Excerpts

From Postcards from the Edge: Suzanne< DAY ONE Maybe I shouldn't have given the guy who pumped my stomach my phone number, but who cares? My life is over anyway. Besides, what was I supposed to do? He came up to my room and gave me that dumb stuffed animal that looks like a thumb, and there I was lying in bed twelve hours after an overdose. I wasn't feeling my most attractive. I'd thrown up scallops and Percodan on him the night before in the emergency room. I thought that it would be impolite to refuse to give him my number. He probably won't call, anyway. No one will ever call me again. DAY TWO I was up all night with my head full of frightening, chattering thoughts, walking around and around the halls. After about the sixth spin I stopped waving at the night nurse and just kept my head down. One of the therapists came in to admit me and asked how long I'd been a drug addict. I said that I didn't think I was a drug addict because I didn't take any one drug. "Then you're a drugs addict," she said. She asked if I had deliberately tried to kill myself. I was insulted by the question. I guess when you find yourself having overdosed, it's a good indicator that your life isn't working. Still, it wasn't like I'd planned it. I'm not suicidal. My behavior might be, but I'm certainly not. Tomorrow I get out of detox and start group. I hate my life. DAY THREE All of the therapists here seem to be former addicts. They have this air of expertise. Drug addicts without drugs are experts on not doing drugs. I talked to this girl Irene at lunch who's been here two weeks, and she said that in the beginning your main activity is a nonactivity in that you simply don't do drugs. That's what we're all doing here: Not Drugs. The woman who admitted me, Julie, is my therapist. I don't know if I like her or not, but I want to like her. I have to like her, because the way she is is probably the way I'm going to be. I need to make an ideal of someone who did drugs and now doesn't. Three people here -- Carl, Sam, and Irene -- have been to prison. We also have Sid, a magazine editor, and Carol, an agent's wife, and several others whose names I'm not sure of yet. Most of them are here for cocaine or free-base, but there's also a sizable opiate contingent. The cocaine people sleep all the time, because by the time they get here, they haven't slept in weeks. We opiates have been sleeping a lot, so now we roam the halls at night, twitching through our withdrawals. I think there should be ball teams: the Opiates vs. the Amphetamines. The Opiates scratch and do hand signals and nod out, and the Amphetamines run around the bases and scream. There are no real rules to the game, but there are plenty of players. Tomorrow afternoon after the cocaine video, the nurse takes everyone who's not in detox on a Sunday outing to the park. DAY FOUR It was nice being outside. You feel less like you're being punished and more like a normal citizen. It's hard not to feel like an outcast in a drug clinic, but then it's hard not to feel like an outcast, period. I seem to be the only one here who had their stomach pumped. It's an interesting distinction. Carl and I shared a blanket in the park. He's a fifty-five-year-old black grounds keeper and a would-be ex-free-base addict. He looks like a burnt mosquito. I asked him how he could afford to be here and he said he's on his wife's health insurance. Carl talked so much in the park that I thought I was going to kill myself. His main topic, of all things, was drugs. He talked about cooking up the rock and the feel of the free-base pipe, and how he'd make enough money from Tuesday to Friday to free-base all weekend. I asked him what he took to come down, and he said he didn't like downers. He said, "Shoot, those drugs don't do nothin' but constipate me." The fat guy Sid seems really smart. He's in for lodes. I asked him what lodes were and his eyes started to shine. When addicts talk about their drug of choice, it's almost transcendental. He said, "You've been a downer freak and you don't know what lodes are?" It turns out lodes are four strong painkillers combined with one weird sleeping pill, which produces an effect like heroin along with a stomach addiction, which Sid had. I can't believe I missed that drug. The weird thing about all this is that I had been straight for months -- the whole time I was filming Sleight of Head in London and all through my vacation. But then I got home and BOOM! four weeks of drugs. I hated it, I even wanted to stop, but I just couldn't. It was like I was a car, and a maniac had gotten behind the wheel. I was driven, and I didn't know who was driving. DAY FIVE I let Irene cut my hair today. It's kind of horrible. She's only twenty, and her skin is all broken out from PCP and heroin. I got so absorbed listening to her stories of blackouts and arrests for prostitution that I didn't notice how badly the haircut was actually going. Julie is so cheerful I want to punch her. And two guys who get out of here next week, Roger and