Why am I boring you with this shit? Just wait, can you smell an analogy coming?
Anyway. Last week my whole face blew up. Lymph nodes swollen, can’t breath for shit, throat felt like shit, eyes burning and a sweet headache. I know, we’re all thinking, Bitch, you got Corona?
But while I couldn’t taste much except that everything tasted like shit, I wasn’t running a fever or totally exhausted besides my system battling the Cheno-fuck-pods, so I text my best friend, and was like what the hell? It was the pods….
I got off work, and went to the store to get everything I needed. I already took Claritin but I needed shit for my eyes, nose and throat. So I went hunting down the allergy medication isle, which was picked over. Apparently this really was a thing down here. But with this damn virus, of course you go down that isle and you’re a plague carrier. Everyone books it out of your way even if they’re in the same isle for the same shit… Chances. I could be the reaper. Who the fuck knows.
So I got eye drops, I knew how to use those from wearing contacts but I had yet to explore nasal spray and throat spray that was supposed to relieve and numb it out. I take that back, I’d used nasal spray once. But not for allergy purposes… Now you can see where this going.
So I stocked up, got my shit and got home, laying my new spread of fix it out on the bathroom counter.
I started with the eye drops, fine, next the throat shit. I was putting off the nasal spray. Now my aim sucks and I’m getting old so reading the little writing of where to spray the shit and how much was like deciphering some sort of code. Once in desired place every two hours. Cool, but how the fuck was I supposed to get that shit in the back of my throat? So I jammed the pump in my mouth, sprayed, missed, got the whole inside of my mouth, bad idea, pulled it out further and shot the back of my throat, kind of… I have bad aim and can’t pull out far enough apparently, good thing I’m not a dude, just saying… Anyway, it tasted like shit, so my crazy ass starts gaging, heaving, it running out of my mouth and all over the sink, that gross cherry red color and “flavor” and I couldn’t tell if it had been the 15 seconds you were supposed to let it sit in the desired, (or not so desired), area. I just started to hack and spit the shit out trying not to puke, and then, it happened, my whole mouth and lips went numb… that was unique. Actually it wasn’t. And on came the flashbacks… I hadn’t had a numb face since my days of doing gargantuan amounts of blow. I tried to shake it and go in for the nasal spray. Now I hadn’t put shit up my nose in over 9 years so I wasn’t thrilled about this. But fuck it, my face was already numb so might as well go in for the full immersion.
Of course I couldn’t get the plastic off of it. This thing was wrapped like a biohazardous material would be. My nails and scissors weren’t working so I went for the straight razor my friend in Seattle gave me when I moved as a parting gift. That worked. So add that to my bathroom counter line up.
I tried to read the instructions. I couldn’t remember from the one time I used one of these things if I had to inhale while spraying and push my other nostril closed. Yep. Great. So in I went. Jam the shit up, inhale, snort, hork it back. I started coughing, my hands over my face going, “goddamn it, fuck, son of a bitch, man”, half bent over, bumping into the bathroom door, which jolted me back forward into the bathroom counter. I looked in the mirror. My eyes were looking crazy; the one side of my nose was running and my mouth hanging half open from being numb. And then the drip hit… And it was then that the multitude of bathrooms I’d snorted a multitude of lines of cocaine in went through my head as if they all were being projected on my bathroom mirror. Fuck it, I still had to finish the job. Next nostril. Maybe I’d get this one right. Weird. I didn’t have any problem, shit went right up there and automatic drip. Now this was some homeopathic shit and due to my bad sense of taste it had a weird remnant of the flavor of a good cocaine drip. Which, is fucking disgusting still. But when your aim is for a good high, it’s what you’re going for. I can’t describe it, it’s foul, it makes you gag, yell some shit and if it doesn’t taste or smell like gasoline, that means you’ve gotten some good shit. This was that clean but godforsaken taste of a good cut. Columbian. I looked in the mirror again, and then gaging on the drip, swearing, sat my ass on the floor, going what the fuck?
I was having goddamn flashbacks of blow over allergy medication. I distinctly remembered the only other time I used nasal spray. A chic I used with had handed me a bottle of it on my rooftop in Hell’s Kitchen telling me it was laced with blow. I thought this was genius. Granted I’d never used that kind of contraption for snorting drugs, but I was already high as fuck and don’t know how I figured it out, but I did. Hence not remembering how to with the allergy medication. I just know I went in for the kill and sprayed and horked the shit back like there was no tomorrow figuring the shit was watered down. Logical thinking, right? Yeah. No. So I ended up doing the back and forth face grabbing and swearing dance like with the allergy medication and asked, (well, yelled), what the fuck?! I was informed that she had dumped an 8 ball in there. Now that’s a lot of cocaine for that little receptacle… I cursed her up and down and told her ass that she had to take as big of a pull as I did because I wasn’t going to be that high solo. So she did. The next thing I vaguely remember is realizing I was in Weehawken, New Jersey; scaring the shit out of a delivery boy dropping me off more booze and cigarettes by telling him I’d give him the large wad of money in my hand if he told me where the fuck I was. After I was informed I remember yelling fuck, grabbing the bag of supplies that accompany heavy narcotic use, throwing the money at him and slamming the door and asking the bitch why the hell we were in goddamned, fucking New Jersey. I was at her house. Whoops. Luckily she was high enough she didn’t care. The whole story in more detail is in my last book. That was my last dealings with nasal spray so you can see my hesitation. And I just didn’t want to put shit up my nose after not for over 9 years.
