Benches, pills and crashing bottles

Time: 2005
Place: RTD Bus Station, Boulder CO

One of the times I ran away from home at around 15 years old or so I was sleeping on this bench and I woke up to the sound of glass shattering on the pavement. A stumbling crew of homeless were walking by throwing their empty beer glasses in the air, bursting out in laughter and drunken cheer as the glass came crashing down. This moment is so clear in my memory, I can vividly remember how the air smelled that night. 

How my memory recalls it... After getting bolted awake I looked up at the big red numbers up above me and it was somewhere around 3am. I reached in my coat pocket where my metal pipe was, pulled it out, loaded it, hit it. I carried a red Altoid can with me everywhere I went, one of the cinnamon flavor ones. There was never any mints in it, just an array of pills, I popped two of the white ones. As I waited for those to kick in I continued to hit the pipe, holding my hits in, feeling a little more numb with my current reality with every exhale. I didn’t realize until later in life that this isn’t something that’s usually part of a kids high school career.

I’m so damn grateful for my parents unconditional love for me, I truly put them through so much worry and hell back then. I’m grateful every day for a roof over my head, but I’m also humbled knowing that all my gratitude would mean nothing if I decided to use again. 

For anyone out there struggling to get clean, or struggling to stay clean, this is my personal invite to you to message me anytime any day and I will talk to you! You’re never alone.