Colin, almost swagger. They've got it all over us, because they haven't done drugs in almost a month. They really know how to not do drugs now. Big fish in a little rehab. I feel so agitated all the time, like a hamster in search of a wheel. I'm consumed with panic that everyone will find out about this and hate me, or laugh at me, or worst of all, feel sorry for me. Pity me for taking my Everything-That-a-Human-Can-Possibly-Be-Offered and turning it into scallops and Percodan on the emergency room floor. I can see where people would think that my life is great, so why can't I feel it? It's almost like I've been bad and I'm being punished by rewards -- this self-indulgent white chick whose inner voice says, "Look how spoiled you are. Go on, have another great thing. What are you gonna do about it, huh? What are you gonna do about it?" The thing about having it all is, it should include having the ability to have it all. Maybe there are some people who know how to have it all. They're probably off in a group somewhere, laughing at those of us who have it all but don't know how to. The positive way to look at this is that from here things can only go up. But I've been up, and I always felt like a trespasser. A transient at the top. It's like I've got a visa for happiness, but for sadness I've got a lifetime pass. I shot through my twenties like a luminous thread through a dark needle, blazing toward my destination: Nowhere. DAY SIX This is hard -- I feel like I've got bugs flying around inside of me. I called my friend Wallis today, and I tried to get the operator to say, "Collect call from hell, will you accept the charges?" After not feeling anything for years, I'm having this Feeling Festival. The medication wears off and the feelings just fall on you. And they're not your basic fun feelings, either. These are the feelings you've been specifically avoiding -- the ones you almost killed yourself to avoid. The ones that tell you you're something on the bottom of someone's shoe, and not even someone interesting. I talked to my agent and ended up in tears, which is not my favorite presentation of myself. Crying to my agent. I tried very hard not to, but I didn't have a chance. I've used up all the Not Cry I was issued at birth. Now, it appears, it's crying time. I talked to my mom briefly. I was afraid that she'd be mad at me for messing up the life she'd given me, but she was very nice. She said a great thing. I told her I was miserable here, and she said, "Well, you were happy as a child. I can prove it. I have films." What went wrong between what she gave me and how I took it? DAY SEVEN How old do you have to be to get past caring? Sid looked over at me during lunch and said, "You look so unhappy." I was sort of startled, since the picture of myself that I carry around in my wallet of a head is of a peppy, happy-go-crazy gal. I keep my eye on this picture when evidence to the contrary is all around me. How could I have gotten all this so completely wrong? I'm smart. I guess I used the wrong parts of my brain, though -- the parts that said, "Take LSD and painkillers. This is a good idea." I was into pain reduction and mind expansion, but what I've ended up with is pain expansion and mind reduction. Everything hurts now, and nothing makes sense. DAY EIGHT Drama in Drug Ward Six! Irene got kicked out of the unit for smoking dope in her room. She offered some to Carol, the agent's wife, and Carol came to me crying and asked me what she should do. I told her we should turn Irene in, so we told Stan, the therapist who was on duty. Stan called Irene in, and she had this real defiant look on her face, like she'd been caught doing something noble for her country and now she was going to be killed for it. Carol was crying and I was sitting and holding her hand. Stan said, "Irene, we hear you've been smoking dope." Irene said, "Well, I didn't know where I was gonna be when I moved out of here, if I was gonna go to a halfway house or whatever, and I was confused so I smoked dope." Stan said, "There are a thousand excuses and finally no reasons to do drugs." Most of the people in here share the desire to seem cool. They can be aching from heroin withdrawal, but ask how they are and they'll say, "Pretty good, man. Hangin' in there." The answer comes too quickly, and hovering over a grin, a look of desperate loneliness gazes across the abyss. The only thing worse than being hurt is everyone knowing that you're hurt. DAY NINE So, essentially I could have died. Not only this time but probably several times, forgetting how much I took and when I took it, not to mention why I took it. Was I celebrating, or drowning my sorrows? Or celebrating my sorrows? The junkies were up in arms this morning. Half of them wouldn't speak to Carol and me because we snitched on Irene. The other half thought it was pretty stupid for anyone to have smoked dope at a drug rehab. They had to call a special little group session to defuse things. These aren't people with a good handle on their emotions, and