Confessions of a 61 year old Dope Fiend

I won’t sugar coat it…I’m a slave to the rock. No matter how hard I want to shake it, I can’t and quite frankly, deep down inside, I don’t really want to. When I hit that pipe, I enter my sanctuary, where all is well and I find stability and peace. You see, I know what to expect when I’m high. It’s when I am sober that I find life complicated and full of bull sh*t. I’ve been a fiend, officially for almost thirty years. I never thought it could happen to me. I never thought I could even be addicted. It took me years to realize or accept that I was even an addict. I realized denial was not a river in Egypt. I smoked a little reefer back in my teenage days. Who didn’t? Even when I went to Vietnam and tried heroin, I still had a sense of control(I thought). I had ambitions, dreams and drive. It was when I can home, and life truly smacked me on my ass that I found my escape also known as my excuse. I left America a boy and came back a man, husband and father. Not only that, but I returned to a new world of liberated black people screaming Black Power, a sexual revolution and had no clue on how I would fit into it. How can I grow up and take advantage of this new world but also be mindful of my current situation? I tried, I swear I did. I was going to be The Man! I had jobs lined up like you wouldn’t believe. I could write my own ticket. Success was at my footsteps. All I had to do was grab it. But to be honest I was scared. Call it self-sabotage…that’s what I do. At the time though I didn’t realize it. You see, when I got my first hit of the rock it was like…..man…I just can’t even describe it. But I can say is it lit up my life. But see its power is that it makes you believe, if only for a little bit, that you have control. I felt I could juggle my work, family and habit. But as success and pressure continued to chase me, the more I continued to chase drugs. Before long I was Mr. Unreliable. First to go was my business partner. He couldn’t take it and I can’t blame him for that. To think back now about what him and I could’ve become is shameful. Next to go was my family. I really wanted to be there for them. I wanted to be the man they wanted me to be. But sh*t, I was scared. Too much pressure. Being high was easier. My women kicked my out. Couldn’t handle my inconsistencies. At least my children didn’t know what I was in the beginning. Now that they are adults, they see me for who I am…a fiend. They still love me, this I tell myself is true, but I know they don’t respect me. How could they when I don’t respect myself. I have realized that they have never met their father. They have only met this shell of a man. They hear stories of this intelligent, charming, wise, and once handsome gentleman who everyone loved and who had enormous potential. At least that legacy lives on. However now and forever I will be that old, wrinkled, dope fiend. People say, “Sober up if not for you then for your kids”. How can I do that if I don’t want to? I know what I am doing is wrong, but I am a creature of habit and that habit is the rock. I believe in my heart I will always be a fiend. I have been for so long that I don’t know how to be anything else. I thank God that I at least picked strong women to raise my kids. I think about them all the time. I wish I could’ve been that father to them, but I don’t even know who I am. So I stand before you half man, half fiend, all real. I can’t wake up. This crack haze is too deep, too cloudy and too comforting. You’d be surprised how many there are like me. You can never envision the old crackhead. You think we either straighten up or die off. In many case we do. But this is my profession. This is what I do. I don’t know how many my tries I have left. My cat lives are running out. At least you will know that my intentions are as genuine as I am. Know that I never stole, never manipulated, never physically hurt another to feed my beast. I have and will continue to lay many emotional scars. These will be felt for many generations in my family. I have left an ever-lasting impact in the lives of my friends and family. But I know that the day I lay to rest will be they day I wake up. God will be my salvation. God will touch and save my soul. But since these earthy ties bind me today, I must return back to my sanctuary. So when you see that shadow lurking in an alley or street corner…..when you see that soul-less creature staring aimlessly on the street….when you hear of that father-less home…you hear about me. But this year will be different. I won’t be that 61-year old dope fiend any more …..I’ll be 62.