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'The Suicide Drug'

“The strangle hold of Addiction”

Special thanks to :

Rainy and Jeanine and a few other friends for the inspirations and ideas.

Editors Note:

A friend of mine came up to me and suggested that I write my views on addiction, I was not sure about it, but what she had suggested struck a cord in my brain as my mind dove head first into the many different aspects of that idea. There is no way I could possibly accurately define the meaning behind addictions, but what I can do is outline my personal views on the matter.

“I made a horrible mistake that night, An experience that I was lucky enough to survive. It was a night I will have to live with for the rest of my life. I was naive and foolish as shot after shot of vodka poured down my lips, popping Somas like they were candy. A powerful muscle relaxer, and as the liquor flowed the night progressed down a dark alley, remembering only bits and pieces of it now like a haunting nightmare a friend had recited the horror for me. The amount of barbiturates I had ingested, the shocking realization that I was over dosing as the hot and cold flashes crept over me. I can clearly remember feeling small as if I was fading and the room was growing. Even after my experience that night I was still ingesting Somas a drug that would surely be the death of me and I am ashamed, for there are far better drugs out there to kill yourself with. The Irony behind it all is I am no longer depressed or even suicidal. I could be judged a million different ways to purgatory or worse to hell, but I need not explain myself to anyone, as ultimately I only answer to myself, my own divinity.

Journal Entries January to February 2008

I can hear my mind, begging for silence the thoughts tormenting my very existence to quiet them I take two somas and smoke a joint, even now as I take a slow drag from this makeshift cigarette the voices become just whispers the thoughts and images now appear distant. I am now officially 'high' and soon the pills will kick in. Ushering in a new level to my suicidal addiction. This herb does make it slightly difficult to write on account of the short term memory loss, yet allows my thoughts to slow long enough for me to expel them onto paper. Suffering from Genetic tremors a gift from my mom, my biggest fear would be losing the ability to write, yet without drugs my mother can barley sign her own name a grim prediction to my own future. Will my future die, before my legacy?”

Addiction, by any rationality is a drug in itself, the obsessive desire to get the 'high', 'rush' or even the 'low' or mellowed feeling. Addiction cannot be pinned to just drugs, is it more dangerous than a person who has a dire fixation to buy things with money they do not even have, pushing aside their cut off notice on their power bill? Or the gambling man who spends his daughter's college fund on a hand of cards that when played out leaves him pondering a way to double down.

We all suffer from an addiction, we can all try and run from that addiction, or turn a blind eye thinking we can remain in control. Knowing full well there is no such thing as real control. Is it then when you have reached that stage in your life when your mind confronts the manifestation of your addictions can you learn to tame it? Those who have suppressed it longer, those who have refused to face their demons in the night are often the ones who fall so deep into their drug they throw all rationality out the window. Firm in their mind they are fine. We all have our trials and tribulations we must face, for some the addiction becomes so bad no mythological hell could compare to the pain when a man goes through withdrawals. Addiction could very well be man's greatest of all flaws, rivaling even that of man's uncontrollable emotional outbursts. Addiction is also the hardest mental struggle of all to treat, As there is no miracle cure to your poison. Only a vigorous series of treatments where nothing is cured and only a 50 50 chance of it helping to maintain or keep your habit in check. The old saying however is true though only those who really want to be free from their vice will travel that extra inch, those are the fighters who will scratch and claw their way back up.

I will not hide the truth, as narcotics has been the poster child for addiction and with good reason while shoplifting may induce chemicals into your brain a side effect often studied, narcotics cut past the middle man, as the foreign chemicals react with your brain most carry with them the added bonus of a dependence, far greater than if your own brain released those chemicals. Understanding such a small detail about addiction in itself can help thousands of people who walk around hiding behind masks, illusions of what he wants them to think yet past his flesh and bones he is only human, with the same characteristics, same flaws. Addiction, starts of all places within your very mind and if left unchecked not even in so much as a single glance the mental obsession could quickly manifest itself into a physical crutch, From there most of you are aware of those people, they are the faces you see on the anti-drug commercials, your friends who go to alcoholics annoyances groups, These are the poor souls who have lost their battle with the suicide drug known as addiction.

We plaster their faces for the world to see. Sharing their heart wrenching tails to anyone who will listen. Their voice blasting over the big screen television, condemning what it is they have became obsessed about. Screaming for some kind of regulation against that vice, It's only when we as humans stand up and address an epidemic rationally, will we ever see man's true empathy or sympathy towards man. When we stop pointing the blame towards the vice and instead start looking towards the man and his obessive problem. His chemical imbalance. It may just not be for him.

“I must make light on the madness that infects my mind. Horrible images, backwater thoughts. A sane man would scream insanities. My one true regret in life would probably be the time I so callously tossed about my soul. There may not be a god in the heavens or a devil in the hells, there just might be a god within us all. I feel deep down there is more to this life than what meets the eye, a more complex code to this universe, our small planet among the titans of the heavens.”

Journal Entries March 2008

“Its a scary thought to want to travel down the path of destruction. The need to drown myself in a drug induced coma might actually be a defense trigger for when my mind starts manifesting the most disturbing thoughts and images a sane man could not cope with. Then quickly shrugging them off as if it were a feather caught in the wind. What of those really depraved thoughts and feelings? The kind that can truly manifest nightmares in a monk's sleep. Fire. Hell and brimstone they mockingly tease me with. Yet what of morality, valor, and honesty? Virtues, long forgotten by today's day and age. Are we really truly a brutal species were we kill and maim for pure sport? Can we as a people on this planet called earth ever truly coexist? We will destroy ourselves if we do no learn tolerance, or compassion. In a world of first impressions, judgments without questions, we as human beings are killing our mothers, our fathers and our children. We need to grow and mature, we need to relearn responsibility”