without their chemical coping skills it's every man for himself. It doesn't run hot and cold here, it runs hot and hotter. Bart, the homosexual triple Scorpio, called me an asshole in the Ping-Pong room. It turns out Irene got the dope from one of the cleaning men who she was fucking in the stairwell during lunch. My kind of people. DAY TEN Three new people checked in today. Marvin, a retired bus driver in his fifties, is probably here for alcoholism. Wanda is a heroin addict who says she's a model and brought the makeup to prove it. And Mark is a crazy kid from Vacaville -- I don't know what his drug of choice is, but I don't think it matters anymore. This is a cross section of village idiots from all over the state. Everyone you ever would have thought was too loaded at a party is in one place. After group, Bart apologized for calling me an asshole and told me a story about the time that he spilled amyl nitrate on his testicles and his balls melted into the sheets, and he had to take the sheets and his balls to the hospital and have them separated. I told him it was a great idea for a TV movie. We had lunch and watched The Outer Limits. Drug addicts pretty much all have the same taste in shows: science fiction and MTV. It's so bizarre. Everyone is acting like where we are is sort of normal, and we're in a drug clinic. DAY ELEVEN The new people came out of detox today and joined our group. Marvin said he wasn't an alcoholic, but he likes it here. He thinks all of us are interesting. It's like he's on a field trip for Psychology Today, or a segment of Bloopers, Blumpers and Bleepers where they send a healthy person to blend in with a wardful of addicts just to see if anybody notices. Wanda was in the hospital recovering from a suicide attempt (carbon monoxide in her car). She called her dealer to bring her heroin because she couldn't sleep. She overdosed in the hospital, so they just transferred her down here. Mark was brought in by his parole officer directly from Vacaville. He's nineteen, and he looks like he's been on medication of some kind for most of his life. His blond hair is greasy and parted down the middle, and he has very wild eyes. When he walks down the hallways, he hugs the walls, which Carl says is a prison thing. Mark has already been in jail for three years for resisting arrest and assaulting a police officer, and now he's in a drug clinic. His father came in today to bring him some clothes. He seemed disappointed at the way Mark's turned out. My mom is probably sort of disappointed at how I turned out, but she doesn't show it. She came by today and brought me a satin and velvet quilt. I'm surprised that I was able to detox without it. I was nervous about seeing her, but it went okay. She thinks I blame her for my being here. I mainly blame my dealer, my doctor, and myself, and not necessarily in that order. She didn't like my hair very much, but pretended to. She said it was "interesting." She thinks my life would work better if I got a new business manager. She washed my underwear and left. In the last few years I've become an accepted eccentric at best, and a fuckup at worst. I feel like I'll let people down if I take away the behavior they've grown accustomed to disapproving of. They try to discipline me, I refuse to be disciplined. They object, I'm objectionable. We all know exactly what to do. Julie talked to us today about the family and friends of the addict, the Alanons. She said they become very caught up in the whole downward spiral of watching the alcoholic slowly die. It can become their whole lives. Addicted to addicts. "It's like an Alanon jumps out the window and someone else's life flashes in front of their eyes," said Sid. I wished I'd said that, but then, I probably will. I keep thinking that if I could marry somebody, this would be less embarrassing. I'm so jealous of Carol because she has a husband. It makes it seem less final that she's here. It gives her something to go back to, someone to be with, and someone to be. I have no situation that requires me to be more than I am. It just seems like when you get two people together, and one's in a suit and one's in a dress, how could they be unhappy? Unless their kid murdered another kid or something. I envy people who have the capacity to sit with another human being and find them endlessly interesting. I would rather watch TV. Of course, this eventually becomes known to the other person. I once told Jonathan that I would pay more attention to him if he got better programming. It always seems that in the beginning with someone, nothing they do could ever be wrong, except that they don't see you enough. And eventually it gets to the point where you just want to say, "Get off my leg, okay?" What's the difference? No one would marry me with this haircut, anyway. DAY TWELVE This boy Brian was checked in this morning by his mother and his aunt. He wore a red knit hat and stunk of beer. He was about eighteen years old, and he did not want to be in a drug clinic. He had a concert