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Dangers of getting in with the wrong crowd

Updated on February 21, 2013
"...A Guiding Light..."     But a light that will never go out???
"...A Guiding Light..." But a light that will never go out??? | Source


This Hub is concerned with how getting into the wrong crowd can lead to a life of crime and drug taking. This Hub reveals a brief history of factors that lead to finding the wrong crowd. For instance not being able to pick your own school can set you off on the wrong road. Distance and cost was the only concern for the upbringers (Mum and Grandma) whilst Dad was pushed out of the decision making process by brow beating the child to not say anything.

The antics that went on in the wrong groups are largely covered contributing to the length of the piece. From how a bad start leads to a poor finish, and reverse psychology was somehow instrumental. The group was divided into whether this person should stay or go, mainly the females voiced this disatisfaction with persons presence, whilst the males expressed a wish for him to stay. Little was realised at the time of the real reason that the males expressed this view. It had nothing to do with 'like' but more to do with the comedy that was created from the resulting hatred and rejections.

The Hub continues with how this led to further low self esteem. And perpetuated a neediness that in the lack of an ability to break free led to continuing contact with unsavoury people that would have been better left alone. And are now!

In this Hub previously called "Why I found it wiser to avoid drugs". Some tips on working to come off are given for those who wish to. But this is brief. Really this hub is about how

perception is the mother of all reaction or ab-reaction. And not feeling good enough for some-one lead to her feeling rejected when only the idea of a relationship was rejected due to an overload of baggage which has taken years to work through. A counsellor has been excellent in helping me reach and realise one or two important things that were almost overlooked. Such as when we're used to a particular modus operendii, then when something fresh comes along that varies from the norm even though it feels better; the system can be shocked. And shock is not a good thing for any person already suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) -not to be confused with Shell Shock which is Soldier related.

Say NO to Drugs

There was a campaign by The Police, when I was growing up. It was a nice yellow diamond sticker with black writing. "Drugs; just say NO!" was the slogan. At the time I collected stickers for my window. -Until it got to the point where I couldn't see out. So, I put it up there with the rest. It came with my family giving me the talk that drugs are worse than cigarettes. They'd already put me off cigarettes -which is also a drug. Funny how they didn't put me off drinking. Well, one night experimenting with mixing drinks (not properly) being the straw that broke the camels back or rather made the drinkers kidney's finally give out and "fail" or stop working! And that put me off not only alcohol but anything fizzy or otherwise gassy!!!

With only one experience of using of my own. I cannot claim to be an expert on the highs and lows of the taking. What I have much more experience of is being in such circles. Whether through fault or design I gleemed much insight to the paths that can often lead to becoming an addict. I share this somewhat lengthy background, including my own experiences of social failure that could potentially have sent me spiralling down that road.

This blog is about the dangers of drugs. It sems there was a deep reluctance / refusal to deal with anything much. Unless it was getting some-one back violence for violence. Often that peeted out before anything happened. This was as near teenage-gangland as early nineties Yorkshire got. Thankfully it was rare that any village ventured beyond their own village, Or if they did they managed not to identify where they come from and the streets were just a mode of getting from a. to b. and back again from visiting Granny or some-one. Quite tame really. ~Thankfully. Though there was the odd fight. Knives were rare.-comparitively. This was a good thing. And being UK guns are largely unheard of. I don't know of a shooting in an English school, where in America this seems quite common. Schools though have put gates up as a precaution against abductions etc.

I know some-one whose son was on drugs. The cannabis led to heroin and one day after I forget how long, he went a bit too far. And that was the end of him. I know of some-one else who was on drugs, the last I heard he seems to have got off them. But he doesn't look the same. Not as healthy as he did. Though he was always a bit of a wayward kid really.

I've seen a lot of people over the years who are on drugs. Cocaine users seem overly sure of themselves but won't be corrected and tend to push their beliefs on others too much. It seems cannabis though is the most common -that I've come across anyhow. These people tend to get forgetful, yet somehow remember the things that are important to them. Commonly, I find people who are angry but have somehow repressed/surpressed it. Tend to blame society for banning drugs rather than realise it was there own overwhelming desire to be entertained to an extreme thrill level, and part of this was seeking something elicit and illegal that drew them to this criminal life in the first place. Oh, yes. That was the other thing. Invariably there is a strong criminal element to such activities no matter what the narcotic of choice is.

Campaigns to decriminalise or make legal such activities tend to go with the following arguments:

In places like Holland where smoking cannabis in public is legal, there is less crime. Actually there is only less drug related crime -only that too depends on your vuiew point. Drug related tends to us to mean crime to get drugs, whereas drug related could mean drugs being the cause of crime; this is important as cannabis for one is considered by many whom I would consider reputable as causing mental illness such as schitzophrenia. It certainly doesn't help it or any other illness. The depression will come back once the artificial high has faded. You can't seek your answers for your cure laid helpless and out of it for long periods of time!

When pushed to try and I do say pushed. They might argue "offered". This is just words. I remember feeling quite lonely at the time, and somewhat depressed I'd failed to tell a young woman how I really felt about her. I think I overplayed the humour. The whole concept was new to me. Humour, and the thought that some-one some day might actually found me attractive. Well, when the chance came I'd already been put off the idea not only the religiously orientated lectures from Grandma, "sex belongs in marriage", but also the doctrine that a woman wants security from a man, a house, a car, some-one with a job. Some-one who could work with his hands. I had none of these things, it seems everything I'm not. Though I got a flat when I could take no more. Though this too is provided for by the council rather than a result of my own endeavours! So still the confidence is low. And it's not a bad area as far as such things go, but the powers that be seem hell bent on making it worse! Putting up more housing so it becomes an estate. Even though estates are notorious for being higher in crime rates. Not only that to contend with but PTSD. from a rather less than satisfactory childhood you might say -If you don't want to speak openly that is.

