High on life, that’s a phrase a bunch of my friends and I use to describe us. We often comment on how it’s great to be able to soar to new heights just by giving ourselves over the things we experience in life. At the same time, we wonder why it is that so many don’t understand. Allow me to elaborate.
There are those who feel that in order to get a “rush” out of life, one must introduce some sort of chemical, natural or otherwise, to their system. When my friends and I try to explain that we don’t feel the need to drink and so we don’t, those who view drinking as the source of a good time shake their heads in confusion. And when we shake ours over how so many lose themselves to drug addictions, many of which began as a means to “have a good time,” there are people who insist that the only way to heighten one’s joyful experiences is to indulge in drugs.
I don’t get it. Honest to goodness, I don’t understand. Well, that’s not entirely true. I suppose that on some level, I comprehend the need some feel to dull their pain and suffering, mental, emotional or physical, with the use of drugs. And when that dosage no longer does the trick or their prescription runs out, they seek other sources through which to supply themselves with the item that helps them diminish whatever it is they’re enduring.
But what about the individuals who are rolling through life, it working out pretty well for them, and then they get invited to try drugs. Why would they want to? With all that’s known about drugs, the dangers, their addictive qualities, etc, why would anyone want to mess up what they already have and risk losing it—along with so much more—just for a few moments, minutes or hours of artificial chemical-induced “bliss?”
Really, I guess that’s the core from which my lack of understanding stems—the whole artificial chemical-induced bliss. The happiness drugs induce is not real. Not to mention, drugs are illegal. Put a financial drain on one’s pocketbook. Can ruin your health. Make you a slave to them. And, if allowed, drugs can and will ruin your life.
To me, accepting an offer to do drugs ranks right up there with being in an airplane, having two parachutes offered to you, one of which you’re informed the chords have been cut, and told to chose which one you want to jump out of the plane with. If it were me, I wouldn’t choose either chute! Instead, I’d sit my rear back down on the plane and wait till we landed to exit. To do anything other is beyond risky and equivalent to playing Russian roulette.
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