to go to Wednesday night. Brian's brother was killed last year in a car accident. He was lying in the street and someone released the brake on a car, and it rolled over him because he was too loaded to get out of the way. They sent Carol and Bart and me to convince Brian to stay. He said he was impressed that someone like me actually stayed in the clinic, and that he wanted to be an actor, but he couldn't be persuaded to stay. He said he was too young to stop drinking and drugging. All his friends did it. He knew he was probably an alcoholic -- he drank all day and smoked a lot of dope, and did cocaine when he could get it -- and he knew that his brother had, in effect, died of it. Still, he couldn't handle what it meant to be in a drug unit. He wouldn't examine it. It was too heavy and it was definitely too hard. It couldn't be true, therefore it wasn't. And so he split. The whole thing made me think. I used up so much energy explaining why I was late, why I didn't show up, how I wasn't really loaded, I was just tired, I had jet lag. Avoiding looking people in the eyes because I couldn't stand how I felt when I saw the disappointment in their faces. That ate up a lot of energy. If I could accept that I'm a drug addict, I could have all that energy back. So, I'm a drug addict. I guess we're allowed just so many drugs in one lifetime, and I've used up my coupon. From here on out, there's just reality. I think that's what maturity is: a stoic response to endless reality. But then, what do I know? DAY THIRTEEN This is not necessarily where I envisioned myself when I was young. I didn't stand up in school and say, "My goal when I'm older is to be in a drug hospital, eating cafeteria food and watching The Outer Limits and fighting in group therapy and playing volleyball in the park and not dealing with my feelings." I talked to Thomas on the phone today. He said he's been trying to reach me, but the line is always busy -- it's a pay phone. Thomas sounded so calm, so okay, so not me. Somehow I absorbed the world's genetic horror, while my brother inherited the sweetness and patience of someone who befriends birds. He's one of the few people who, when you ask how he is and he says fine, you don't question it. It reminds me of the scene in The Exorcist when the priest looks into the devil inside the possessed girl and cries, "Take me!" and the devil leaves the girl and enters the priest. It's like I'm an exorcist, taking all the darkness and letting it gather inside me, while Thomas absorbs -- well, maybe not light, but certainly lighter colors. There's some sad buoyance in him. He ambles and strolls, moving through life in smooth easy motions. I told him that the great thing about having me as a sister is that I make him look even better by supplying him with contrast. He said, "The really great thing about having you as a sister is that you're the only adult I know that keeps a bowl of Tootsie Rolls for her guests." I don't know why, but this made me feel better. Sid said that drugs weren't the problem, life was the problem. Drugs were the solution. I think Sid has a crush on me. He gets me up in the morning by coming into my room and holding my feet until I'm totally awake. I like having my feet held, even if it is by Sid. Marvin still doesn't think he's an alcoholic. Mark showed me his letter from Manson today. It didn't seem to make much sense -- something about redwood trees. Mark says Manson is deeply misunderstood and a "cool guy." DAY FOURTEEN Today Mark threatened Sid's life. Nobody quite knows what happened, but Mark was given Haldol, an antipsychotic. Now he has all this mung in the side of his mouth, and he looks wilder than ever. Carol and Wanda say they're going to put trash cans in front of their doors tonight, because there are no locks in drug clinics. Carl's mad at me because I gave him ten dollars to shut up. He says I'm a spoiled movie actress and I don't know the first thing about real life. Maybe he's right. Sometimes I feel like I've got my nose pressed up against the window of a bakery, only I'm the bread. DAY FIFTEEN A lady came in today to beef up our spirituality, AA-style. She told us a couple of great stories. First, she explained why people who bring us into AA are called Eskimos. There was this guy named Harvey, sitting in a bar up in Alaska. Another guy, Tony, came into the bar and started talking to the bartender about God. Harvey said to Tony, "Do you believe all that stuff?" Tony said, "Yeah, I do," and Harvey said, "Aaah, I tried that God stuff. It's a bunch of crock." Tony said, "What do you mean? What happened?" So Harvey said, "Well, I was in this really, really bad snowstorm. I mean, I'd been lost for days and I was dying. I was desperate. Finally, I dropped to my knees and prayed. I said, 'God, if you're up there, please get me out of here. Save me!' " "Then Harvey stopped talking, so Tony said, "Well, what happened?" And Harvey said, scornfully, "Oh, nothing. An Eskimo came and got me out." Then she told us this story of how