Chapter II: Drugs- Part I...of IV
As the age of five turned into six and six into seven my brain began to shift in a direction my family was not keen on seeing it move towards. Homework was irrelevant now, despite it providing an opportunity for much needed approval. Friendships were cumbersome and seemingly useless. Even the stray dog I'd begged my parents to let us bring home held little value to me. Teachers complained I didn't give a shit, and truth was I didn't.
I knew even at the age of six that I was more intelligent than the average twenty three year old moron who'd graduated from college and only became a teacher because they didn't find a spouse while doing keg stands at Chi Omega rush week. One of my patron saints and the man I wish I'd been able to know in real life before he left us once said
"Weird behavior is natural in smart children, like curiosity is to a kitten.-HST"
But, we all know, no one likes a smart kid.
It did not take long for my mother to drag me to nearly every shrink and neurologist around Atlanta, and it took even less time for EVERY single one of those physicians to see what the actual problem was. My mother was crazy. I was not. She was embracing the, and note this is a direct fucking quote from her, "better parenting through pharmaceuticals" method of raising her child. A great bit for an open mic routine, sure. It was a decent one liner, you could argue it might even grab a gaggle in the chemo unit at a kids hospital. However, this joke of hers didn't change the fact that nearly every doctor she took me through could see right through and knew there was nothing actually wrong with me. This answer, despite being reality, was completely unacceptable to her.
So, we went doctor shopping until she could find one who would give her the answers she wanted. After months of therapists, neuroimagings, and missed school days my mother finally got what she wanted- a diagnosis of her liking. ADHD.
Rue meet speed. Speed meet Rue.
After formal introductions and the shortest onboarding time I've ever experienced in my life, all of about 40 minutes to be exact, I turned into exactly what you think a child on speed would be like a hyena that had just railed an 8 ball.
Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk. talk, talk, talk, starrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, stareeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, maybe a little more talking..stareeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
It became apparent quickly that speed wasn't a good drug for me, I mean after all, I was the product a schizo borderline and her lawyer husband. I probably don't have the best genetics to be doing drugs in the first place, but oh well, we're too many thousands of dollars and several OD's past changing that now!
What do you do when your children (who you are drugging so they'll be less weird) has a bad reaction to a drug?
Well, you up the dose of course.
That's right, you heard me clear as fucking day.
Up. The. Dose.
What's the worst thing that could happen by giving your 6 year old the highest legal dosage of a stimulant daily when their neurochemistry doesn't require it?
Here's a list of things that WILL NOT HAPPEN:
Your child will NOT:
Perform better in school
Like you more
Tolerate your abusive parenting
Make more friends
Ever stop talking
That concludes the list of things that will NOT HAPPEN when you put your child on a ridiculously high dose of stimulants when they do not need them.
Here is a list of things that WILL HAPPEN:
Your child will:
Have wildly erratic behavior
Distrust every teacher, parent or authority figure they encounter
Become neurologically dependent on drugs
As you can imagine it did not take long for me to destabilize psychologically and for reality to shift into something it wasn't. Shadows became people that I could interact with. Fractals began appearing within my line of sight anytime I looked to the sky. Stars weren't stars anymore. They were cracks in the universe itself and anytime I would look into the night sky long enough they would connect and the sky itself would fall to earth, revealing nothing but a stark white reality upon the other side. I was always too afraid to stare into the blankness of the universe. I didn't realize as a child that one day that very emptiness, that very blankness, would be the thing to awaken me. Regardless, to put it simply, by this time in my childhood I was loosing it.
Pretty fucking impressive if you ask me. Most people don't go crazy until there 25, maybe even 26 years old. I'd beat everyone to the finish line by 20 years. While I was living in the insanity I hated it, looking back now I just feel accomplished. Many human beings fear becoming or being atypical. Fear of the unknowns, the instability, the insanity in life in general is fairly healthy and can keep you alive, keep your feet on the ground, keep you moving forward.
But what fun is a life without a few zig zags and frac outs?
What fun is existence without having your brain force you into thumbing through the threads of the various dimensions to find the one where you actually belong?
What fun is being alive without being able to see the cracks in the shattered ceiling of the universe?
What fun is there to be found in being unaware?
6 turned to 7. 7 turned 8. The drugs increased, as did the instability. My grip on reality faded more and more as each year passed and as each drug was onboarded, offboarded etc. Imagine, you're a 6 year old child with an absentee father due to the financial demands of the household, a truly crazy mother who's borderline personality shifted hourly sometimes, and like any child born to boomers all you want is acceptance, affection and approval.
No sacrifice to attain those things was too much. No lack of boundaries pushing anything too far. Nothing. You're 6 years old and only want to be loved by the only parents you have. They hand you pills, you take them. No matter what those pills take from you. Little did I realize the drugs were about to take reality out from under my very feet.
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