Afterword
I intentionally made drug use/abuse and addiction a pivotal part of this series because of my own very real and highly personal experience.
At the time, cocaine was not only viewed as non-addictive but a chic party drug, used openly by celebrities.
As such, it didn’t come across as a hard or scary drug, but more like a good time.
Fast forward a few years, where it became all-consuming and would take down a number of my friends—and me too.
Like with most drugs, it took a while, long enough to seduce us into thinking we were in command of it.
But ultimately it held most of us hostage and led us to lie, steal, trade rent for a high, skip work or school, and worse.
The allure of using drugs is that frequently it was fun, exhilarating, and fueled our camaraderie.
The flip side included the debilitating moments, the kind where I was strung out after forty-eight hours of straight partying, my heart pounding so hard, I wasn’t sure I’d live to see another day.
A couple of bleak mornings, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
Nothing, however, was more frightening than when crack came on the scene and I watched people become addicted from their very first hit off the pipe.
I didn’t miss how diligently crack users recruited new users too…
no one likes to be addicted alone. I’d never seen anything like it, but it scared me so much, I steered clear.
Thank God some part of my brain still fired with common sense.
Later, my then-boyfriend (who Remy very much resembles) would take that to another level when he secretly started shooting coke, my only clue being the spoon and plastic tubing he haphazardly left out in the bathroom.
I remember with great clarity sitting around in someone’s house, still snorting cocaine, drinking alcohol, and smoking cigarettes as birdsong announced a new day, surrounded by friends as we chased a high we couldn’t catch, consumed with the depressing feeling I was wasting my life.
I knew in my heart I was a girl with potential.
A girl with dreams. A girl who spent her free time writing stories who knew, even then, she wanted to write books someday.
Things spiraled for the worse once I graduated from college. At one point, I was homeless, jobless, and headed for dire straits.
Fortunately, some of my close friends intervened and thus kickstarted the beginning of the end.
I quit using all drugs, and after another nine months of drowning in alcohol, I quit that too.
I was newly twenty-five, and after a moment of clarity, I chose sobriety and recovery in the Twelve-Step programs that addressed drug and alcohol addictions.
I threw myself into recovery, and it transported me into a life better than the one I might have had even before I succumbed to addiction.
Recovery changed my mindset completely, creating one of personal accountability, deep introspection and understanding, and a total retooling of my value system.
It changed my trajectory and allowed me to rebuild my self-respect and self-esteem—something I couldn’t do until I understood how I’d lost it in the first place.
The California Dreaming series isn’t about promoting cavalier drug use.
While a certain number of people can use drugs recreationally, many cannot.
And the reality is that no one knows, when they start, what their outcome will be.
I wasn’t addicted to all drugs; I didn’t even like most of them.
But cocaine almost cost me my life. With alcohol, the same writing was on the wall.
Recovery programs suggest addiction stems from a variety of malaise: spiritual, mental, and/or physical.
Significant things occurred in the first eighteen years of my life that I believe contributed to me latching onto these coping mechanisms. Alcoholism also runs rampant on my father’s side going back generations.
Regardless of the why, seeking recovery was one hundred percent my responsibility.
I had to want it more than I wanted to be numbed.
Denial is one of the strongest negators of reality I’ve ever seen and experienced.
But when my moment of clarity came, I latched on and never let go.
I wish I could report this is common, but forty percent or less are successful at recovery.
The call of addiction is incredibly strong—absolutely like a monkey on your back—always whispering, justifying, coaxing.
Many relapse repeatedly. Some will eventually find their footing.
Some never will. Some will lose everything.
Many will alienate everyone close to them, breaking the hearts of their family and friends.
I’m grateful I’ve stayed firmly planted in sobriety from day one because drugs eventually took others in my circle to jails, hospitals, and early graves.
I have not had a drink or drug since April 14, 1989.
I hope this series highlights addiction in a way that feels realistic, poignant, authentic, and cautionary.
Addiction affects many (and its outlets are prolific: alcohol, drugs, food, sex, gambling, spending, and potentially any activity that releases beta endorphins), and it’s often misunderstood.
Families of afflicted loved ones don’t understand why they continue choosing to use—but those outside an addict’s mind can never understand the stronghold addiction wields.
Coupled with the brain’s incredible forcefield of denial, it’s a miracle any of us make it out.
If you know someone suffering from addiction, I hope this book and my words bring you some clarity, understanding, or validation.
If you are suffering from addiction, please know help is available.
Make the call. Go to a meeting. Godspeed.
And if blessed with a moment of clarity, act right away, because the window will close quickly and leave you behind without a second thought—and there’s no telling when or if it will open again.