Well, I was very lonely. This was sensed. I had chosen the wrong path due to my PTSD induced shyness. This became apparent later. And only after I'd thrown out the only thing that might have been a doorway back towards the right direction. In a clerical induction we did an exercise which meant we had to put details of every-one in the group in chronological order. We were allowed to keep this. I did for a time, even looking at the love letter I got from this young lady I'd met or come across on the induction. I can't really say met as the shyness got heavily in the way. As did the total lack of knowing what to say etc. However one of the role plays we had to do for the course was quite funny. And though I was blind sided in a room. A mock phone line had been set up. And the mechanic I played must still be wondering what to do with the car whose lady owner for some reason left frilly knickers on the back seat!
Anyway, it's funny/strange how one clings to things like this when there's little else. I clung to the letters for awhile. Only we were a family of horders; it was difficult to throw things out. It was hard to speak out about what was going on in that childhood, I finally did manage to find some-one who could listen and did manage to understand. I still feel pangs of pain at the powerlessness of it all. What do you do when you say to some-one "I don't like so and so." and yet they fiercely and angrily argue that they somehow know better than you how you feel, or how you're allowed to feel. I just got shouted down by the mother "You Do!!!" and "Of course you do child!", suffice to say I was on the verge of giving up completely...

Somehow, miraculously a friend of the family visited at the right moment one day, and in much tears I managed to get it threw to him what I had struggled to get through to anybody else. And even Grandma's campaigning "He likes his ...(step uncle)" was stopped so neighbours went through a period of confusion no longer did they have this slogan to present to me every bl****! time it came out that the so and so was visiting, or I had to go up some 300 miles to visit him to help him campaign for his politician.

Well, that's some baggage to have to cart around. It seemed to be thought that getting it out in the open was the end of it. It was merely the start of it! The start of recovery. This is a long journey. I finished the leisure course, the worst environment to be in for a survivor of abuse by an athetics coach! The other pool attendants kept setting me up, or trying to without my permission. I didn't know how to deal with this. Nor the words I'm not ready for a relationship, didn't come to mind. And if they had I'm sure the argument would have been on the lines of "You don't need to have a relationship - just F*** have sex with her"

Well, it would've been even more embarrassing for me to have had to admit that I am impotent. I just walked out to where I was pointed to "Sorry, your not my type." and walked back in. I have to admit some were my type, some I could've died for had my circumstances been different!
Upon crawling back to my hidehole the laughter and ridicule got more and more difficult as it got worse. There was a bully there 6 ft 6 and twice as stupid! I remember one incident I was pretty much dragged out to the pool side with him visibly shaking with almost hysterical laughter, the same line here we go "some-one wants to meet / go out with you"
same response from me. Turns out they hadn't even spoken to her, needless to say, I didn't stay to explain.

Thankfully, an old problem with my ears recurred. I should not have been diving anyway but had forgotten this advice. But at last I had good reason to leave. And grabbed it with both hands despite the bully in an otherwise quiet moment having demanded that I didn't.

The Ugly Duckling

Other things I tend to draw from when looking back to this era of my life are songs like Paul Hardcastle's 19; although I've never known that kind of war. The song talks of a similar illness, or even the same illness but derived in a different way, under different circumstances.
I remember playing Strawberry Fields alot, preferring Candy Flip's version. And for a time found some solace in Runnaway Train by Soul Assylum. I bought just about every REM album I can get my hands on and because of the possibilities of modern technology have downloaded much, if not all to my mp3 playing mobile. These are also on the old mini disk/s ("old" -ha!)

Beyond music, I keep myself occuppied -when I have the energy. TV does sometimes take over, and gets boring! I'm not having much luck with computers, though I keep plugging away trying to learn programming, and not bothering to upgrade which not only saves money from the offset but also reduces the risk of my belongings being all that interesting to those with no compunction against taking things that arent theirs to!

Looking back. I know that I wasn't ready for a relationship, I wasn't mature enough, didn't have much to go on from a single parent family and a Grandma to supposedly to fill in blanks of ye olde England where I would've had fued my way to my lady's heart. (stuff that!) A rubbish school showed me by design that fighting is violence, violence is cowardice usually; whether scared to fight or scared not to fight it's essentially the same base. Those scared not to fight trained to, those scared to fight like me had a situation at home. I guess typical of a matriarcle upbringing where the females discourage such things to maintain dominance. -Except of course, when it's from them under their roof, their rules etc.

So, to cut a long story even shorter, by the time I landed at college, there wasn't much left of me. And what was seems to have been branded nerd or geek etc. So much so that it would not have had much more of an effect had it been branded on my forehead.

Well, some-one was smiling down on that clerical induction. Having watched some classic old school comedy videos (A reconditioned recorder, I was allowed to help pay for at about age 16... I'm not saying the family was out of date but the royal mail used to brand our letters -like in the 1800's. Grandma flatly refused the free trial of skyTV. because -"WE CAN'T AFFORD IT!" -OK, maybe there were hidden catches... anyway.

It seems the comedy exposure was beginning to rub off on me. Only I hadn't really noticed it before. Not getting much of a word in edge ways at either home or school, and not really doing much else. I was considered brave in the brass band learners group, by just going in setting up and getting on with it. Others had to be told by the teacher to start. Of course having tried and tried so hard at school to fit in. In the mis-guided belief that this would remove the attention, bullying etc. I was suddenly panic stricken, and did everything then to delay playing. This was great still as a hobby that allowed me to see my dad -And get fish and chips after etc. But he had dreams of me being the best in the world, and so pushed for me to go to school lessons. The teacher was a dragon. A bully who forced me to stay until I got older and brave enough to finish things completely requiring a letter from home.

Apparently there's something somewhere about a law of attraction, some-one else has it as "You take what's there." ...Well, nobody told me this before. And had I known this in the first place I might not be in the mess I'm in now! What's there now isn't much, and I suspect isn't even positive. So, they can keep it. A psychic told me I didn't want to come to this world, but I was somehow pursuaded. Well, things haven't worked out and I've had enough and want to go back home to where I was before this tradgic shame of an excursion happened. That's how I feel. As for the woman in question, it seems she thought it was some kind of game or something when I asked to see her. She's moved on. And I don't begrudge her it. I do however feel extreme concern now for my own future. There's a saying "bad company breeds bad character" in the bible. And I know I didn't really learn good communication skills. Not properly or with any sound foundation. And as such I am susceptible in this rotten existence to the storms and waves washing away my best efforts. Not bad under the circumstances, but not good enough.

