Why isn't gazing on a flower, walking in the rain, skidding on a slippery road or standing under a waterfall enough mental or emotional stimulation? Why the need to imbibe, ingest, inject or inhale a toxic substance?
I'm no teetotaller, by any means.
I'm no teetotaller, by any means.
I smoked the occasional cigarette as a teen, bumming them off my few friends who smoked, or sneaking them from my dad's cigarette box on top of the fridge. I liked the feeling of holding it between my fingers, and hovering at my lips before taking a drag. I liked taking a long inhalation (once I got the hang of it anyway), and exhaling with my head upturned blowing the smoke up to the sky. I didn't like the ashy taste on my breath or the feeling of dizziness inevitably brought on after only a few drags. I could never finish a whole cigarette. Pot was similarly wasted on me. I only tried that once, and the almost immediate spinning effect it brought on was discombobulating enough to make me take a pass forever after. The idea, or opportunity, to try harder drugs never occurred to me.
I have had more than my share of embarrassment with alcohol. A surprise 19th birthday party ended badly, after too many Black Russians, and one New Year's Eve my mother called me at a party to wish me a happy new year (obviously, and wisely, to check up on me). I had to take the call from a swirling mattress, with my friends and a plastic bowl by my side. I thought I handled the conversation pretty well:
"Hi Mom. Happy New Year! Yes, I'm having a great time. Everything's fine. Yes, I'm sleeping over at C's house. No, I don't need anything. See you tomorrow!" When I hung up, my friends burst into applause. I keeled over on the bed and vowed never to drink again. That may have lasted a month, and was followed by many (too many) similarly embarrassing and juvenile nights, and a few (too few) foggy memories. But somehow, through luck, some good sense, or simply by grace, I have managed to stay on the healthy side of casual inebriation, visits to the porcelain goddess notwithstanding.
As my kids approach and enter their teen years, I am now consumed by all-too-real fears: what if they drink and drive? what if their friends do? what if they try heroin or crack, just once? This is not a theoretical or abstract thought process. I know friends and family members who have struggled with addictions and substance-abuse. They have hurt themselves and those around them. Some have faced their demons and their rock-bottom selves in the mirror and done the hard work to move forward with their lives, clean and sober, with humility and perseverance, and are now achieving success in life and love. Some are still inching towards health.
But why them, and not me? It's certainly not that I was smarter. I have too many friends that have too many examples of how dumb I've been.
It is naive to think that I can keep my kids from experimenting or over-indulging. I certainly can't point to myself as a model example. They know of my fondness for the fruit of the vine, having seen me indulge with my husband and with my friends on many occasions. I can only hope that the lessons they learn, from school and from us speaking openly with them, will somehow allow them to stay on this side of that precarious edge.
When the song "We are Young", by Fun, comes on the radio while the kids are in the car, I always sing along:
"Hi Mom. Happy New Year! Yes, I'm having a great time. Everything's fine. Yes, I'm sleeping over at C's house. No, I don't need anything. See you tomorrow!" When I hung up, my friends burst into applause. I keeled over on the bed and vowed never to drink again. That may have lasted a month, and was followed by many (too many) similarly embarrassing and juvenile nights, and a few (too few) foggy memories. But somehow, through luck, some good sense, or simply by grace, I have managed to stay on the healthy side of casual inebriation, visits to the porcelain goddess notwithstanding.
As my kids approach and enter their teen years, I am now consumed by all-too-real fears: what if they drink and drive? what if their friends do? what if they try heroin or crack, just once? This is not a theoretical or abstract thought process. I know friends and family members who have struggled with addictions and substance-abuse. They have hurt themselves and those around them. Some have faced their demons and their rock-bottom selves in the mirror and done the hard work to move forward with their lives, clean and sober, with humility and perseverance, and are now achieving success in life and love. Some are still inching towards health.
But why them, and not me? It's certainly not that I was smarter. I have too many friends that have too many examples of how dumb I've been.
It is naive to think that I can keep my kids from experimenting or over-indulging. I certainly can't point to myself as a model example. They know of my fondness for the fruit of the vine, having seen me indulge with my husband and with my friends on many occasions. I can only hope that the lessons they learn, from school and from us speaking openly with them, will somehow allow them to stay on this side of that precarious edge.
When the song "We are Young", by Fun, comes on the radio while the kids are in the car, I always sing along:
So if by the time the bar closes
And you feel like falling down
And you feel like falling down
I'll carry you home
Tonight.
And then I add: if by the time the bar closes you feel like falling down, call me and I will come to pick you up, or take a taxi home, and we'll discuss it in the morning.
And then I add: if by the time the bar closes you feel like falling down, call me and I will come to pick you up, or take a taxi home, and we'll discuss it in the morning.
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