……… and other drugs.
BLAME CANNABIS
Cannabis, my very best friend, oh how I love this plant. Twice it gave me back my life.
The first time I was 15. Scotty and I wagged school together. We should have pulled out almost immediately but we didn’t, we should have never considered at this time but we did.
We shouldn’t have considered it because Fred, my Dad, was home. Little did I know it would be the second last time I would ever see him. We should have pulled out because not five minutes after walking away from school Mr. Melross rode past us on his bike. Me, being me said ‘G’day Mr. Melross.’ Scotty jabbed me in the ribs. Mr Melross turned around and asked us what we were doing, I made some lame excuse and he continued on his way.
Me and Scotty had a quick chat and decided bugger it, we are into this now, let’s finish it.
We just wondered around mostly, went to a few friends place we knew had a chance would be home and hung out. It was cool, it was relaxed, we completely forgot that we were probably in a heap of shit.
About 12pm we ended up in a shed, I call it the shed of lost boys. Scotty and I were two of the younger in the room, ages ranged up to 20 or so, a good mate Paul was also in the room. All of the boys had tough lives, Scotty and I were doing well compared to many of them, it was hard room to be sitting in, in was a sad room to be a participant of.
The bong came out, I knew what this was, it was cannabis. I knew very little about it, drugs in our house were one of many devils we would get a beating for if we only thought about. My father almost kicked his sister out of the house for taking some sleeping medication or something. My father who himself would sit in the shed with his mates and smoke pot.
It just spoke to me, the smell first, it filled my being, all the ways from my toe nails to the hair on the top of my head. Cannabis was speaking to me, it was my language, I knew something special was about to happen. I just watched it move around the room, watched as the boys faces relaxed, everybodty sat back and all tension was slowly removed from the room. As each boy pulled the bong the safety in our space expanded and expanded, it was so beautiful.
It got to me, I was too busy watching this scene in front of me in awe, I did not know what to do. I tried to light it and nothing happened, tried twice more and no result. Scotty, bless his beautiful soul, opened his eyes (he pulled before me), grabbed my thumb, put it on the hole and said ‘there you go buddy, try now’.
It worked, the cannabis started going into my lungs, I pulled and pulled and pulled. Scotty grabbed my thumb and pulled it off the hole, the remaining smoked rushed into my lungs and I burst out coughing them up. Everybody laughed, it was clear I had just broken my virginity. I laughed after about 12 minutes of pain. I sat back, closed my eyes and the most special moment of my life, even to this day occured, I felt free for the very first time. For the very time I felt like a child. Tears are in my eyes right now.
There was talk in the room but it was quiet, we all just sat together, our backgrounds and the terrible in our lives didn’t matter. 15 or so boys sat together in a type of freedom that only this magical substance brought to their lives.
The next day Mr. Melross came and talked to me, I told him I handed in a sick note which Mum wrote. She did too, she just didn’t fill the date because I lied about needing it for a previous illness but forgot when it was.
He followed it up, into the first period after lunch he knocked again on the class door and asked to speak to me.
Before I go further, this moment was one of the worst in my life, my trust in men was hanging on by a thread, my ability to speak to them without mumbling was almost non-existant. I was horribly afraid of all men, including, especially, the one I saw when I looked in the mirror, the one that looked ridiculously like the man I most feared, the man who ruined my life, my Dad.
How to this point no teacher had sat me down and had a chat is beyond me when I reflect back. How they did not see the essence of a young boy being torn apart in front of their eyes I do not understand.
I was an amazing student until the end of year seven. School, the physical stuff was awesome, loved it but the academic stuff was so simple, so ridiculously easy. No matter what was put in front of me I absorbed like honey on an ant’s nest, It was a breeze and I loved it. Mathematics, I could do most of the stuff in my head before the teacher finished reading out the equations, a jet.
By the time this day with Mr. Melross occured I was destroyed, I was not even a shadow of that boy. My studies suffered, my sport suffered, my ability to sit still in any way suffered. God, I was afraid. The photos from when I was little to 15 show my deterioration. I deleted every photo, every memory, the progression to what I became is impossible for me to see without breaking apart, it stays in my head but I only see it when I need to. I break apart because not a single person in my life, adult person, said a word to anyone along the way, nobody asked me if I was okay.
Mr. Melross told me to go to the office, he had called Fred and he was on his way to pick me up. This is the very moment that everything fell completely apart, how he could not see in my face how afraid I became in that very instant I will never know. He did nothing, turned his back and walked away. If ever a boy needed a hug, any support at all that was it.
I walked to the office, sat down, I wanted to bawl my eyes out. I did not.
Fred walked up to the office, he had made himself big, he did his business time walk, fuck I was scared. ‘Come with me boy’.
I sat in the passenger seat, a fishing rod was next to me, at least I knew I was only getting a beating today and not the torture leading up to it. I was comforted by knowing which tool would be used to administer that beating, there was just the one option sitting there rather than three or four. Comforted too by the fact that the fishing rod was actually one of the better options.
We drove around for 20 or so minutes, not a word was a said. Fred had a few spots in my mind around the Colac Lake, the first two were not quiet and isolated enough, the third was perfect.
He stopped the car and got out. I took a massive breath, grabbed the fishing rod, opened the door and walked straight up to him. Tears were falling, I looked him straight in the eye and held the rod in front of myself to give to him.
He didn’t take it, tears came into his eyes and for the very first time he saw what he had done to me, how afraid I was, how the fear was all him. He gave me the first and only hug he ever gave me out of pure love, I cried and cried and cried. He did too.
Through everything I knew at this moment there was a human being in him somewhere, that he wasn’t all terrible, love existed at his core. The moment saved my life, I honestly do not know if I would have made 20 without it. I knew I would be able to keep the promise I made to myself when I was seven, half an hour or so into the torture method he used, I am never going to be anything like you.
I went back to school and went home and everything was fine. The next morning, I kissed my Mum goodbye as I went to school, she kissed me is more accurate, gave my Dad a hug as he was leaving with the truck and did not see him again for seven or so years.
The day Mum finally called it off was literally the best day of my childhood, if you call it that. Never again did I have to fear the truck sitting out the front of the house when I got home from school, never would I be abused and beaten for doing nothing wrong other than what another man decided I did wrong ever again. It was too late however, I had no idea how to be a child by this point, no idea how to be anything other than battered and broken really.
This lasted a long time, I worked hard on my healing to bring some sort of something to my life. I made great progress but it would have taken me life times to reach any point of security in myself. Then, my best buddy returned to my life, my best buddy Cannabis.
I hadn’t smoked for maybe 18 years at this point, there was an incident that involved Paul that put me off cannabis and all drugs. I stopped, and with the exception of two occasions, did not think about them again.
It was cannabis and the dark web that brought me to psychedelics, it was cannabis that brought me to this phenomenal phenomenal tool that gave me back my life. It gave it back to my be removing stuff rather than adding it, it made everything simple, it made it all phenomenally beautiful.
This is a story for another time. I am going to get stoned, so, I suppose, for the story not coming any sooner blame cannabis. But, also, I was already stoned before I started writing it, so, I suppose, blame cannabis for that too.