her first AA sponsor had gotten this horrible kind of cancer, and her sponsor believed in God. So this lady couldn't understand how she could believe in a God who would make her suffer like that. And her sponsor said, "God never gives us any more than we can handle, so if he gives you a lot to handle, take it as a compliment. It's because he believes that you can handle a lot." It was such a powerful thought, I wanted to brand it into my brain. When I got back to my room, there were flowers from the guy who pumped my stomach. The note said that he could tell I was a very sensitive person. I'd have to be sensitive to need all that Percodan. I'm tempted to marry him, just to be able to tell people how we met. ALEX ...That's it, I've quit. This time I've really quit. I'm not doing cocaine anymore. If someone came up and offered me cocaine I wouldn't do it. I doubt that anyone will offer it to me, though. No one offers cocaine anymore. It used to be a way that people got friendly, sharing a few toots, but now everyone hoards their cocaine. My first party without drugs. Interesting. I mean, when I was a little kid I always went to birthday parties straight, but that was a while ago. I wonder if anyone here even has any cocaine. That guy Steve looks like he might, he usually has some. I loathe that guy, but he always has great cocaine... No, I promised myself I would not do any cocaine, because that last time was such a nightmare and...But it was fun in the beginning. Sometimes it's fun. I don't know, Freud took it, so how bad could it be? But this is the new me. I'm totally on a health kick. I have not taken any cocaine in four days. I don't even like it anymore. I never really did like it, I just did it 'cause it was around. And I don't think I was really heavy into it, not like Steve over there. Steve is really, really into cocaine. I would say he's got a problem. He can't stop. Well, sometimes he stops for a while, but he can't stay stopped. I really think I can. I think I have willpower, I just haven't used it in a while. I've been kind of on a willpower break, but now I feel it's coming back. I really think I can stay with this commitment of not doing cocaine. Besides, this healthy life is great. I really love this being straight. You know, you see people jogging and you think, "Yuuucccchh," but I'm getting on. I'm in my late twenties, and I think taking drugs was all part of being young. I don't think I had a problem, I think I was just young. And that by definition isn't a problem, it's just a point in your life when it seems okay to take a lot of cocaine. And then that point passes. I don't know, I think it was the bad relationship I was in that really determined my drug intake. And now Joan's left me, and I really feel good about myself. I mean I want to. And I went to that juice bar today and bought chlorophyll juice, that green drink. It gave me diarrhea, but I really feel good tonight. And I feel like it's a beginning. You go to a place like that and you buy the chlorophyll juice and the carrot juice, and you're making a statement. And I bought some new sneakers, I'm gonna start running...I actually got up at nine thirty this morning and moved my exercise bike right next to my bed, so tomorrow morning I know I'm just gonna hop on that cycle. Ten minutes is enough for aerobics, I guess. And then maybe I'll go to that Canyon Ranch health spa. Maybe then I could meet a really great girl. I think if I meet someone who doesn't do drugs, then we won't do them together, obviously, and that'll really help me. I think all of these choices reflect where you're at with you. The only thing that bothers me is the idea of giving it up completely. I should be able to celebrate every now and again. Like if I stay straight for a while, I should be able to celebrate by getting loaded. I don't see what's wrong with that. Steve does that, but Steve has a problem. I think that once I get this under control, I'll be able to do it. And I really feel like I've made a strong beginning. God, my stomach is upset from that juice, though. I wonder if everything good for you tastes awful. I hope not, because I'm really gonna get into it. Steve looks kind of loaded now. That looks so awful. You see people and they're loaded and...Look how dumb it looks. That looks so stupid. I can't believe I ever did it. I feel so good about being on the other side of it now. It really erodes your self-esteem to make a decision like not taking drugs and then taking them. The thing is, I also think you can take a little bit, and not do it to excess. Not everybody can -- obviously there are some personality types who can't do anything a little bit -- but I'm not one of those. There are certain areas of my life where I do a very little bit, and I think if I practice, one of those areas could be cocaine. Well, maybe not cocaine, but maybe I could take a speed pill every so often. I love what speed and coke do to my weight. It's unnatural, I know. I could just exercise... God, there's that great feeling