Originally, I was going to make this a short and sweet type post, but after reviewing the story in my head, I realized that I really need to explain my experience thoroughly. Therefore, I’ve decided to make this a series, although I’m not yet sure how many posts it will include.
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Years ago, at the ripe age of 17, I enjoyed marijuana occasionally. (I wasn’t addicted or anything, I just smoked every day, sometimes twice.) I liked it because it made me act silly, and it relieved my stress. (We’ll get to what I was stressed about at a later time.)
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I didn’t really consider it to be a problem, but as my usage rapidly increased, I started to realize that I was turning into someone that I didn’t like. That didn’t stop me from continuing the terrible habit, though, I just gradually slipped further and further into a hole that I couldn’t climb out of.
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After nearly a year of living the “party every night” lifestyle, I was in shambles. Patrick and my relationship was nearly non-existent, despite us living together, and my health was deteriorating quickly. At the time, we didn’t know that living off of one Taco Bell burrito per day would be bad for our bodies. Unfortunately, it was.
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We got evicted from our first apartment, and only paid the rent on our 2nd a couple of times. We were blessed to have a lenient landlord who let us stay for a couple months without paying. That didn’t fix our electricity problem, though. We were in the dark for 2 months.
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We began rarely showering, as the water was too cold, especially since the winter months were approaching. (End of 2005) Neither of us had a job, and we basically lived off of nothing, don’t ask me how. We literally had an extension cord running from our neighbors house just so we could have a lamp plugged in. Somehow, through all of it, we continued to find ways to smoke pot.
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Around Christmas, Patrick and I, one way or another, got some money together to eat a few beef tacos. (You know, that kind that they sell at those Mexican food stands, with the cilantro and raw onions.) They were delicious, and the best meal we had eaten in a long time. We went straight home after eating, and within a few minutes, I thought I was going to die. My throat was on fire, and I had this terrible aching pain in my stomach. I started vomiting like crazy, and even threw up a little blood. We got in the car and drove to the emergency room…
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To Be Continued…
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(Previously, I had made a trip to a hospital in Fort Worth, but after waiting for 12 hours to see a doctor, they told me that the burning in my stomach was nothing, and that I should just take some Tums. Obviously, at that point the pain was a lot less severe, but the antacids still didn’t end up solving my problem. The next time we drove to Dallas, in hopes of getting some real help. You must remember, though, that I was completely uneducated about anything related to the body or disease. I don’t even think I knew what indigestion was, at the time, I just knew that I needed someone or something to fix me.)
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