Vice is a fluxating undulating snake of a good time or at least in the beginning. In the beginning it is always nice.
I would set the alarm an hour early just so I could get some. I never dared do it at work. When I would get back home in the afternoon the first thing I would do was turn on my computer and hit the solitaire icon. I had 660 games but I only played the one. Rouge et Noir; it was the best. I was manic. Fixated. I wanted to win. I believed that it was only a matter of time. I was a good player but this game was difficult; my wins never pushed past the 44%. If he won more than me I would become upset, start thinking that I was a loser, a mediocre human.
It was almost as bad as when I got stuck on the murder mystery books. I wouldn’t leave the house except to meet my therapist. Scrouched on her sofa she would ask me, how are you feeling today. And, biting the skin around my nails I would tell her. Doc, I’m a mess. I can’t take it anymore. I can barely leave the house. I can’t put the books down. At night I say to myself just one more page, one more page and I keep reading and reading and reading until the morning light. Exhausted I trudge through my day, irate at having to deal with people, strangers, the telephone. I just want to stay home and read. The worst is when I finish the book; I become upset, start thinking that I am a loser, a mediocre human.
My dealer, who wasn’t much of a dealer so much as he was a user, lived upstairs. He once told me- whatever gets you through the day. Well. I didn’t want to live like that- to get through the day.
Heroin and solitaire were dispassionate unplanned book-ends. Interspersed were journeys to other exotic lands. In fact, the geographic solution has always been one of my favourite stand by’s. Setting up house really did feel like I was starting new, that I would make things different this time, that I would be stronger, braver, more honest, harder working.
Vice in its chosen form is often a symbolic representation of one’s desire or there lack of. Habit has a seductive ravenous consumption of time. And settling, like vice, takes many forms.
It’s okay. It’s just a game. That’s what I told myself.
Be wary of the mundane as of the terrifying.