right at the beginning. If you get some good coke. From now on, I'm just gonna do good coke. When I do it, I'm gonna make sure. I'll never go to the dealer in Brentwood again. Never. I think that was the problem. His coke hurts your face, it becomes a chore to do it. I'll just do pharmaceutical, that's not hard on the membrane, and I really want to take care of my body. I think I'm unusual, because even during all those years when I was doing drugs, I still sometimes went to the gym. Joan accused me of trying to maintain my body so I could destroy it with chemicals, but I think that's a little harsh. And even if I did, I'm certainly better off than someone like Steve, who's just frying himself and eating burgers and sugar. I eat no carcinogenic food, I'm drinking some juices now...I went overboard today, but... I'm tired. Who's that girl? She's attractive...Aauugggh, I don't want to get into another relationship thing again. God, I'm so tired. I shouldn't be drinking. I shouldn't have started drinking, 'cause I associate the two, alcohol and cocaine. I'm just gonna not drink now. Oh, he sees me, he's coming over. I should ignore him so he gets that I'm not interested in doing any -- "Hi, Steve, how ya doin'? Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. No, I feel okay. I don't look that bad. I have a stomach thing today. How are you? You seem very up. No, I'm...I'm not doing any right now. I've quit. Yeah. No, I feel great. No, I'm serious. What do you mean, that's not a great line reading? I feel great. I'm absolutely committed to this. No, I don't mean it like a judgment on you. I think it's fine that some people still do coke, you know? I don't think it's weak... "No, I don't think I had a problem. It's just that my nose started...I don't know. I'll probably end up still doing a little bit every so often, you know. Not right now. Maybe...well, like, maybe...I don't know, let me just...Is there food at this party? All right, maybe like a hit, but that's -- who is that girl over there? -- that's it, though. I'm gonna do...No, this is...I'm not...All right, give me one hit. But don't give me any more even if I ask you to. This is good coke, right? It's not from Brentwood? All right, one hit. "(sniff) Mmmmmhh! (sniff) Ooohhhh, fantastic. Oh, great. Shit, that's great! Mmmmhhhhh! It just burns a little bit. There's not much cut in it, right? Yeah? It's good. No, I really don't need any more. I mean, I can handle it, I just think that was it. You know, people come to a party and they do one hit to break the tension, and I think I can really master that now. I can do a little bit. "God, I feel so...I really feel good about my commitment to not doing drugs. I mean, just doing a little bit of drugs. Feel my arm. I feel really good. Well, I know I don't look that great, but I didn't sleep that much and I drank this bad juice. "Let's go over and talk to that girl. I wanna go over and talk to that girl. Who is that girl? Lisa what? What is she, an actress or something? I loathe actresses. She looks smart, though. Smart people always wear black. Who's the guy she's talking to? Craig? I wanna go talk to her. God, he's such a loser. I should talk to her, I'm like a real guy. I have to go talk to her. Give me another hit of that stuff, maybe I'll go talk to her. I know what I said, I know what I said. Just give me one more hit. What are you, stingy with the blow now? I'll help pay for it. I'm just gonna do it...Like, I'm gonna celebrate not doing it by doing a little bit. (sniff) Mmmmhh! (sniff) Yeesssss! "I wish there was something like holistic blow, you know what I mean? That there would be some way in nature you could take blow and it would be good for you. I wish my doctor would make me take it for some weird ailment I have. This is good coke, though. This is really good. How much did you pay for this? Not bad. That is not bad. And who did you get it from? Oh, yeah, I had some once from him that was so great. Remember the night we...Give me another hit. Give me one more hit. "(sniff) Aaaahhh! (sniff) Ooooww! No, it's not the coke, it's me. I had this cold last week. Actually, I think it was more my sinuses. I have a sinus problem, or I seem to more in the last couple of years. I don't know, I have to go to a doctor at some point. "Nah, I don't want to talk to that girl anyway. I wanna talk to you. I've missed you. I really feel like I can talk to you, I really feel we have a lot in common. I know we don't see each other much socially, but I've gotta say every time that we've spent time together, I've enjoyed it. Remember the night in Vegas when we met? You weren't actually dealing then, were you? Someone said you were a dealer once, I nearly punched the guy out. You're like a really good guy, man. I really like you. "Think we can get any more of this stuff? 