I had surrendered myself to Adderall and it was eating away at my soul. So during the last half of my junior year of High School I decided just to drink.
I caved.
And I don’t mean that I would just go out on the weekends and get casually get drunk. I mean I decided to really drink. My friend Brody and I had discovered these things called Four Loko sold at the Seven Eleven. They would get us really drunk for $2.41. We would pour the Loko in a glass and chug it in less than a minute, then wait for the alcohol to hit our blood stream. Five minutes later, we were on the threshold between drunk and blackout.
I made fake ID’s in High School. I was that guy. I made a sweet template and then made them for free for my friends so I would have more people to drink with. This only escalated the drinking further. I made the fake ID’s and that made me popular, then I made fake parking passes and ended up getting suspended for two days my junior year of high school.
Shortly thereafter my parents found my laminating machine tucked behind the couch, not to mention the empty bottles and Loko cans covered with blankets. As my junior year was coming to an end, my parents were becoming more and more suspicious with me. I was also starting to visit the drug and alcohol counselor at the school because I was drinking about four times a week and blacking at least one of those times. This went on for the rest of my junior year and, on the last day of school of that year, 2008, my parents really started to notice something.
The evening was a calm one, the weather was warm, and the moon was shining brightly in the night sky. My friend William came over with his girlfriend Kyra and Brody came over with his fling Audrey, who brought her friend Shailene. We hung out in my downstairs room, passing around a bottle of apple Smirnoff. I had a big room all to myself because my brothers were off at college.
We all took pulls and drank Bud Light on the side. Shailene had given me a hand job the week before, and knew I was a virgin. As we got drunker, her friends told me indirectly that she was going to have sex with me. I was enthusiastic, on the upper end of thrilled.
Shailene looked like a cute little bookworm with brown short hair, brown glasses, a huge rack, and a charming little mole on the right side of her cheek. William, a dark haired fellow with a loud voice, snuck out of the room and into the closet with his girlfriend Kyra, a cute Filipino girl. Brody, a blonde-haired, baby-faced man, followed with Audrey, who had nice curves. They went in the closet room to have sex.
Then it was me and Shailene. Like clockwork, we took of our shoes and got onto my bed and started peeling off our clothes as fast as we could—almost as fast as I did when I went streaking, but not quite. Then we were completely naked and she grabbed my pajama python and stuck it in her flesh tuxedo. After a few thrusts she said, “You’re not a virgin anymore.” We both giggled, we were whistling with love. A few minutes later I exhausted myself on her. I was electric, so we went for another around. I lasted much longer this time and, as I was finishing up, William came in and we went outside in our briefs and smoked a cigarette to celebrate.
He was happy for me and we both looked at the moon and laughed. When we finished our savages—that was our code name was for cigs—we went back inside. All six of us were drunk and in our underwear. Then Kyra started making out with Audrey. William and I were in heaven.
We didn’t know what was going on, then someone suggested we trade girls. We were optimistic to say the least. That did not end up happening, but I wanted to have sex again, so Shay and I climbed back in bed. Apparently my dad caught William, Brody, and the girls in the hallway because he burst through the door as I was inside Shailene. She disengaged from me and I was half on top of her propped up with one arm. Then I waved my other arm at my dad and yelled, “Go away dad, I am having sex!”
Then Shay and I tried to start going at it again, but I had gotten whisky dick all the sudden. My dad was getting mad outside and William told my dad, “We all have been drinking, I will get these girls out of here.”
William handled the fuck out of the situation. Anyhow, the girls left and we all went to bed. The next morning, Brody was gone, so William and I decided to go celebrate at Quiznos because that was the ritual. My mom was mad at me; I could see it in her eyes. Luckily, my dad was at work, but my mom later confiscated all my alcohol, which she found behind the couch.
Things were starting to get tense between the parents and me.
And I was beginning to feel like I was hitting rock bottom from all the drinks I was consuming. Lokos, beer—the lady at Seven Eleven knew me by name.
I’ve never wanted to brag—that’s not what I’m doing here—but the binges of being blotto, infused with Adderall, kept me alive as an organism. Adderall forced the rational thoughts that seeped out of me, yet I lost my brains in that Adderall alcohol duo. Alcohol counteracted the alcohol and I busted into myself, but a synthetic version of myself, with drooping and soggy neurons.
The Cogmed helped me gain my brains back, allowed me to think crisply again. But when I gained the knowledge back into my bubbling brain, I poured the alcohol in. It was a constant battle, going in and out of focus because the strict structure of today’s world has me distracted. Combined with slipping memory, I turned into a walking metaphor.