Sex & Drugs

It was Valentines Day 1969 and I had just survived a horrible car accident the night before. I now had a different perspective on life. Instead of living life with with fears and restraints, I wanted to live life to the fullest. I had been told not to drink, do drugs or have sex before marriage. I had lived by the rules up to this point but things were about to change.

The following week was the first time that I ever had sex. I was almost nineteen years old so this wasn’t so unusual. My new boyfriend’s name was Jimmy. He was twenty five years old and had his own apartment as well as his own business. It was a nice setting and a pleasant experience but no where near the earth shattering experience that I had been led to believe it was worth waiting for. I was also cautious and started taking birth control pills that month.

Around the same time, friends were starting to bring alcohol to my parties. Twenty-one was the legal age in Pennsylvania at the time so we were careful not to get caught. Occasionally, I would get drunk and have a hangover but this was not a regular occurrence. I didn’t really like the taste of any liquors and I hated the way the hangovers felt.

I was introduced to pot and hash but since I had never smoked cigarettes, it felt like a strange thing to be doing. Getting high felt okay but I didn’t think that it was really that great.

As the year progressed I was introduced to a lot more drugs. Most of them in pill form. I tried various amphetamines (speed, uppers), barbiturates (downers), LSD, mescaline, Quaaludes, THC, cocaine, PCP and probably a lot more that I can’t remember. Wonder why? Unfortunately, I liked the way that most of these drugs made me feel. I was either speeding, floating or tripping. I usually kept my drug use for the weekends because I was still responsible enough not to let it interfere with my work.

On New Years Eve I was at a party where friends were shooting up. I had never been around this before and I was curious as well as scared. I decided to give it a try. They were using a combination of morphine and dilaudid. Immediately after doing it, I threw up but then I felt incredible for the next few hours. I hated throwing up so I decided not to do this again.

By January 15, 1970 I was having horrible stomach pains. They were getting worse and worse each day. I finally ended up in the emergency room and was admitted to the hospital for further testing. They checked my appendix, intestines, stomach and female organs but couldn’t find the source of the pain. As a precaution they took me off of my birth control pills. I had an infection somewhere in my system but they couldn’t pinpoint why or how I got it. I knew exactly how I had gotten it but I was afraid of getting in trouble so I kept my mouth shut. Fortunately, it was not hepatitis and aids was not around yet. A strong dose of antibiotics cleared up the infection.

Landing in the hospital was a huge wake-up call for me. Jimi Hendrix and Janice Joplin had both died from drug overdoses towards the end of 1969. I was smart enough to know that I had to stop abusing myself and get my life back on the right track, and I did.