'Cause, I mean, I'm quitting after tonight anyway because, I don't know, I should start taking care of myself. Whew, my heart is really palpitating. You think if I took one more hit it might calm me down a little bit? I know that sounds like a dumb cocaine question, but I think if you do a certain amount and then taper off, you can hit that peak and really be buzzing, you know, when you feel like the world is lined up just exactly right. God, I sure love life. Can I have another hit? "I think this is good for me -- to test my resistance. I mean, I think it's wimpy to give up cocaine. Master the drug, that's the key -- the total key to the whole thing. I mean, people who actually have to go and give it up -- it just shows they're weak. They go to groups like Cocaine Anonymous and those people, they always fuckin' talk about drugs. You know? It's like all they do is not do drugs. Well, man, I'd rather do drugs. Do you have another hit? "Man, this party's a drag. I don't know, I feel so agitated and, you know, itchy to...Can we go to your place? Hey, come over to mine. Well, let's just go outside then, let's walk around. There's nobody here that I like. God, look, they're eating. Uuggh, look at that shit, it looks awful. Come on, let's go outside and talk. "Did I ever tell you I graduated with honors from high school? Yeah, I was a real brainy kid. Very precocious. I don't know, I thought I'd go into writing because it interested me. But I gotta tell you, the environment at the networks is just not that exciting. I'd rather be in music, you know, but I don't play an instrument. Maybe I could learn, though. I feel now like I could learn an instrument. Do you play an instrument? That's interesting, that's very interesting. We both don't play any instruments. But, you know, I feel that you, like me, we have the spirit of musicians. You know, sitting around communicating. I think artists do that. "That girl in black, maybe she's an artist. I've always wanted to meet someone who wrote poetry and went to jazz clubs, and she'd draw me into her life and we'd become soulmates. I wonder if I have a soulmate. "Can I have some more blow? One more hit, 'cause I'm like really cresting now. Maybe we could just buy a little, what the hell? This is a party. I have not been getting loaded. This is a reason to celebrate. "(sniff) Aaaahh! (sniff) Ooohhh! There is like an edge on this, though, don't you think? Am I sweating? I look all right, don't I? I don't look paranoid, do I? Sometimes I get paranoid that I look paranoid. I don't want anyone to think I'm paranoid. It's not like I care what people think, but sometimes I do. I admit it. I'm a human being. I've always cared a little bit what people think. "But anyway, I like it when it's like this, you know, and we're just talking. This is a great conversation, man. We should be taping this. So, what do you do? You're writing? What are you writing about? Articles on stereo equipment. That's fascinating. So should we go buy some more of this blow? He's out? Well, let's go to Brentwood. No, that's true, he usually has shitty blow, but it's not that expensive and he's always there. "Are my gums bleeding? It feels like my gums are bleeding. I don't know why, I must have cut myself talking. Maybe we could get a lude, too, because I'm starting to feel very...unhappy. I don't mean unhappy, literally, but it's like I wanna be somewhere else but I don't know where I wanna be...let's go to Brentwood. Let's just, fuck it, let's go to Brentwood. Leave your car here, I'll drive you back later. How many toots do we have left? Shit, well, let's go to Brentwood. "God, I wish I hadn't had that wheatgrass juice, I feel awful. Shit, they really should give you instructions with health food. Anything taken to excess can be unhealthy, even healthy stuff. But forget about excess, I don't even think it's that good for you in moderation. Nothing green can be good for you, can it? Uuugghh! Give me some more. Let's just do the last hit, just so we can get into the car and get to the next stop. (sniff) (sniff). "What's the matter with you? You look tense. Are you okay? God, what time is it? Sometimes I get so nervous and I don't know why, you know? I heard this phrase once, 'contentless fear,' and I think that's what I have now. 'Cause there's no reason why I should be this jumpy. I mean, I'm comfortable with you, or I was comfortable with you. I'm sorry I'm talking so much. I don't know, it just must be the night. God, what a night. "Jesus! Where did that guy come from, I almost ran him over. Jesus! Jesus. Okay, okay, I am slowing down. I don't know, somehow it got up to seventy-five. Jesus. Let's do the rest of the blow in case we're stopped. What did you do, hog it all? "God, man. I should never have done this. I should never have done all this blow. I hate myself. Why did I do this? Now I have an upset stomach from the wheatgrass juice and the fuckin' thing with the blow. I wonder if that girl with the black dress is still at the...Here we are, this is his block. "I feel so dumb now. Why did I do that? Well, I didn't do anything dumb. It was probably the blow. That blow did burn a little bit. Now we'll get some better blow. I hope he has some good blow. I