Several things happened during my high school drug days that led to this final fall. My personal Holy War had gotten extreme. I was constantly trying to quit drinking and doing drugs, but always went back to it. It was a typical addictive cycle of promises, failure, guilt, and repeat. I remember one of my very close friends telling me that I had changed, that I seemed cold to her. It hurt me deeply when she said that, although I would never admit it.
I felt like my soul was being ripped apart during that time, while sober I felt a strong connection to religion and specifically Jesus, I would read the Bible and actually carried one around with me. Then when I would drink I was told I would rant about my love for Satan. At one point I was told during one of my black outs my eyes turned red and I threw a football player against the wall telling him I was the devil, it freaked some people out I guess. I don’t claim that any of that happened, but I do know that I am extremely inclined toward mediumistic and psychic influence and while intoxicated it wouldn’t surprise me. All this was being exaggerated by other factors, other peoples holy wars and delusions feeding mine.
There was a guy that went to school with us, we weren’t close or anything, but we showed up at the same parties, he dated my neighbor, we talked about Iron Maiden. So I knew him and liked him, in some ways I looked up to him. He was older, good looking, his family was wealthy. So I felt like I was getting popularity boosts anytime he would talk to me. His girlfriend would confide in me that he was troubled and she was concerned about him. I’m not sure why she would tell me. I guess people always told me stuff. Anyway she told me that he would call her up crying saying that “Eddie” was after him. Eddie being the mascot for Iron Maiden. I felt like we were having similar internal battles. In retrospect, I think that to both of us Eddie was our addiction. To me then I thought that he was under attack just as I thought I was.
Soon after she told me this he died in motorcycle accident, I say accident, however we all looked at it as a suicide. He drove straight into a stop sign without a helmet leaving no break marks. Our party scene was devastated. His brother was inconsolable. His death would be added fuel for my own holy war.
I continued to spiral downward from this point, I was dangerous and unpredictable. My old party buddies didn’t party as much as I did so I had new ones. I recruited younger kids to party with, they didn’t seem to judge me as much. I guess I have always liked the role of teacher, even if I was teaching self-destruction.
Our friends death would play a role in a scene that would be one of the final scenes that brought me down. A night that would escalate my holy war to new heights. It all began as a trick that one of my friend's mother wanted to play on her son. She was highly unstable and we all knew it. Yet, I really liked her because she believed my holy war was real and we would talk about it a great deal. She approached me and asked me if I would help her do a mock seance to scare her son. I’m not sure what she was trying to do really, but for whatever reason I agreed.
We set things up and had this very elaborate hoax set up. We had the lights out and going through the motions to call upon our friend that had died. Things got real weird that night, and I’m still not clear of all what happened, I can say that at the crucial point, Doug my Campus Life mentor came bursting through the door trying to get us to stop what we were doing. Someone had told him what we were up to. I felt so conflicted at that moment, I never wanted him to see this side of me. My holy war was full blown and I didn’t feel like I had anyone I could turn to now. Furthermore what I couldn’t tell anyone was I actually felt stuff with our little “fake” seance. For me it turned out to be not so fake after all. I was totally freaked out and so my answer was more drugs and more alcohol.
Then came the showdown between good and evil in my mind. On one of the many days that I skipped school and drove around partying instead, I decided to take my battle to the enemy. I had just turned 18 and had a car full of minors, booze and drugs. We drove to a house that was rumored to have “Satanic” activity, I got out with Bible in hand and began to “exercise the house”. I can’t even imagine what my poor friends thought. I was totally out of my mind, screaming verses of the Bible inside an abandon house, drunk, high and completely absorbed in my insane delusions. The thing is I felt stuff, lots of stuff as I read aloud. Now, of course I know what I was doing was invoking. Turns out I’m pretty good at it, so not something I should have been doing in my very intoxicated and mentally unstable mind.
As we are getting ready to leave this house a truck pulled in and blocked us in. The guy got out and told me to roll down my window. I was convinced he was a “crazy satanist” and wouldn’t. What is so funny about that to me is I was much more the crazy Satanist than he was at that moment. I ranted to him about crazy things going on and I was there to stop it. He of course called the cops.
When the cops got there I tried to drive my car across a ditch to escape and got stuck. A Duke boy I was not! So I got arrested with a list of charges and thrown in a cell wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. I was locked up with some guy that told me he had escaped from work release and was starting his life over when he got in a fight with his brother-in-law. He told me that his brother-in-law was going to turn him and they got in a fight. He then seen an ax at the bottom of the stairs, picked it up and proceeded to kill his brother-in-law with the ax. That's what he told me anyway. I was a freaked out skinny teenager coming off a crazy binge, his story just made the whole thing even stranger. I’ll never forget that night or that guy with his grim reaper tattoo and crazy story.
The charges were later dropped and nothing much came of it other than it playing a crucial role in my downfall. I had disappointed everyone, my friends, my mother and in my eyes my God as well. I had lost the holy war.
Around this time I went to a friend’s house, he was one of my “straight” friends a bit older than me. I knew I was in trouble and was reaching out. He didn’t know what to do, we have since talked about that day. Anyway, he read me bible verses and I left feeling more alone. I didn’t feel like anyone understood what I was going through. I didn’t feel like I could win this battle with evil. This battle with drugs, alcohol, my sexuality. I would lose and I would die.
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