I didn’t think I’d get flashbacks or junkie thinking. When I realized I could breathe but my face was still numb, I sat there wondering if I did it right because other than being able to breathe I didn’t feel anything and should I hit it again? Mother fucker man, there it was. I put the fucking shit up my nose and back came that thought pattern, rip it and rip it again.
I got myself out of the bathroom laughing at my dumbass. So this was my life now? This is the dumbass fall out from me being a dumbass drug addict, I couldn’t take allergy medications without flashbacks of different bathrooms and rooftops I’d done drugs in and thinking I had to keep doing the shit. Dear fucking god. I was really cool… Not. I was a fucking idiot and a laughable one. If there were a camera in there for my allergy line up extravaganza I’d be banking on YouTube, that shit had to look insane.
My best friend and I had a good laugh about it, I had to send the, “dude, you won’t believe this stupid shit”, message followed up by well, now I have something to write about. Don’t do drugs, you’ll have flashbacks later when trying to rid yourself of allergy symptoms and feel like a fucking asshole.
I mean really, how dumb is that shit? And that’s why kids, doing drugs is bad. You can’t do simple things almost a decade later that might have similarities because you’ll have flashback and repeat mental behavior of being an addict….
I did have to go back and clean up my mess. It did look like a drug scene. I mean razors, red shit splattered everywhere, spit, tipped over bottles and wadded up toilet paper. That’s a bad drug day. So I put the caps on shit, shoved it to the back of the vanity and put the straight razor away. Laughed again at my dumb ass and then realized that there was even more of a severity to using on how long that shit could haunt you. More than I thought. Fuck, I couldn’t take shit to breathe without this shit happening, and that desire for more, then the non-hatred for the drip… Now, this is dangerous because it triggered that junkie side of my brain. It woke it back up. I was ready to repeatedly spray more of that shit up my nose because I remembered the feeling and waited for the high, when it didn’t come, I thought about doing more.
Plus we’re in weird times, if there was a time to fall off, well, we’re kind of set up for that. Hell, for me I’d spent the last week fucked up in my head of regrets and loss. If I didn’t have a strong enough will and the stubbornness of a mule, I’d be going out and scoring possibly. And then I’d be dead. That’s common in addicts. You clean up, and if you relapse, you do the same amount of shit your body was used to handling previously, but can’t anymore. Then boom, dead. How do I know this? I’ve had friends that it happened to and it’s common knowledge in the community of derelict drug users.
But I wasn’t about to let my addict brain take over, not even in weird times and my fucked up stage of over thinking and regrets of the past, take me down. And no bullshit, the thought of scoring never crossed my mind. The fact that it brought back mental patterns and gave me flashbacks freaked me the fuck out. The flashbacks, those memories, those old chestnuts, the mental programming of it. That it was still there.
So again. Drugs are bad. Your day to day life will never be the same and you’ll act like a fucking psycho spraying nasal spray up your nose in the future once you’re clean, which is just one example. I also can’t have mirrors sitting flat on something for décor; they have to be hanging on walls. The fallout never really ends. Oh beautiful self-discovery and the never-ending exploration of the mind and the horse shit it can drudge up. You learn something new everyday, right? I learned I still think like an addict and I really, really don’t like things that remind me of it. Weird. (Insert sarcasm).
Now I have used the non-narcotic spray again, and the throat numbing spray, (my aim is getting better, so if I grow dick I guess I’ll be a little better at aiming and pulling out…) yet the thought of I should hit it again with the nasal spray kicks in every single time. It pisses me off once the few seconds of questioning fade and I just see it for what it is and am thankful I’m not blowing my money on a powder that will eventually kill me, accompanied by the head shake that goes with being an idiot and a mild, heh.
But, I’ll take it. If I never did drugs I wouldn’t be able to help people get off them, not saying you should go get a habit to help people, (I’m, just explaining the flip side of it for me), and able to share my experiences with others in the same boat. And share these little nuggets like I have today. That it never ends, the addiction mentality, so there’s a fucking good reason not to start, but also good reasons to quit because it’s better to have a few shitty moments of flashbacks and resurfacing mental patterns than to keep actually doing it, which will just kill your quality of life, or you, eventually. And also what to expect after you do have these mental occurrences once clean. To not let the shit trigger you back into using. They’re just thoughts, some more heavy than others, but they all fade. Trust me. I’ve experienced many and they all have, no matter the frequency, intensity or duration of time they last. So the nasal spray and throat number and I will have to be pals until the relentless Keurig of Nature stops shitting out foul pod dust into the air. And I’ll just roll with the mental programming for what it is, a connection that triggers two unrelated substances together because of physical sensations and how they’re used and that’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. Just a connection. But not one that will take me down. Just one I’ll ride out and one that may fade out over time. We’ll find out.
That’s all I’ve got. Now I’m going to go spray that heinous shit up my nose so I can breath. Fucking Chenopods…
Until Next Time…