The day of the clear out

Soon after the induction finished, the family friend was helping my mum store some things in the loft. He noticed an old "Dinky" toy car that had been painted and engraved by the abusive uncle. The family friend picked it up took one look at it, and simply said "You don't really need this any more do you!" ...And so the mega clean out started. I didn't have a big room, little more than a box cupboard with the trap door to the attick!
(Hence, the reason the family friend was passing in and out through the bedroom, a long with my mother)
I got rid of a fortress, something my aunt -the abusers sister in law fought voiceiferouly for him that he wanted it back. Grandma intervened "It's gone to ..(relatives)". I dubbed this aunt as "AuntAgony" because she seemed to campaign against me. Flaunting her boobs in front of the TV when BayWatch was on, saying things like "oh, Silicion boobs!" and "mine are real!" I was 14 when this started. She came home from mid-wifery in SaudiArabia. How I wished she'd stayed! -In Saudi that is!!! It was pointed out that it was her house and she wanted things done her way. To cut another long story short. This started a vindictive war on both sides really. Growing up in an environment dominated by females is not easy. I once cringed when a haggared woman in a counselling course announced to/at me "oh, I like a man in touch with his feminine side!"
My pain is struggling to stay/be in touch with my natural masculine side -whatever that is!
Well in throwing out keepsakes including srapbooks -all on Scotland as we rarely went anywhere else after Skegness. Not that was bad but it seemed the host was overly nice in Scotland by comparison to the nice hosts in Skegness. (Grandma tended to lap up flattery, etc. -very curteous and attentive particularly to Grandmas needs. Her glasses were already rose tinted! ..God Bless her heart!)

Loads of papers went, early writings, bits and bats. Some early thoughts towards helpingh others in similar plights, though AuntAgony stole some early proverb like statements which I've never seen nor heard of since. Though laughing at me she did say she'd taken some to work. I never gave permission for any of this! It perhaps wasn't the right time or place. First I had to break free from the confines of the family home. So frought with egos and agendas not congruent to my own sense of self, freedom and well being.

Presently I got down to where the blanket box full of papers was nearly emptied, and looking pretty neat for once! And there was this beautiful poem, with the names and addresses included the lass I could've fell for had shyness, illness/es not held me back. Fall I did, but from grace rather than in love, or more in love. I will always regret my stand-offishness, but meeting people is no longer taught. Neither even is dancing. At least in the old days a man had a simple opening "may I have this dance?" I have no clue what the openings are these days. I seem to attract attention more from a silly prank -usually in jest rather than anything I've actually said. I do remember being able to lift a box whilst the other guy couldn't. If she wants strength, well that's out. Having dialysed for nearly 10 years now, there isn't much of me physically left. So efforts to build up my mind and soul seem pretty pointless for the most part. Although maybe I will be in better shape than I would've been when I go to meet my maker. (It can't be that long now, I shouldn't wonder)

Well, I read the letter. Kept coming back to it. Pondered over the phone number of the young woman who wrote it. Got as far as the last digit on a couple of occassions, I think I realised soon enough that to let it ring wasn't fair if all I could do was hang up in panic as soon as I even heard the tone! Well, if I didn't know what to say on the phone bearing in mind social phobia was too self conscious at that point in time to go to the cinema or something. Night Clubs are still OUT! -though I don't drink alcohol now anyway. Ten years on or more (Past 2003) and I can't even get my words right in writing, God only knows what I would've been like on the phone ten years before. Stuttering and slobbering with long awkward pauses no doubt! She wouldn't, nor couldn't be expected to put up with that!

It became apparent to me that keeping these documents was not, nor would not be healthy for me. And so with regret they went out with some of the other things that were being thrown. I did this with a very heavy and somewhat broken heart. Alas we had a window. A view to something that might've been quite special. I wasn't strong enough and most probably will never be.
I do wish she'd known some years later when I saw her at college that while I couldn't do anything with her hiding behind the desk, it was endearing somehow. (A Goalkeeper knows a good dive when he sees one!) and as she somehow felt the need to pluck up courage to see me in her then capacity as careers guidance counsellor in another event leading me for a moment to college. I overheard her say to her colleague something like "I know him, ...made a right fool of myself." I do still hate the thought that she feels foolish on my account!!! Perhaps the incident/s will go in my list of "wrong doings" that I showed an Art Therapist and worked through with once. Never thought of this when survivval and finding my self was sole order of the day! It seems I couldn't think of acts of kindness when I was spending energies in working out 'confused actions' as these later became known.

Where did I go instead?

Well, I fought to get away from the main bully at school, the secret ring leader. Or rather I let him fight me. Once he'd made me look the bad guy, and manipulated Grandma into forcing me to what she thought was in her mind "making friends", it wasn't to him in later years I was to learn "we never said we were friends! (Perhaps their should be a ritual or something? ...I'll get the lambs blood...Or is it the fattened calf???!). Not this time, I just walked away, though he still thinks and acts like he won something. He actually lost what he termed some-one "TO LAUGH AT". Being laughed with I don't mind. Whenever I laugh WITH some-one else; if it's at their expense I try to bring it back on myself, or pause then end with a compliment or mention something I like about them in a way that is genuine. What I took was relentless. For no other reason that it seemed ordered by the powers that be. (Granny!)

Well, I'd seen a group on these travels, and asked if I could go round with them. They thought I meant for a day or so whilst I (me!) patched things up with this bully that I'd fought so hard to get away from. Yes, I know. Ironic, a great offer pending, almost crying out to be taken up that would have led me well away from the danger zone was happening at college yet I go and choose pretty much more of the same! Though my counsellor points out that:-

"We all do things that are/feel comfortable at the time...", I think the rest of that is "even if they aren't safe for us."
Well, this choice was stupid, similar places to where the bully went, though I always left when I saw him! It seems he had a greater need to get me back in his group; I wasn't going. Nor was he doing anything much to admit his entire wrongness -In some way it seems lucky I was brought up by women. As in female culture this is a demand for forgiveness. Foregiveness I could do, if I haven't already because whilst I refuse to be at war -on his terms. I am resolved to the fact that I'm never going back! Why should I? I never wanted to be there in the first place once I realised what he actually is, and had been doing all along! Hiding behind a mask, one of these like the abuser who managed some-how to create a charisma or something that attracted people to him and fooled them into thinking he was a nice, good person.

