killers before, I had never really used them for their purpose. This time, I didn't either. I took the first few, in hopes that the pain would subside, and well it didn't. However, I did not care about it, and was fucking high. I took more and more, it had an affect on me like a mellow speed. (the pink colored kind cooked with sudafed) I was loving it. The bottle soon ran out, after 2 days and I had 3 more refills. I filled the second bill of the script, and ate those a little slower, but with the intent to use them and ration them. I would break on in half and, save the other half for the next second hour. This went on for about a month. This was the beginning of my addiction to Vicodin. While its not junk or crank, it was still a high. And I loved it. The tooth was removed, and the script soon ran out. I was now stuck with the realization, that I had to kick something again. This was not pretty. I dumped Rachel, and nearly lost my friends in the process of being an unruly dick, that just had no clue, what it was he was doing.
There are a lot of things that remain unknown to me in that time. I have no idea where my head was. Except stuck in what ever bottle, was my medicine that time. I remember well, a comment Isaac made to me; "hey man, you keep bitching about being broke, but you spend like a hundred bucks a week at the bar. You know, you could just buy it by the bottle and spend less money." Within a month I had at least 20 empty bourbon bottles strewn across my room. I was sleeping 12 hours a day, and taking in anything that I could. I to this day, still do not know what I was hiding from.
This was also the year that I broke my record of no sex. I was coming into a new arrogant state of being, and I knew it. I had been with Alexis for a while, and our sex life had diminished well before out split. Well before. Rachel was my first "after marriage" encounter. Then came Kenya, Amanda, Rose Mary (the virgin, not as pleasant as you might think), Amy, Maris, Shea, Angela, Toni, And some girl that left in the middle of the night. (I to this day do not remember her name). Then I met Amy. A close friend I met through Isaac's new circle named Chuck, was a god for women, and knew almost all the hot, sexy willing women in the area. We were a Palladium dancing and drinking, and it was close to 3a.m. The bar stayed open till 4 on certain nights, if the crowd was there. And we were. He ran over to this little petite, cutie. I was immediately interested. She had brown short swing hair, glasses (im a sucker for glasses) and a very cute body. I asked her name, and Chuckie said "Amy, ill hook you up!" I begged that he didn't as I was a huge gimp. While I managed to sleep with a few girls, it wasn't like I had pursued them. It usually involved someone else, doing what Chuck was offering now. But this was different, she WAS my envisioned Goddess. The woman of my dreams, and lust. The pointing from across the room, and the giddy smile, seemed to go well. And to prove that it did, she did something that would become my coin for the rest of my encounters with women. The had drank herself stupid, and met me at the wall that I was holding up, grabbed me by my face, laid one on me, and told me "..I am not a monster, don't be scared...". With that, we started a very sweet, and long, and difficult relationship. I will not go too terribly long into the details, but she was young, and I was emotionally destroyed, and under developed. It did not end well, and to this day, she still crosses my mind, from time to time.
I was still addicted to pills. By that time, I would take anything that morphed into a sort of opiate feeling. Pain killers, Xanax, Valume, anything. I am sure a lot of people noticed, and well they were experimenting with their own drugs. Isaac did not have the mis adventure of doing drugs as an addict, he was a "user". As were the rest of the clan. I was out, as I would do the "prescription" drugs, or smoke weed, I was still "sober" and not about to put that poison in my system. (HA!) So I was not a part of the bonding and the psychedelic experiences they enjoyed, and felt left out immediately. This turned me to drink more, and find other friends, and outlets. Finding people with the same wounds you share, and scars is pretty easy in this area. As most of the people here, are damaged and riddled with sentimental baggage of some sort. And playing off of each others scars, and wounds, is what Americans do, in order to relate, or feel accepted. The common ground of pain, keeping that fire alive, just so you can have something to stand by and light your way further down the dark path.
Time went on, Amy and I split, I cried I pissed people off. I alienated people that cared I moved 3 times. And still I found myself drunk, and taking medication, on a regular basis. Then came Katherine. What a fucking trip this girl was. Our very first words to each other are famous, to this day still. I was at the Copa and getting myself 40 of my 60 limit of bourbon and coke for the night. I was wearing a T-shirt Isaac had in his closet, that I regularly ganked from. He worked for Hot Topic as a buyers assistant, and got an ass load of clothes that were comp. Some made it, some didn't. This one did not make it. It read "Mary was a whore" thats it. It was black, and the lettering was white. So easily legible in the dark of the club. I turned from getting my cup refilled, and this random short ass hottie, grabs my shirt, pulls me in close and slurs; "what is that supposed to mean?". I honestly had no clue what she was talking about, but she was wearing a plaid-sh skirt, and a white button down that was open a little too far. I don't know if I actually gave a reply that was worth remembering, but we concluded that even though I was in a gay bar, I was not gay, and we were both not looking to get laid. So we made out, and went back to my place, and talked till 7 am. It was great, but I was not officially over Amy, and well I was not really in the place to be "tied" down. She was having none of that, and no one else was either. The gang loved Katherine, and some of them, let me know that if I didn't love her as well, then they would gladly take up the challenge.
In retrospect, I probably should have stayed with my initial feelings, and kept her at friend level. It might have saved her a lot of heart ache. Katherine and I were the best of friends and still are to this day. Our relationship was tainted from the start, but we made a great, gorgeous, smart, funny, well rounded, and freaking goofy baby. That is all that matters in the end. What becomes, and what you leave with. Suffice to say, along with alcohol and pills, women were the biggest and most damaging, of my addictions.
