Rollin’ Rollin’ Rollin’

Last night I was searching on the internet for the correct spelling of a drug (for those of you that don’t know, I moonlight as a medical transcriptionist) and I came across a message board with references to rolling, taking a bean, and pre- and post-loading with herbal supplements. Upon further reading, I realized it was a message board about taking ecstasy and how to get the most out of it. And there I sat, a 41-year-old female barefoot at my desk at home in New Jersey at 8:30 in the evening on a Thursday night suddenly wishing I had tried it just once. Rolling.

Never having really delved into the big bad world of drugs, other than the one or two non-inhaling Bill-Clinton-like experiences or popping the occasional Percocet that wasn’t prescribed to me, I wondered how my life would have been different if I had.  I know many people with a past history in that that big bad world, hardcore addicts and recreational users, and I see them now and their lives seem just fine - great, in fact. They live in lush tropical lands. They have children and wives and productive jobs. They are beautiful as supermodels.

And there I sat, a 41-year-old female barefoot at my desk at home in New Jersey at 8:30 in the evening on a Thursday night suddenly wondering.

I wondered if this was just another rite of passage I had missed out on, growing up in the small safe world that I did? Would I appreciate my life that much more, had I had that battle or another to overcome? If it is our experiences that form us, what happens when we lack those experiences? Or is it simply just that some people float and flitter through life, smelling the flowers, tasting the nectar, while others trudge through it like it is one big snow drift after another?

"Actually I don't remember being born, it must have happened during one of my black outs."
~Jim Morrison

(Note: I do not in any way advocate drug use nor am I attempting to glamorize it. I have seen first-hand the damage it can do.)