Quack! Quack! Oooops!!!

The group I got myself into. (another fine mess!). Were about school leaving age. Only two or three years in it. The "Big Boss" was some 10 years older than me. Hard to say where the drug influence actually came from. But the oldest had all the contacts. Well, I made it clear as soon as such conversations came up. I'm not doing drugs, I can't stand the idea. I really can't! I also refused to raid some farmers fridges. Despite being a bit partial to milk at the time. I also refused to take part in at least one kangeroo court, and various underage sex activities -though that was more from the fact that I was and still am suffering Impotence. (who wouldn't with all I've been through?) It had become reported by me that I was pacifist. I pretty much am but don't advertise it as it seems to attract bullies as much as the one it got rid of!

I do think I gave too much information away regarding street property. Early on for some reason I invited two of my supposed new found mates -though it soon became clear there was a strong wish for me not to be around! -two came to my house. In retrospect I realise they were seeing what I had. Though believe it or not they were still at school. Luckily Grandma knew not to get anything worth losing. But later the oldest lad decided to quiz me when he saw me about my neighbours. In my niave stupidity. I said much more than I should have. So his friends turned out to have a removal firm did they? Well AS SOON AS i REALISED WHAT HAD HAPPENED WHEN MY NEIGHBOURS WERE BURGLED IN THE SAME NIGHT! This information went straight to crime stoppers. Though I don't know what they did about it. Problem was I was very very slow to realise. Whatever intelligence I have now, I wasn't born with it. It has taken time to grow. These neighbours aren't bad people. And first on my list to pay back with interest as soon as I win a big amount on the lottery! -or something... I just Thank God for the intelligence coming eventually to work it out at least. And will a thousand times when the lottery win comes, besides those for the lottery win itself! It will -stay POSITIVE!

More regrets

This was the time I came across the next person that might have made me happy. It took a couple of years. I first had to turn a blind eye to underage drinking. Not knowing what else to do. I even encourage N. to skive off. He might've even ended up at school had I not turned up. My own neediness seems prevalent here. Or in common speak: I had a lot of growing up to do! You can only do so many walks with the same person before it gets boring; well N. got bored, I was too desperate for some company to notice how I felt, except panic that this feature was slipping away. I went on about that girl a lot. "Silver" this is not her name but she came noticeably into my life after "Gold", so that will do. Gold was a different world and somehow didn't come up. I had no-one to ask without risking ridicule. It was a different me to whop I am now. Mentally, at least. I had dreams that I couldn't fulfil and making the typical rookie mistake of seeing what I wanted to see, rather than what was there. Despite being locked out of the weekend sit ins, hidden from when I went down to call, never really being welcomed. I pushed on, as though I might change them or something. (It now seems obvious that even professionally trained psychologists / counsellors cannot change some-one who doesn't want to. Nor is that simple to make some-one whom they are not -nor should it be attempted; though families seem to a lot!

Wilderness years indeed. It had got out prior to meeting Silver that I fancied a lass 15 going on 16, that was OK. considering the bully I'd previously got away from was kissing with an 11 year old! -I refused to go out / go with (I always mix these terms up, sorry!) her 12 year old sister. Although they did seem mature for their age ...Or was it us that were immature??? Anyhow, that was the beginning of the end but during the transition a lass caught my eye. College / Work was still something to forget about when I got home -So, I thought! And brainwashing, time, passiveness, ignorance all served to fool me into unquestioningly believing this was it, my lot for life. I didn't know any different. My mum only saw her one friend from school, to my knowledge. How am I supposed to know. It never really passed in my conscience except as a dream that the shy girl in the induction who barely even looked at me was perhaps in fact waiting to be asked a question. A question from me that never came. How would I word it? Couldn't dance, scared socially as these were unknowns. Didn't know much about her as never ventured to ask. The note was dealt with as humour and somehow left at that, but I didn't really control the process. It seems panic took over and the idiot in me came out somehow.

I now know what the thought meant when it came as something like "You have to fancy some-one to fit in." Unfortunately, it came as a correction rather than a clue of fitting in anywhere -which I once believed to be possible. Coming whilst in the clique I was to break out of! I saw a girl whom physically had the look and was the eldest of these kids, going on 16. Frankly, some of the others looked better, and I was probably a better match for the 12 year old had things been different of course. There was the smallest of sparks, even the physical attraction wasn't that much. And so I thought right I'll tell some-one I fancy A.
Well, the news was like the only thing that had happened that year, News spread like Wildfire! Dogs on heat don't travel as far! A massive group gathered outside her house as I was expected to go and somehow woo her. Needless to say I barely said two sentences all the while. Oddly enough the bully seemed to help taking me off for a walk as we escorted another lass through some rough area home. I went back they'd all gone, and I spent all the rest of the time, probably not long really, still trying to find something to say and playing "Quick Hide! My Parents are coming!", to make things worse her mate reminded me of some-one I knew in school and I kept looking at her as I couidn't figure it out! I know now those girls were older, twins and this lass was younger. Clearly it wasn't meant to be. And I'm glad because we clearly would not have been anywhere near a good match. All of them drank Cider -YUK!!! Liked Horror and Scary movies -NO THANKS!!! And were somewhat into cars in a way that I've never been. But if one almost good thing came from it I now like Top Gear. Not for the techie stuff, but the antics!
Well, Retrospect is a wonderful thing! And hopefully my retrospect will become another persons foresight? But I didn't realise how weak the attraction was, although I knew a word "Settling" (understatement of the Century!!!) I wouldn't have known how much but I tried sending a poem. Even my Grandma, celebrated locally for her poems in her lifetime, even she thought / noticed I'd slipped of my rocker!
Well, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" as Granny always used to say. What was the scorn? I would've had no idea. But love seems a one way street in that rules for men at a particular point, are different to those that a woman may employ. Or was that what Gold meant when she said she thought she'd made a fool of herself?

conversations with a sage!

