By Garnet
Letting go of who you are requires letting go of who you used to be. It takes a fragile heart to pick up a bad habit, it takes a strong heart to pick up from where one left off and it takes an even stronger heart to continue.
My family moved to a new apartment in 2010 and I forgot all about my smoking leftovers at my grandma’s place.
I then became the ideal daughter my mom wanted me to be. Not that I changed much, but, what can I say.
I finished secondary school and after a year at home, I gained admission into the university.
It’s true that freedom can be too free sometimes, and I completely agree with this.
I was 18 when i finally moved in to school. I remember that day very well. I felt like a bird that had just been let loose. I was free while with my folks at home so this new feeling of freedom could not have been a good one, but I felt that way.
My first few weeks in school without my mom and siblings was somewhat difficult but I coped, so it didn’t take me long to become accustomed to everything and everyone.
One fateful Wednesday after an annoying day in school, I was strolling to the park to take a taxi home when someone drove up to me and stopped.
He beckoned on me to get into his car and though I was angry and wasn’t in any mood for a conversation, I got in because the sun was crazy hot, had taken its toll on me; the guy, whoever he was, was cute and I needed that solace.
When I got into his car, he introduced himself to me as Stephen and we got talking.
I gave him a brief description of my day and asked that he forgive my disheveled look.
He smiled and offered a trip into town which I obliged.
I was just 18 years old, out of home for the first time and had just had a horrible day in school so I wasn’t thinking.
My first ever real roll of marijuana
I knew this guy was a complete stranger but I didn’t have anything to do at home and anything to take my mind off the day I just had was very welcome.
He took me to his house and offered a drink. (Mind you, besides learning how to smoke, I also learnt how to drink).
We were seeing a movie alongside emptying cans of small stout when Stephen popped the question; “do you smoke?”
At first, I was taken aback but recovered soon enough to give him a brief story of my life.
I told him how I used to smoke the leftovers from my uncle and his friends and out of a box he offered me my first ever real roll.
The good girl in me kicked in but out of nowhere, I reached out and collected it.
Stephen had just offered me my first ever real roll, and taught me how to actually smoke marijuana.
Believe me, I was very nervous. I smoked the leftovers from my uncle and his friends but this was my first time of actually smoking and inhaling cannabis.
Way back, I cooked with marijuana, but there’s a huge difference between having weed in your food, and smoking it.
He gave me a light, and we started burning up. I completely forgot about my day, everything all of a sudden made sense, and I felt like I was on top of the world.
Halfway into my third roll, combined with drinking stout, I felt light headed. The room and everything around was spinning at once, but I wasn’t about to admit that to Stephen.
I managed to keep calm and act like all was well with me. How I managed to achieve that is still a mystery till date.
I and Stephen kept at it until almost dark, then I stood to leave. He dropped me off in front of my gate, took my number and left.
I went up to my room, and for the first time in what seemed like forever there was no one to scold me.
I had dinner, took a shower and picked up a novel to read but found that I couldn’t.
I was lost in thought. The thoughts were coming like a hurricane. Too many thoughts and ideas trying to drown the other one and be the only thing I think of. I didn’t know what to give in to.
The good girl in me wanted me to stop all forms of communications with Stephen.
The adventurous girl in me wanted to try something new, and keep the good girl locked up someplace else. The wild girl in me wanted to feel among and do what the other girls do.
I ended up convincing myself that smoking wasn’t a bad thing, after all women in the Western world smoke. I ended up convincing myself that Nigerians were backward in thinking.
I forgot my mother’s warnings and zillion words of wisdom. I told myself that if she doesn’t know, she wouldn’t get hurt.
So I resolved that I would pick up from where I left off, but I wouldn’t let it be a habit.
Fate can sometimes mess with our mind, it feels like some things that happen are actually meant to be.
I completely forgot that the more I defended my bad habit, the stronger it becomes and the more difficult it is to stop.
Still to be continued
Letting go of who you are requires letting go of who you used to be. It takes a fragile heart to pick up a bad habit, it takes a strong heart to pick up from where one left off and it takes an even stronger heart to continue.
