2004-07-19 - 10:34 p.m.
I cannot stand the drug world. I hate the people in it and I hate that it�s so accessible. People exchange anything and everything for drugs. There are no holds barred when it comes to getting drugs. Everything is in demand, so everything is a fair trade. Usage of cell phones, usage of automobiles, sex, food, stolen goods, electronics equipment, it doesn�t matter, cuz drug pushers are people too and so they use things and products and goods and services just like everyone else in the world. So you can trade anything necessary and tangible for drugs.
I constantly and vigilantly have attempted to fight a war on drugs of my very own. I�ve tried the drugs to try to figure out what the excitement and intrigue was all about. I was curious myself. However, I�m not an addict, so once I tried the drugs, I couldn�t for the life of me imagine why anyone would want to spend money or exchange anything at all that mattered to them for a feeling that invades your whole personal being and takes away every feeling, thought and working brain cell in its path once it leaves your body. There are so many drugs out there. And they are all pure wastes of time, money, humanity, talent, and peace of mind. There are drugs that make people die, drugs that help people kill. There are drugs that make you itch, sweat, want sex, sleep, dream, hallucinate, hate, commit crimes, and commit suicide. There are talented people in the world who have nothing to show of value for themselves no matter how hard they actually work, no matter how high and financially independent their paychecks seem to be, because in the end, they are only working for the drugs.
They owe money, they burn up checking accounts, they withdraw delinquent funds, they go into debt just to escape and be high and satisfied when in the end, their satisfaction is short-lived compared to the regret and illness and trouble that follows.
There are all ages of users out there, all colors, both sexes, many walks of life. They are daughters, mothers, sisters, brothers, friends, husbands, wives, sons, uncles, aunts, lovers, bosses, fathers. And they are good daughters, good mothers, lovers, sons, etc. And they are all over the place. There has to be someone somewhere that knows an addict, but they might not know it all the way yet. Cuz they hide, conceal, fake it so that they are not caught and stopped and kept from the drugs. They don�t want to get high, but at the same time they don�t want to be kept from the high and they don�t want to lose their high. Once they are caught or bound or confined or depleted of their supply, it gets even harder for them.
There aren�t enough law enforcement agencies in the world to keep drugs out of people�s systems. There aren�t enough hospitals in the world to rehabilitate the ALL of the sick and diseased who have addictions and alcoholisms. There aren�t enough FBI agents to destroy all the drug products that people are continually cooking up on an hourly basis to keep the vicious circle of drugs going. There aren�t enough people who care about users cuz when users use, things are ugly.
Users that are in the throes of addiction are ugly and useless and they lie and the cheat. They disregard and disrespect the very people who love them and honor them and wish them well. Even worse, they don�t want to do what they do. They might want to do it at first and even for awhile, many years, quite possibly. They might have fun while on drugs, it might feel very good and it might be worth every penny. Then, it gets old. Sometimes quicker for others. But many people can�t stay �quitted� and they will die somehow and many will die without feeling any love from anybody.
It�s almost useless to love an addict. Why do I still bother to fight my little useless war on drugs? Because I have tasted the grain of salt that is hope. Hope on the head of a pin. I know he�s not a complete addict. There has to be some bone or nerve or cell in his body that wants to be free of addictions and drugs and alcohol. Some iota of matter on him that wants to stay well and function correctly in society and feel pure love and natural highs like peace and serenity and pride and determination and success and promise. There has to be some part of his brain that wants to love himself and stop throwing his heart and lungs and liver away to decay and carelessness. There has to be some bit of dreams in his sleep state that shows him a better way, a promising, satisfying, drug-free future of taking children to school and meeting their teachers with dignity knowing that he is a good parent because he provides for his family and he cares about his life and himself cuz he is drug-free. Any dream at all. Satisfaction and pride in work, owning something of value, owning his own business, a house, a truck, a motorcycle. Working hard and having successful things to show for it. Having trust and reliance from others and most of all love and respect and enjoyment from companionship.
There has to be some courage within his being to want to tell the drug addicts and dealers that know him and seek him out that NO, he has better things to do with his life and his time and he has responsibilities, and ideals and morals, and drugs don�t fit into those responsibilities and future ideals and family morals, so no, he isn�t going to buy drugs with them. He isn�t going to pay for drugs and support their own habits. No, he isn�t going to take from his family and his own health and self and continue to do things that are NOT for the good of his life. He is going to say no now and be free of the stress and humiliation and lowness that drugs bring.
I wish I knew the dealers� names and last names and addresses so I could turn them all in. I wish I could put an end to everything, throw water on all of the product, dilute it all and flush it all away into the sewers of death. I wish I could fix everything. But I can�t fix anything. I can�t fix him. I talk, I beg, I lecture, I give ultimatums, I threaten, I give rewards, I give my life, my time, my sex, my mouth, my arms, my legs�nothing works. Nothing changes his mind. Not for good anyway. Nothing works forever. It might work for a day, or an hour. But it doesn�t STAY working. I talk about everything, the possibilities of the future, the excitement of sex, the love of the children. Nothing phases him or catches his ears. Nothing does what drugs can do. I am fighting a losing battle. My mind is sad with the loss. My heart aches and breaks with the defeat. Why can�t I be enough? Why can�t I be the addiction? Why can�t his family keep him happy and high?
He�s sick, that�s why. He�s drowning in addictions. He has to get well. He has to take action for him and get well and be well. He has to surround himself with friends that are well. He has to go to places that he can be well at. Before he can be a lover, a friend, a father, a daddy, a professional craftsman, he has to be well. To do anything, he has to be well. He cannot take care of himself and his life while he is addicted and sick. He has to be well so that he can survive. He has to be well so that he can love. And I have to remember that.
