As an early teen I had the same aspirations as most of my peers - how do I fit in and get people to like and accept me? And, like many of my peers, my solution to this extremely important issue was incorrect. But at the time, I, of course, knew everything I needed to know to get on in life. Ah, the teenage years teach us so much, don't they?
I wasn't looking to be part of the "soch" (short for socialite, at that time) crowd. My family didn't have nearly enough money for me to be accepted into that domain. And I was ok with that. Those kids seemed so fake to me and I wasn't into that. The direction I went wasn't much better though. The people seemed more real because they were more accepting and tolerant but I'm not sure they really were.
I started smoking cigarettes at 13. That was the cool thing to do. Oh, and once some of the other kids found out I smoked, well, I was In like Flynn. I had found a whole new group of friends. Once you hold some type of taboo commonality it's amazing how quickly you can find friends. Now, this isn't to say that I didn't have friends. I did. I had some great friends. Only a few, but we were very close. I wasn't looking for more friends, specifically. I was looking for that status of "cool". But you can't have a status of any type without being known to more people. And so the snowball began.
A couple of my close friends were following suit with me. A couple weren't and we ultimately parted ways. I have no animosity towards them and never did. I was on my own path and I knew that. Luckily for me, that's one of those life lessons I learned from my parents at an early age. There are several of those, but that's another story in itself. Not long after starting smoking, I tried drinking. Now I'm cooler than cool! We'd get together for little secret parties, smoke and drink, and have a great time. Keeping it from our parents was the ultimate cool challenge. Because, at that age, you are so much smarter than your parents, right? And to prove that to your friends, brought your status up a notch. I was on my way up.
But by that point I knew I wasn't yet to the top of the ladder. I started smoking pot. Oh, did I like that. I felt invincible and relaxed at the same time. I didn't realize until later that pot had a slightly different effect on me than on most of my friends. It energized and invigorated me and nothing bothered me. Life is stressful as a teen and I had none of that. I'd get stoned and clean the entire house if no one was home. (I think that stemmed partly from my perfectionist nature - having to keep everything clean and orderly.) And before I knew it, that was my life. As a freshman in high school, I'd get high before going to school, I'd be clear by 3rd period or so and stay that way till I got home, then get high again in the evening. Sometimes, I'd skip school in the afternoon and hang out with friends whose parents both worked. Latchkey kids, they called them. To me, that was the coolest thing. I never had that option since my mom was a housewife and also worked from home. I couldn't be anywhere near home. And the weekends were easy - I'd just tell my parents I was staying at a friend's house overnight. If I wanted to come home, I'd just say there was some issue like my friend got in trouble or her parents were fighting. Some crazy, but realistic excuse.
I learned all the tricks and I was on top for a long time. Well, when you're a teenager, even a month is a long time. But I was on top for nearly a year. I was one of the coolest. We partied every weekend and life was a party. Then, my sophomore year, I landed in rehab. Apparently, I wasn't smarter than my parents for long. Now, I'm so thankful that I was caught before I turned 18. I was 16 at the time and my parents had full responsibility and discretion of my life. I knew I had to go and I went willingly. Now, before this snowball even began, I knew what I wanted to do in life - I wanted to be an architect. I knew this required school - a lot of it - and I knew I would get there. Ok, I went a little sideways from architecture but I still got through school and found a career I love. So, for me, rehab was going to be a necessary step. I saw where some of my friends and their friends were in life. It wasn't pretty. Some were in their 20's with no job, living with their parents or in an apartment with 5 or 6 other people, sleeping on a mattress on the floor. That wasn't going to be me. So, at 16, I was admitted into rehab. Being there willingly didn't make it much easier. I went through the same mental anguish and physical withdrawals as the other kids there. The term "cool" no longer applied to this life because there were no cliques "on the inside", as we called it. We had to get through and graduate or we wouldn't get out. My life consisted of group therapy, physical education, meditation and self introspection every single day. And even with all of that, my stay there wasn't without setbacks. I was supposed to be there for 30 days but before that, one kid managed to get out one day - he was 18 (the max age for this facility) and had his motorcycle there. He rigged one of the windows so the security system wouldn't go off and brought us back some hashish. The next morning, the staff hit us with a surprise UA. We were all caught. By participating in that little stunt, I added 15 days to my stay. But as tough as it was to get through all of that, the hardest part was putting it all out there for my parents. They had caught me so they knew something. But they didn't know everything. The first week there I had to call my mom and ask her to bring me a carton of cigarettes and pickup my birth control prescription. I'm still not sure how I managed to spit all that out. But I was defeated. I had nothing left. I had nothing to lose. Thankfully, mom was understanding and compassionate.
After I got out and got home, I relapsed once and that was the end of the compassion and beginning of tough love. They kicked me out. I lived with a girlfriend and her mom for the duration of my high school years. I got a job and contributed to the household. And I never did drugs again. I was determined to be a better person. But I still wanted the cool factor. By then, cool had a different meaning. Just having had been in rehab had a sobering, yet cool connotation to it when I returned to school. People looked at me differently. Or maybe I looked at them differently. All of the therapy did teach me that I didn't need acceptance from others to be worthy of the successes in life. I had my few close friends, still and they liked me for who I was. I didn't need the approval of anyone else. I realized that "cool" is not what you do or who you hang out with, but who you are. The only real requirements of being cool are to remain calm, and not react to adversity, but to embrace it and do what needs to be done to deal with it.