My family moved to a new apartment in 2010 and I forgot all about my smoking leftovers at my grandma’s place.
I then became the ideal daughter my mom wanted me to be. Not that I changed much, but, what can I say.
I finished secondary school and after a year at home, I gained admission into the university.
It’s true that freedom can be too free sometimes, and I completely agree with this.
I was 18 when i finally moved in to school. I remember that day very well. I felt like a bird that had just been let loose. I was free while with my folks at home so this new feeling of freedom could not have been a good one, but I felt that way.
My first few weeks in school without my mom and siblings was somewhat difficult but I coped, so it didn’t take me long to become accustomed to everything and everyone.
One fateful Wednesday after an annoying day in school, I was strolling to the park to take a taxi home when someone drove up to me and stopped.
He beckoned on me to get into his car and though I was angry and wasn’t in any mood for a conversation, I got in because the sun was crazy hot, had taken its toll on me; the guy, whoever he was, was cute and I needed that solace.
When I got into his car, he introduced himself to me as Stephen and we got talking.
I gave him a brief description of my day and asked that he forgive my disheveled look.
He smiled and offered a trip into town which I obliged.
I was just 18 years old, out of home for the first time and had just had a horrible day in school so I wasn’t thinking.
My first ever real roll of marijuana
I knew this guy was a complete stranger but I didn’t have anything to do at home and anything to take my mind off the day I just had was very welcome.
He took me to his house and offered a drink. (Mind you, besides learning how to smoke, I also learnt how to drink).
We were seeing a movie alongside emptying cans of small stout when Stephen popped the question; “do you smoke?”
At first, I was taken aback but recovered soon enough to give him a brief story of my life.
I told him how I used to smoke the leftovers from my uncle and his friends and out of a box he offered me my first ever real roll.
The good girl in me kicked in but out of nowhere, I reached out and collected it.
Stephen had just offered me my first ever real roll, and taught me how to actually smoke marijuana.
Believe me, I was very nervous. I smoked the leftovers from my uncle and his friends but this was my first time of actually smoking and inhaling cannabis.
Way back, I cooked with marijuana, but there’s a huge difference between having weed in your food, and smoking it.
He gave me a light, and we started burning up. I completely forgot about my day, everything all of a sudden made sense, and I felt like I was on top of the world.
Halfway into my third roll, combined with drinking stout, I felt light headed. The room and everything around was spinning at once, but I wasn’t about to admit that to Stephen.
I managed to keep calm and act like all was well with me. How I managed to achieve that is still a mystery till date.
I and Stephen kept at it until almost dark, then I stood to leave. He dropped me off in front of my gate, took my number and left.
I went up to my room, and for the first time in what seemed like forever there was no one to scold me.
I had dinner, took a shower and picked up a novel to read but found that I couldn’t.
I was lost in thought. The thoughts were coming like a hurricane. Too many thoughts and ideas trying to drown the other one and be the only thing I think of. I didn’t know what to give in to.
The good girl in me wanted me to stop all forms of communications with Stephen.
The adventurous girl in me wanted to try something new, and keep the good girl locked up someplace else. The wild girl in me wanted to feel among and do what the other girls do.
I ended up convincing myself that smoking wasn’t a bad thing, after all women in the Western world smoke. I ended up convincing myself that Nigerians were backward in thinking.
I forgot my mother’s warnings and zillion words of wisdom. I told myself that if she doesn’t know, she wouldn’t get hurt.
So I resolved that I would pick up from where I left off, but I wouldn’t let it be a habit.
Fate can sometimes mess with our mind, it feels like some things that happen are actually meant to be.
I completely forgot that the more I defended my bad habit, the stronger it becomes and the more difficult it is to stop.
Still to be continued
0 thoughts on “Diary of a junkie: I’m sinking deeper into the abyss”
Intriguing.. …please continue I beg.. .
That’s sad to read. Post the full article as soon as possible. Waiting anxiously to read the whole. Every one of the ten youngsters now a days are suffering from the same thing.
Great information with well-written stuff. Truly clarifies everything in detail, the article is extremely fascinating and effective
good post
Great post