Well, I more than matched it! I know at about this time there was a late night phone in by a lady called Alex Hall. She was quite wise with the advice. And I gleemed a lot of good sense about life by listening to her show. She encouraged callers to phone in with advice whenever there was some-one with a problem. I must've been in that cave about two years by then so approx. 1995. The year I met Silver and lost her again in the same moments! Other males phoned about a woman they'd met who was definitely his Princess. It had to be her this time etc. But then Why wasn't it. Alex pointed out that He was putting too much pressure on her by his expectations. She was a woman not a Princess!
Of those who couldn't understand what they'd done wrong having turned up with flowers, or chocolates or some other lavish gift. Were also corrected that a woman just wants a nice time with pleasant company, and to get to know some-one new, not necessarily even for romance etc. is the message I got. It seemed clear hold off the gifts until you know the person and are thinking about getting engaged. Or it's Christmas or something!

Lately, it seems I'm having more success almost practically-insulting a woman than any amount of compliments might do. Compliments are flattery when you barely know a person. And Thanks to Alex as more makes sense now. I said to my current counsellor of Gold. "Whe she was in the room a light went on somewhere in me." but equally quickly it went out again when away from the situation. This is because of our lack of ability to interact. I had nothing to think about when I went away. Except an address etc. which I had decided I could not use as it was given indirectly as an exercise rather than personally by request. I wish I'd had the collective thought to say -even calling across the room as my legs had probably gone a buit knowing me. ("Hey, gold, can I use this number tonight to speak to you?" -again, what would I, we have said?) Still enough to break a young heart into more pieces!

Alex seems to have come too late for me. And I didn't work it out immediately anyway. But I am grateful to that sage, whom I think helped open a door. I was getting my psychotherapy via my GP at this point and rang up the phone in to offer words of advice, encouragement or whatever to abuse survivors. I read brief passages from the book, Breaking Free, Kay Toon et-al. as well as offering some of my own developing thoughts.

Nothing to see here!

meantime, the kids were old enough to get away with underage drinking at the pub. And this was their main haunt for awhile. Pool was played a lot. Possibly a focus to avoid having to say much to each other. I longed for the pub where Silver worked, even though I was mute to say anything to her somehow. My 'year' away, and her not waiting, coupled with the dreaded doctrine of Granny's religious beliefs that still stick in my mind and need dealing with somehow! Depression that I'd missed my chance, and now I didn't have what it took (as this seems to have been provided from above before -catching everybody out of the blue!) As though some-one opened a window that day?

That, believe it or not is a brief version of the background. Home life wasn't great, mum had started drinking and shouting aggressively. Auntagony was on the rampage with her campaign that I was a naughty child that was simply telling lies about the abuse. "You don't like him!" she accussed, in a milder moment. I pointed out that was due to what he did over many years! And How else do you express that you don't want to be around/near some-one?
Grandma always took Auntagony's side, only ever stopped my mother when her rantings became too extreme for her liking. And on and on with the unhappiness.

The mind has its ways. It seems a person cannot look for good things amid bad. It first has to work free. Is this something to do with a biblical lesson on old and new wine skins? Anyway I would wish Gold, and Silver to know respectively that availability and different circumstances permitting had I been able to I would have snapped them up in an instant, No Question I was hooked! I just failed to hook up, if you see what I mean. And a long life of regret, it has been!!!

But now I must move on from the background of the things going on around me at and up to the time and focus more on events leading to the incident.

Quack! Quack! "Get Out of Town!"

Even guns were experimented with!

I felt so alone when they were avoiding me, going to different places to meet. It somehow made me more desperate to find them, to fit in. their attempts to be Indiana Jones continuing when some-one brought some kind of double barrel shot gun to the park. In brouad daylight, with young children about, one being left to play on her own. Thankfully her mum called her, or somebody suggested she go. I was nominated the task of getting her to her house, across a quiet road. Which I just about managed despite being full of whiskey!

Well, right on that park, in broad daylight. The weaponm was produced. No targets. Well, I forget exactly how it came about, but they'd got me drunk, having sold me on some idea somehow, (my boozy dad might have discouraged drinking outside for all his bingeing! But no he thought drinking would relax me enough to "ger' a girlfriend" as he now feels a failure in that his family line is coming to an end after me. It's caused something of a rift as I don't want children. Certainly not in my condition and all the issues this life has brought me. It's not fair to say I don't like children, it's more that I don't know what to say to them. Though I did manage to teach the odd one some Goalkeeping skills; as he'd previously been scared of the ball coming at him.

Back to that ball park incident. As I said, they'd got me drunk and so now they tried to make me kill myself. In a role play that I recognised from The Leathal Weapon Films with Mel Gibson and Danny Glover. The "Put it under chin, "Well he can't put it to his ears the bullet would just come out the other side" etc. etc. "Here put it in your mouth if you're not chicken, it's oaded!" or words to the effect. I grabbed it, turned it on one of them, got hold of the pin and fired. I don't think he noticed me move it away slightly over his shoulder as he cringed. To be fair I picked the smallest, like all cowards do when gaining the upper hand. The big lad was powerful, drugs and gym training, and probably his home life had made him aggressive and disrespectful, his size made him arrogant (a sort of nasty over confidence) and in that moment, I first pointed it at him briefly, his eyes showed surprise but no fear. I still had some group loyalty. I do seem to have a strong sense of this, but it is often mis-guided somehow! In this case it might not have mattered, except the effect with the look on the lads face whom I did point it at (to theeir mind) and pressed the trigger. Made for a great effect from the audience. It seemed to impress them for the moment anyway. I closed the interaction with that famous Mel Gibson line "I'm going to get something to eat, I'm hungry!"
Off I went. I wasn't going back that day, that's for sure. I heard on the news as a moot point that Lions, or Leos usually give a warning. I really, don't know how much more I could take and stay the right side of morality, freedom, self peacefulness (relatively speaking) etc...

The next time I went. This was becoming habbit, the pangs in my stomach were getting deeper, bigger. Offset only by the worry of the thoughts like "Well, what else do I do?", I wasn't exactly wanted at home either, except to pay extortionate rent.
I got the inquision mainly from the big lad. "You didn't come back!"
This time the incident seemed to take on something ressembling EastEnders, though I rarely, if ever watch it.
"Yeh, so?" - "I never said I was coming back. And none of you volunteered to come with me." (I'm glad they didn't!)
I think some-one said, "We had you watched and you didn't even go to the fish shop."
This would be true, "when I got there I found I had no money, so I walked on to the garage. When I got there, (they sell food) it made more sense to continue on and go home!

