If you’re familiar with most American churches, then you know what P.K. stands for - Preachers’ kid! *Nods* That was me. Still is, technically, I suppose. Either way these are usually the children /teenagers that are prayed for most often, because they are the ones most often in trouble! I lived up to all of those expectations, too. Luckily I outgrew the rebellion stage, as most of us do, but out of my experience I not only learned a great amount, I have this captivating story! *Winks* Here goes nothing folks.
I was “born again” for as long as I can remember - well, at least I thought I was. I had recited the sinners prayer several times, and helped lead other wayward children along as they recited it, and for the longest time I was the ideal good child, and my parents were proud. I was at church every Sunday morning and every Wednesday night, I said all my prayers before going to bed, and I cleaned my room and only fought with my brothers occasionally (It was always them that started it though! *Grins*) This was all before those terrible teens... and I have a 3 year old, I know the how awful the “terrible-twos” can be, and the teenage years are definitely worse!
So it began, at the tender age of twelve, I met my first “bad influence”. I’ll call her Kirstin, just because I've always liked that
name. Now Kirstin wasn’t really a wicked child, she just wasn’t raised properly and had learned to ignore her conscious pretty well. Her mother was a smoker, of menthols, no less, and if you’ve ever smoked, you know that a flavored cigarette is a lot more tempting than a non! So as we were getting dolled up one day she starts smoking like she had been doing it for years, and I just kind of stare at her dumb-founded. Kirstin looked at me like I was an unworthy peon and handed me a cigarette. I still haven’t been able to quit.
You hear of gateway drugs? It’s true - one does lead to another, and I started at the bottom of the totem pole. I went from Kirstin and cigarettes to Renee and pot, and I would never have even considered smoking pot if it weren’t for that first cigarette. Renee and I met at another public school, same place I had met Kirstin but in a different district.
Renee was a bit of an under-dog, I tend to be attracted to them. Anyway the first bowl I smoked wasn’t just pot, it was laced with angel dust too. I didn’t know this until after, but I didn't mind since it had such a charming name. (Har har!) But it was such a nice high, and I noticed my poetry was a lot more colorfully written when I was stoned, and hence the epic began.
Gate two! “Well,” I thought to myself, “I’ve done pot and angel dust, and that's the bomb, so why stop now? Let’s see what else there is out there...” Hello alcohol! Whaaaaaat you say? Beer is legal, and even Jesus drank wine! Uh huh. Right. First of all, he had a single glass along with his huge meal, and daily, meaning he never, ever got so much as a buzz. Nice try though. Now beer being legal just means it’s cheap and easy to get, it doesn’t mean it’s safe. By this time I was around thirteen and looking fine, so beer was easy to get if Renee and I simply dressed up and waltzed into a college party, or frat house, so that was no problem. Hear this - I never did anything as irresponsible or out of character on any drugs as I did when I was drunk - never. My bitter ex boyfriends will testify to that, too. |
