Beginnings

I was a teenaged drug addict living in a cozy white suburban community. My parents weren't rich, but most of my pals came from affluent families, and their parents were too caught up in their own lives to really pay attention to ours. It was the ideal setup for druggies; we'd go to school, skip class, get high in the parking lot, gather in hordes for more of the same during lunch and after school. We lived in Evergreen, a smallish mountain town 30 miles outside of Denver, cut off from the big city by a range of foothills that gave us small-town security while our parents reaped the financial results of working in a major urban center like Denver. It was a big small-town, with all the benefits of being a suburb and the illusion that it had none of the problems. To the people in authority... the cops, our teachers, our parents... the problems were invisible . To us, they didn't seem like problems. We didn't seem like problems. But we were. And we did alot of damage.And we had some fun.This, then, is my life. Or to be more precise, my stories. A memoir of what it was like to be a drug addict in a town where there was no supervision and no consequences. And how, through it all, I managed to survive, often only by sheer dumb luck.Enjoy the stories, and remember, they are all true.