There was a nice pause, I said look, I'm not all that interested in guns anyway, if I was I'd go to an Aunt's farm. (prior experience may have helped my case, after all these people in looking for easy targets, tend to want to see panic reactions, more likely from the unprepared. Chance does favour the prepared mind. And as they were showing off they wouldn't want to risk being outdone, particularly at their own game!

I said "Look, tell me as soon as you can if you're planning something like that again, and I'll stay away or if I come and that's going on then I will go away and leave you to it because I'm serious about my pacifism. (I was, it won me the popularity contest against the bully with my grandma!).
How I found the courage...? But, I added, I'm not doing the whiskey again either, the bottle I bought, I was drinking it to get rid of it! And certainly not in broad daylight when there's kids about. Look if you want me to go I'll go because if I'm gonna get a kangeroo court it's the last you'll see of me."
And I meant it! They chose instead to laugh, in his absence, at the lad who "wet himsen'" (alledgedy) at the last incident.
He seems to have got his own back though. Before I left that place completely, I returned some time later briefly to see that my card one Valentines Day, 1996/7? had had a "great" effect in putting Silver in the arms of another. ...Maybe I should'nt have bothered looking for something to eat??? Or bothered with a card for that matter.

The Night of The storm

I once saw a film, "Calm before the storm" where a couple were on a boat out at sea, enjoying a lovely sailing trip. The Peacefullness and Tranquility was emphasised before the storm hit. And hit hard! The weather wasn't the only storm going on though, I won't say more in case you haven't seen the film.
Well, the incident of the drug trying was like that. That group really knew how to be aloof. And really make me feel alone. (Times like this I realise how alone I am. And the only way to cope is to just accept, and get on with something).
I just walked round not knowing what to do with myself, having said "We'll meet in the Ivy House.", two or three passes and still not there. It seemed when they did appear, they were in some-ones house who I barely knew and couldn't really look for there. Now, I wish I'd just gone home!

The people I knew in the pub had to sub divide in order not to cause the landlord concern. The usual crowd in the Pool/Darts room, but some of the core that had made the original group when I met them had stayed outside in the beer garden. It was a nice, pleasant night so I went out to talk to them. I was told go away. So, I went. Slightly crushed. I sat with people I don't really know, who for some reason took great delight in reminding me they knew I was a virgin, and persisted in the awkward question of was I gay. Some Wind Up merchant even managed to get a gay person believing I was and approach me. The core knew because having bought my own drink in the early days before exiled from their house in the cold, when their cruelty started. And I was being jeered, you don't know what pain and suffering is. Looking back, I think it was only something and nothing started by the sufferojets in the group about the difficulty of Period pains. I could take no more; fierce teasing, jeering, being singled out. It's just noise now. But, I'd thought before times in some vain hope that if they knew what I'd been through they might at least show some respect. So, later regretting it, of course. I blurted out "If You knew about sexual abuse, you'd know what suffering was!!!"

I wish now I'd never disclosed it. For one thing it's none of their business. And I heard shreeks of laughter through the door as I stormed away -that Christmas Eve night! On the way home I met an old school flame, (Puppy love, really). She was going out with a neighbour. They were going to the pub across the road, and invited me due to the season. So, I had a quick drink with them wished them good tidings for the season, and was on my way. Wasn't quite over this lass, and she later said that she regarded me as "The one that got away", well. If there has to be one, then I'm glad I was some use to somebody. Attraction was more fatal than anything, and down to seeing a lot of this heavily made up person. Some women are good artists, I have to say Leonardo Davinci would've been proud, I think... Anyway, enough of this!

I was getting this rubbish, unsure as to whether they knew and what the motive was beyond my initial reaction showing annoyance, and their sick desire to wind me up. So when the invite came from outside I was more than happy to take it up. Even though I know how desolate I was feeling, it still seems strange to me that I put up with it for so long. It was 1997 when I said my last Goodbye! (Good Riddance!) But for the time being, some days before a family friend had warned me she thought I was in danger! Here's me thinking 'we got through that one!' ..."YEH!"
Everything was typical of an initial meeting, getting through the hello's OK. Though looking back I seemed to perhaps getting "Good Cop v. Bad Cop", another expression from The Leathal Weapon Film! Suddly things went quiet for a moment or two, and here's where I learned the biblical term (though I had not read the Bible at this point, only once I'd said my last Goodbye, and taken a ploughing from a college course -A female Dominated environment, and me with an unchecked "boob fettish" as was diagnosed, that caused me to Oggle, quite without realising it! And something that took awhile of further work and counselling to look at.and try to reduce.

After the moments silence "Do You want to try?" in a friendly, quiet placid way. Talk about "People will come to you like sheep, but inside are like wolves!" It's the only way to describe it. Well having sat there awhile watching them smoking, and getting along. And seeing them hide it from the boss' son as he passed, trying to keep an eye on things I guess. And he did look bemused at me there "I hope you lads aren't taking drugs!"
"No" was said quite out of unison, well, I wasn't at that point. Nor did I think I ever would be doing. I'd made it quite clear over and over, throughout my time there. That I didn't want anything to do with it. I don't! And I've got stronger since! Though not before I learned what the saying meant "Bad company breeds bad character!", another way to say much the same thing is the computer term "Garbage In garbage Out!"
I was surprised myself to sense myself taking the offered stick of weed! I had the thought that I would drop it on the floor, and say "Ooops! Sorry." In a light hearted way, going in to pick it up again. But it was like he'd read my mind as He looked me straight in the eye and said "Don't you go and drop it on the floor!".

In shock I didn't know what else to do! I found myself putting the darn thing to my lips and breathing some in. Though when just as aggressively, and forcefully staring me in the eyes again said "You didn't inhale!"

