me part trois.

I enjoyed my home schooling teacher. I probably did better in school those few months then any other time in my school career. I would like to think that during this time I tried to straighten out my life, but I was 13 or 14 and wanted to have fun. I spent time cleaning the house and there is something I will never forget about that: Leigh Anne had me clean all of the floor boards in the house one day; man was that fun. In the family we had problems. It seemed that all we would do is argue about, well, anything. I don't believe I was using too many drugs or drinking that much at this time; because I was so closely monitored.

After that summer I was able to go back to school and I would be beginning high school at Forsyth Central High School. After just a short while being in school I met a couple of people who were into what I was and I got quickly introduced back to weed. I was so eager to get high that I would try it while I was at school, it couldn't wait. I had a big mouth when I was in 9th grade and I wanted everyone to know that I did drugs, even if I wasn't doing them as much as I said. One day in health class I got some weed from one of my friends and made a make shift pipe to smoke out of. I took the pot and the pipe and headed to the bathroom. I got nervous and only took one hit and then went back to class. I acted stoned although I hadn't been. Over the next couple of days I showed people this "pipe" I had so that I would look cool. While I was sitting in science class one day the assistant principal came in to pull me out of class. He told me to bring all of my things with me. As we were walking to his office I fell behind a bit and dropped the "pipe" on the ground in attempt to not be busted. It didn't work. He heard the thump and I was done for.

After all of the tribunal and drug testing was over I was sentenced to attend Piedmont Learning Center for the remainder of my 9th grade year. While I was there I spent time drinking on the weekends when I could but not doing drugs because of the random drug testing. Although when I finally had the chance to, I did. During winter break I was able to get high and it was almost as if I met a long lost friend. I played it cool the rest of the year at Piedmont and made my way out of there.

During that year I made a decision that would forever change the way I felt about life. My family and I were still attending church and I was getting pretty into it. I loved the music. There was so much life in it and the feeling I got while they were singing was like nothing I had ever experienced. I remember one time at an event my dad and I would go to on Tuesday nights they sang "Marvelous Light" and it just made sense. There were a few things that took place around this time of my ninth grade year that lead me to make a decision. Accept Jesus Christ as the saviour and forgiver of my life or just say no to it. I chose yes. I was happy about it and I believe that it kept me away from the things that were hurting me. If only for a short while.

I actually think it was on the day of my baptism that I met him, who will not be named, but he would become my best friend the summer after ninth grade. While we were at church one day the two of us began to talk about what we liked to do and found out that we both were interested in weed. That evening I went to his house to hang out and found my "old friend" again. In a cow pasture while sitting in a tree I got high. It was the most amazing feeling I had felt up to that moment of my life. I loved every second of it and I NEVER wanted it to go away. I chose to spend a lot of time at his house that summer, and spent most of that time getting stoned. It was perfect. Life was great.

When school started in tenth grade I decided I wanted to start playing baseball again because it was something I enjoyed doing the few years before. I was out of the loop a little bit because of being in alternative school in 9th grade so I went to workouts after school. My friend who I got stoned with all summer long also played baseball. We talked our parents into letting us go to baseball workouts after school on Mondays and then I would go to Young Life with him and spend the night at his house. After Young Life we would stay up most of the night, do drugs and watch Dazed and Confused countless times. The weekends would begin with a Friday night smoke and it wasn't until Sunday morning that I would no longer be stoned. On Sundays I would go to church in the morning with the parents and then go to the youth group on Sunday afternoons. I had made some friends in my small group who I can still call my friends today. They never left my side through all the years of high school. No matter what I was doing. There I was, stuck with a crisis. Being a Christian and loving getting stoned.

Things began to fall apart in the house. I imagine my parents knew I was doing drugs before I knew that they knew. We would argue about all sorts of things. I remember one time that they did catch onto my drug use, and I was grounded. Although, one time I was able to go to hang out with my buddies who used as long as I didn't use. I promised and begged. Being the little s*^% that I was, I got more messed up that night than I ever had, after promising I wouldn't. It wasn't a bad thing to me, it is exactly what I wanted. Ever time I would use drugs the goal was to get higher and more stoned than the time before. The idea of being into heavy drugs was attractive to me. The problem was that I could only get my hands on pills and weed. It was cool though, smoking weed and listening to Pink Floyd, Sublime and Bob Marley was alright with me.

I remember having a conversation with my friend about Crystal Meth. "Dude, would you try it?"

"I don't know man, maybe, that stuff is pretty heavy."

Eventually he would try it. He told me about it and it sounded pretty alright. I asked him if the next time he had some if I could do it with him. He agreed. We got such a little bit for the both of us that it was almost worthless. I remember being at an old southern baptist church event that they put on each year, I believe the church was Oak Grove. We went into the bathroom and tried a little bit and it was so little that we felt no affects. Later that night we both snorted the rest and still felt little affects from it. But, we did it. We were happy about that. We became annoyed, we wanted more so we could really get high from it, but we couldn't get any. We chose to get my bowl and scrap it to try and get some of the residue from the previous weed that had been smoked in it. We spent a while smoking that and getting a little bit high. All in all, a pretty crappy night for us. We didn't sleep and I think my dad noticed that we looked a little rough the next morning.

I'm not sure what the timeline was, but not long after that I was introduced to a drug counselor. The same one from 8th grade. This time though, I would be joining their out patient drug treatment program. It was the first night that I had started and I was asked the question, "how long have you been clean?" I said well, "less than 24 hours, I got high last night." By the end of that night my parents and the counselors had found a nice in-patient drug rehabilitation center for me to go to in just a week, in Washington.

The next week I was taken out of school and slept at the foot of my parents bed every night until it was time time to go to rehab. I would listen to Pink Floyd at night, just trying to get that same feeling I got from weed, but it didn't compare. I was still able to smoke cigarettes which helped quite a bit.

In November of 2005 my dad and I got onto a plane to fly to Portland, Oregon so that we could drive to Yakima, Washington so that he could check me into my home for the next month; the youth drug addiction treatment at Sundown M. Ranch. http://www.sundown.org/