Backstory

Having been unofficially exiled to the upstairs of the Catastrophe--it's House-Full-O'-Thugs Night, as the Roy Jones fight is on pay per view--I'm left with a laptop, the Nextel Cup race, "Oklahoma!" on Turner Classic Movies, and a great deal of time. So--preparatory to some upcoming musings on my hardcore days-- I offer this bit of history.



From December of 1994 til December of 1999, I was a heroin addict. On December 30th 1999, I took my last shot and I have been clean ever since; by December of this year, I hope to be off methadone completely. In October of 1995, I lost JP--my fiance' and best friend--when he got a shot of contaminated heroin. He was the one who introduced me to it, and there are those who would blame him for that, but I am not among them; I was 24 years old, already married and divorced, self-supporting for the most part. I was a grown woman, able to make my own decisions, and when he said to me Baby, you gotta try this, I only hesitated for a moment. I'd lived a sheltered life, where I had to ask for permission to do anything; I wanted to see.



Well, I did. And I don't regret it. The only thing that I would change if I could would be the outcome--JP would be alive and still with me--but I'm also not stupid enough to think that I would be where I am if he HAD lived. Sophia always said it was hard for couples to get sober together, and she would know--she lost her man because he got straight and she didn't. I wouldn't have wanted JP and I to end like that...though I don't think we would have, because we were far too much alike. If one of us got sober, we would have dragged the other behind; more likely, though, we each would have talked the other back into the fold...in the end, that's just what happened, really. The only way it could have ended was if both of us got sober--unlikely--or with one or both of us dead. And that's just how it -did- end. My only regret, and it's a regret that has receded since my life has started to improve, was that it was him and not me...I always felt that he had way more talent and potential than I had. I'll tell you this: JP wouldn't be in a dead-end job just trying to keep his head above water, doing almost nothing that meant anything to him. He'd be playing music, taking over the world somewhere. I believe that, and I also believe he would have been as horrified as I am by the turn the world has taken. The jocks and assholes have reclaimed their supremacy, after a brief time when the misfits ruled; Kurt Cobain spins in his grave while Courtney dates movie stars and makes a fool of herself in the endless search for publicity. That's what we've come to, and it sickens me; and JP would have hated it too.



He's better off, really; I know he is; I'm just feeling sorry for myself.