Forewarned is For Armed! I remembered the next door neighbour teklling me privately of how they got her hooked on cigarrettes. They keep getting you to inhale! Thank-fully I was under no pressure there. She'd even said NO to letting me try until I pointed out "I know you'll look after me, but what if others come. I have to be able to say I've tried it, otherwise they'll look down on me. Though I don't have to let them see it as these friends of yours know you wouldn't lie to them! That's when she warned me, and took it off me as soon as it left my lips. I am grateful, Strong of her though the shopkeeper sold separates! I could otherwise have come across those seeking to cut their costs. To be honest, I wasn't getting any spending money at the time, nor required to do any chores either! Spoilt some said/say. Wasted opportunities I now see!!! And so to this challenge of The Biggest lad saying, accussing You didn't inhale!"
I looked back, and simply said "So what?" handing it back to them. They were shocked to find out I knew how they'd got hooked. So, now we were all shocked one way or another. I forget much after this, but at some point I went back in having had two shallow puffs of that muck! I think the insults may've started again. I somehow stayed positive with something on the lines of "I'm not going to fall out with you, but if that's how you feel I'm off!" Probably thinking (If that's what it does to you good riddance!). And realising what a fool I'd been.
I went back in the vain hope that there might still be a chance to get what I was actually staying around for. To couple up with Silver. Futile because firstly she was so well guarded by the clan that wanted to use her for their purpose of one night stands. Guarded her so well from me at least that the guards at Fort Knox might learn a thing or two from it!
Secondly I became what might be termed "Wooden" if it hadn't the connotation, I was practically mute around her after all. (something I later found out to be PTSD. (Post Traumatic Stress isorder. It would drive any-one to distraction. Severely held me down in many, if not all walks of life!

From the books I later read in Counselling, it seems that people deal with issues ike this as partners. But for me it was so debilitating that I would have to be alone! I did see her one last time several months later. She looked very Pregnant, almost due. I was gutted, and could barely move, let alone talk!!! The first thing to have killed my self esteem was learning she hadn't waited long when I'd gone. Too drunk by that time despite good advice. And I'd been kept away as though she had changed her mind, or wasn't really interested in the first place anyway. The second was an annonymous card and she assumed/ was told it was from some-one else, whom I saw her with again on the park. You know the third and last. Three strikes and you're out seems to be the currency. Though I might be wrong. Quai sera-sera then!

Well. The next day I felt out of my body. I couldn't get out of bed for trying! I needed to get on. To do things, not lake about here. By this time I had a flat to run. Thankfully far enough away from that area to stay out of the way! I became reclusive not so much Supermon as Solo Man, I guess.Not needing any-one until it became apparent to me that what I had originally trusted as cast Iron, prophetic you might say from some psychic had turned out to be completely wrong! I'd been thrown by it all, the way it was done. Maybe it went to my head, or at least all the wrong stuff did, the hype floats up whilst sense is heavier and sinks. And you've got to grab it with both hands before it does. Time waits for no-one! But that's a story that I will most likely take to the grave with me as I was sworn to secrecy.

Runnaway Train

"Get Out of Town", the othe ducks quacked...
"Get Out of Town", the othe ducks quacked... | Source

ON trying to BECOME(/ing) A beautiful Swan!

I would say, speak to your local or national helplines. I did, even though I'd got away. And the Sage on the phone In had callers bringing up this and similar subjects which also helped. the psychic, before he fell out with me over something stupid I did, which he said caused him and his one love arguments! I regret this as it was never my intention. I care less now as I seem to be being attacked by plagues of something! So, I'm being punished, or that's how it certainly feels. The worst of it is I'm still alone with no energy to do much, a failing access for dialysis and options fast running out! (certainly for my liking, and especially under the current circumstances of my life!)

So, I never really got to become that beautiful Swan. Or a person, just a number on a list, a patient requiring tax payers money to stay alive, and barely so at that! Far below my standard capacity.

What becomes of the broken hearted?

Maybe, I can write enough here to show any-one wavering that it is best to stay off drugs! I know I would be in a far worse state now if I had succumbed!
In fact I would go so far as adding to stay away not only from all drugs and the other illegal substances, or even prescription unless it is prescribed to you. Avoid all horror, Occult films and books -even stories to be on the safe side where you can. And "don't dabble!" was good advice for me.
Armed with this I might just be, OK...

Wrong Crowd

Did you ever get into a wrong crowd?

See results

Opinion Formation

It seems from what I have seen that the above is exactly what these people seek.

Going Nowhere and thrilled to death about it! An easy way to feel some kind of achievement is attained without actually having to do anything. A way to try to numb out any bad experiences - this includes wrong doing as well as of being wronged. And finally a way to enhance experience.

All these things seem to be a lure to some. There is a thrill about doing something that you aren't supposed to. It was thrilling as a child running away having knocked on a door. It seems stupid now, and experience showed me that a thrill isn't necessarily a good thing!
Take the above list. False achievement: Takes away any and all motivation for any real acjhievement. Purpose is lost in life, And as time ticks on, the best time to get on with things moves further and further away until time runs out completely.
Numbing out bad feelings so they aren't felt prevents the motivation to deal with problems, to learn how best to solve things without aggression. So that at the end of the day /saga every-one goes away feeling content or even happy that they've got something positive from the experience. Being wronged causes a feeling off being hard pressed on.
What is known less is that drugs numb out the conscience; the inbuilt ability to tell a person s/he shouldn't be doing, or have done something. Hence, tyranny, crime increase. Whether acknowledged by a particular nation or not.

Many Druggies (A term I use to cover pushers, users, appologists, protagionists etc.) look at Holland as having less crime, and try to put this down to certain substances being legal. What is failed to be noted is what the general structure of society is. Gangsters turned the loyalty statement of "Don't tel (AKA. Grass) on mates." into a war warning of "Don't Grass" meaning basically, if / WHEN they do something against you; and you tell the police, etc. The threat is there that the wrong doer will come back and in their words "it will be worse". It should be worse for them, besides motivation and availability to assist change but many supposed people who claim to deal with the mind seem content just to palm people off with more/other substances! -albeit legalised. There doesn't seem to be much probing going on to get to the bottom of things and nip them in the bud.-somehow.

