I've been hearing so many sad stories about people from my hometown. Suicide and rape have made appearances in these stories but the most prominent has been crack. I've heard of old friends whom I've lost touch with being "casual" crack users if that's possible. My good friend Gord recently had a visit from Keith, his best friend from grade 7 and beyond high school. Keith whipped out a crack pipe and started smoking it like it was normal behaviour and in Gord's apartment. Keith is a witty, attractive, together guy from a good family. What the fuck is he doing? I guess it's not news to me that he thinks he's invincible, he's always had a healthy ego. I'm just floored that he'd be so stupid. I guess he wasn't paying attention when Nathan died from a heroin overdose. Needless to say, Keith's visit was a kick in the chest for us. I haven't seen Keith for 5 years but I'm tempted to kick down his door and let him know he's breaking our hearts.My best friend Kate also had a recent visit from an old classmate. Alice showed up on Kate's doorstep strung out on crack, dressed in rags with nowhere to go. Kate hadn't seen her in years and didn't think Alice would even know where she lived. I guess someone had pointed it out to her once and it turned out to be the only safe place she could go. Alice had been wandering the streets for hours in flimsy torn rags in the freezing cold after being tossed out of her last crash place. Kate gave her some new clothes and a warm place to stay until she could catch the next bus home. Hopefully her family hasn't given up on her. She had recently finished a six month stay in rehab that obviously wasn't long enough.
Hearing this shit makes me want to visit these people and do what I can to help them through it. Alice and I never really knew each other well but I still want to do something to help. She also mentioned another of our old friends who may or may not have a crack problem. I've asked my Dad about her since he's mentioned seeing her recently. He said she looked healthy and was doing well at her new job. I have hope that Alice was misinformed.
It's sad enough seeing strangers down and out. It's even harder when you knew them before they fell apart.
3 comments:
Wow. What's your hometown? Palookaville? That's so very sad.
I've only had one or two drug related casualties. One friend fried his brain on some kind of halucinogen, moved back home and committed suicide months later. Another had a history of heroin abuse. Came home, supposedly clean about 7 years ago and never woke up at his parents on New Years day.
Two bright, awesome guys - lives cut short by god knows what.
Hope you're enjoying the holidays
p
Yep, when you're 8 hours from anywhere you tend to look for extreme ways to pass the time. There are countless sad stories where I come from and my town's only in it's 60's. I guess the North of 55 dynamic gets ya.
I lied. My hometown celebrates it's 50th year in existence this year.
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