OMG!

This morning I casually sauntered up the stairs to inhale my first cancer stick. From the corner of my right eye I caught something strangely familiar yet plainly unusual.  ”OMG!”  I said it out loud and I didn’t abbreviate it–I’m over 30.  ”Oh my God, white stuff!”

As I smoked my cigarette I looked at the 1/2 inch of white stuff that fell and felt a sense of horrified delight . . . or would that be delightful horror?  Let’s go with the first one.

My Backyard in Minnesota

It was this time of year last year that I relapsed.  The white stuff reminds me of the other white stuff I used to snort up my nose and shoot into my veins.

I reminisce–fondly I might add–about sequestering myself indoors for the winter while I shot up into oblivion. I have euphoric recall about getting the stuff, using it and all that ensued.

To borrow a line from Poe Ballantine’s “Meth for Dummies”, I felt “immortal and indestructible.”

People, places and things–very specific ones–light up the big screen of my mind. I fantasize briefly about reliving them and then remind myself where that will lead.

So, you can see, I’m not out of the woods yet.  I have been high every winter since 2006.  There’s just something about this time of year.  That’s why I’m talking about it–getting it out–letting it see the light of day.