Enhancing experience artificially will lead to depression on top of causing addiction; just like the rest in the list really, but has a more obvious way than some of doing it. A Great Night out, perhaps. But out of that kind of money, other experiences pale more and more into insignificance. Or times with a partner whom perhaps you really love seem to hold your attention less and less. S/he wonders what is wrong? Is it them, why aren't you the fun person you were before. Suddenly you're on a different level; another planet altogether and seem to the observer to be pre-occuppied. And You won't let them in because you like your secrets. And didn't you hear they once said how drugs are for losers etc. So the night goes on in exasperation your loved one and you fall out. Or they just nicely wish you well in whom or whatever is now taking up your imagination. It's got to where Sorry, no longer works and they are convinced something is wrong but of course you won't tell them because they might try to encourage you to give up. But of course this won't do because you enjoy it and how can they or any-one understand what draws you to it? Well, in other words You've become hooked. You are now officially an adict.
Despite trying to convince yourself, and others that you can take it or leave it. Notice how you tend to take it rather than leave it!!! Your partner says goodbye, and later you see them with some-one else. They seem happy. You are crushed! How did you deal with this feeling before? Saym, when school failed you; but left you feeling that you failed it, or the placement at the youth scheme that promised a job at the end of the course turned out to be nothing but hot air! Or your family sided with the abuser because "surely they woul;dn't do something like that!" and theitr next logical stepp is in the fewer years you've been growing up, learning the ropes etc. You haven't quite been perfect or maybe "You used to be a NICE (girl)/whatever your sex)" so they found it easier to reason you were lying. Did you try to find some-one else to talk to? More Quaalifications, a better course/college. Perhaps you're one of the few who can do all this and hold down a course, job, girlfriend but I suggest there will be a payoff/s somewhere were you to look and consider hard enough.

To share a fantasy

I had a fantasy once that there would be less illness in the world. I would've perhaps believed it was just a fantasy. ...Then I learned that drugs cause certain illness. Particularly mental such as the strong link between cannabis and scizophrenia. I've listed above some others like a brief account of the cause or perpetuation of depression. There are perhaps others. Any drug helpline or doctor will have more advice on this.

I saw a TV program. A debate type thing which seemed somewhat one sided for drugs to be made leegal. Itt was annoying because this has been tried and seen to fail! And the only new argument I heard was pathetic.

"Sell them in packets so that you can put health warnings on the packets and people can see the risks for themselves."
1. Surely nothing says something is going to do you harm like making it illegal!
2. There are other ways of promoting knowledge. Posters, Websites etc. Parental Education: This did seem somewhat lapse from what I could see. One lad allowed to say "Ill bite yer' tits off!" to his mother around the house, and in front of guests! Such things day to day seem to contribute to encouraging a criminal life.

A Guiding Light

It seems the writer who expressed that she felt she'd made "A complete fool of..." herself in the careers guidance room. Had put this in a poem. A lovely poem, although I wouldn't put it all here, I wish I could remember more of it. If my remembering things weren't a constant problem for me I would be very clever indeed! -Oh, Well! Some-one saw a spark in me, a need, wish to help others. Even before I did! I guess the old saying about 'just that the timing was wrong'.; an excuse that doesn't seem adequate somehow. But the law of "You take what's there!" was completely unknown.
I suppose by the time I'd missed that all that was there was wrong for me, but more closely fit a pattern; bearing in mind that I seem to be some kind of black sheep in any family situation -sort of. Seeing eye to eye with any member of my family is something of a rarity, but the over control exerted and availabilities in people to hang about with was limited. This new person was like a breath of fresh air but unfortunately, I still had the gas mask on from past experiences. While I've improved a lot since then. At least I've come along in Astronomical Units when there maty be a light year or so to go. With self analysis, counselling, reading relevant books and trying to understand everything.
What was there once has gone, that which is there now I feel is not for/from the same source. I want the best, if anything. If not then nothing will do. I put my feelers out and I sense drugs are prevalent where I happen to have to be now for dialysis. (term. "Drugs" not to be confused for medicine!) So, I won't be taking things further if offered. In the workings out there was the odd laugh but not much. Not the same. So, again I am to break the rule take what's there. I am taking exception to it because it was not known to me when the result presented was of building that light house to be big, strong and bright. Well, instead if no ships pass that way the Lighthouse keeper will leave and the Lighthouse goes to rack and ruin. The Light will work no more, and so is put out and the whole building is brought down, the stone is taken away to be made into tarmac that people trample on! Things are happening that tell me that time is coming, and what's there now can't change it. ...Maybe an appeal to the shipping companies to say wiith a bit of work this can still be a good route to take. The Lighthouse can be fixed up?

You might wonder what this has to do with a life / existence drugs

What a mess!

garbage in, garbage out!
garbage in, garbage out! | Source

good adVices

In this case for those wanting to escape a life turned into a mere existence from drugs; the metaphor is that things seem bright at first, but the high goes away. It is said you come down lower than where you were before. The longer this goes on, the less likely rebalance will occur. I heard a psychic on the radio say that life force was affected by drug taking. And that more was poured in, like a tap opening. But this depletes the tank quicker. Explaining why a 40 year old who's been taking drugs for 20 odd years looks older than even a 50 year old who hasn't! -That is if the user reaches 40.

So, Wouldn't knowing How to come off be useful?

Whether you want to come off now or not, you might want to come off some day...

First, seek some kind of expert advice. A doctor might change the heroin for morphine, this is safer and you know what you're getting. Though it is self management. That only means that there is no funding to pay helpers. You might have some-one you know who will help manage if you don't quite trust yourself to stay inside the limits. Temptation will be strong to use extra, it may be hard to break away from long standing members of the drug crowd. But may be find out if they've had thoughts about stopping as well.

Phone lines and support groups will have help and information for both coming off and helping mates through etc. These can be found in the phonebook or local library. Failing that directory enquiries might help, or a radio phone in.

In the mean time. It's not unusual to have the cravings, Ideally, tyou'll set a day. If you only need to go every fortnight (two weeks) then you're getting there. Once a month, Well Done! Keep working to cut down. Soon it will be as safe and as risk free as it can possibly get to go 'cold turkey' -that is coming off and staying off for good.

Though it isn't as simple as just going less and less. Inhale less and less. Initially count how many inhales you take, and try to make it one or two less. Don't let the suction be as strong as before. Keep working down.

If you counted 8, for example. next time try 7. You will soon work out the minimum you need to keep you going for the week. You might still initially get your 8th intake but don't "inhale" or at least very very weakly compared to before.

The above was written with smoke-able variants in mind. But lower doses, space between taking can be made fewer and further between etc. There may even be safe ways to weaken a substance -though check this with the experts.

I wish you good luck coming off.


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