Now I’m a normie, but I’m a “seasoned” normie. I have more familiarization with drug use because of my kid than I wish to. My druthers are I would like to be able to press the rewind button and be able to not choose my daughter getting involved in drugs, involved in that ‘world,’ and in being a recovering addict. Where was that button, because I would have gladly chosen un-enlightenment.
Yesterday, walking the dog, I notice junk on the ground next to my car (mine’s the one with the cute, little car cover). Ick ... what is that stuff ... someone had a little party here I’m thinking, ‘cuz it’s a plastic shopping bag with beer cans (empty of course). Well, they were picky little buggers, I decide, because each tall can is an individual brand name beer.
Ummmm ... closer though, I notice the tiny, tiny plastic packet, now also empty, a pen casing separate from its contents, erghhhhhh … these things are familiar to me as signs of meth use.
Already I am imagining what this looked like last night. Hushed tones; excessive, meaningless talk; I wondered what the mix of beer and meth does. Does it heighten the high or is it to help with sleep, another sign of meth use (can’t sleep or excessive sleeping). My world of words change, the jargon of drugs spins in my mind, and I imagine icky, scary people: bad teeth, bad skin, messy-haired people, dark, and dirty. I conjure up that their messy hair is to hide their horns but dismiss the image because that made-up picture is too innocent for this. Scary. What happens in that dark world happened here, right here. I feel so violated.
I look around the day’s goings-on and notice the familiar maintenance guy for my apartment complex and point out the things to him. I decide that’s what you are supposed to do. I even tell him I know there’s nothing that can be done about it, but “I wanted to show you just in case.” (Just in case of what?) He and I discuss it a bit and he says “Yeah, you wish you could do more.”
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