hope he has some blow. Maybe he has a lude, though. You know, if I could...Well, now I'm maybe in kind of a two-lude mode... "What do you mean, I'm talking to myself? Well, obviously I'm talking to myself. I can't talk to you. What do I have in common with someone who writes articles about stereo equipment? Jesus. "All right, let's just get inside, we'll get inside. How much cash do I have? Hundred and ten, a hundred and ten bucks, that's good. Maybe he'll take a check, that'd be okay. I don't like to do that, though. What if they... "Alex. It's Alex!" What is this asshole, deaf? "Hi! Hi, man, how ya doin'? Yeah, yeah, I know it's late. Yeah, well, we were just drivin' around and...You know Steve. Yeah. Well, can we come in? Thanks. "So, do you have any coke? Half a gram? What do you mean? I thought you were a dealer. Can you get more?" Oh, shit. Oh, shit! "Well, do you have any ludes or anything? I'm really on edge now, I'm so on edge. Well, yeah, get the half a gram, and see if...Whatever you have. Anything you have. I just want anything you have. And Steve wants whatever else there is." Goddamn it, why did I do this? Just give me that half a gram, and then I'll take the half a gram, and then I'll try and decide what to do. I've gotta figure out how I'm gonna get down...I don't want to be with these people. Who are these people? I loathe these people. Look at the skin on that guy, God, it's enough to drive anyone insane. What is that, a bug on the floor? Look at this place. God, what a dive. What a miserable dive. I hear people. Why do I always hear people? Wait, now, this is the coke, just calm down. What's the big deal? Just calm down. I can't believe this, I'm not gonna be able to drive. I feel like digging a hole in the carpet. Oh, Jesus. Oh, Jesus. Is that the sun coming up? No, it's probably just...It is, it's the streetlight. I just hope those birds don't come out. I'll kill myself, I will, I'll kill myself if those fuckin' birds come out. I've gotta have those ludes, gotta have a set of ludes just to get me down. Maybe I should check his medicine cabinet, but he's a dealer so wouldn't he be smart about that? Nah! "Can I use your bathroom?" I loathe this guy. Let's see, what's he got? Anacin. Afrin. Actifed. Lomotil -- sure, 'cause he's got the runs all the time from the baby laxative in his fuckin' blow. Percodan! Jesus! Two. Two's not usually enough, but fuck it, I'll take the two. Endo 333, oooh, my favorite. I better run the water so they don't hear me close this. Aaahh, that's good, that'll be good. I've taken so much blow, though. Two Percodan on all this blow won't even matter. Maybe I should go get health food...Tomorrow I'm really... That's it, man, this is it. I'm gonna remember this, I'm always gonna remember this. That I'm sitting here in Brentwood with two loser guys that I have nothing in common with, doing drugs and trying to make conversation. I could kill myself. I loathe my life. I'll never feel those Percodan. Goddamn it, I hope he's got some ludes. Please let him have ludes. "Oh, man, I feel a little better after going to the john. Hey, listen, man, you wouldn't have any ludes or anything? I mean, I know I asked you already, but I had like a very tense day. I had some bad wheatgrass juice and...I don't know, maybe it's an astrological thing, but... "Ecstasy? No, but I've heard of it. Yeah, right, who hasn't? Aren't you supposed to be with girls or something? Really? It just puts you in a good mood? Well, great, give me some. A good mood? Oh, great. No, no, I'm in a good mood now, I'm just in too strong of a mood. No, let's, let's...Give me one of those. Sorry, I didn't mean to grab. "Great! They're big, aren't they? Do you have anything to wash it down? Any tequila or anything? Yeah, beer's fine. Oh, wow. So how long do these take to kick in? No, not since that juice this afternoon. Really? That quick? What's in it, do you know? Somebody said there was heroin in it. Not this stuff? Okay, good, 'cause that's the one thing I don't wanna do. Well, one time I snorted some, but I would never do any needles. I really think that makes you a drug addict, and me, I'm like a neck-up person." I feel a little nauseous all of a sudden. It's probably the juice. "Hey, this is a nice place. I've never really noticed that you have a nice apartment. It's like, kind. I don't know if that's an appropriate way to describe decor, but it seems so...friendly. Particularly for a dealer's house. What is this music? This is fantastic music. Really? I usually hate Led Zeppelin. It's so interesting, so interesting. Do you mind if I lie down near the speakers? Do you have a pillow or anything?" God! I feel like I'm making such a fool of myself. I don't even know these guys and I love them. I guess it's gotta be the drug, but it doesn't seem like the drug. Maybe this is the Percodan. I know it's not good to mix so much, but this feels like such a good blend. Maybe this is exactly right. Maybe from now on I should only do a little cocaine, a couple of Percodan maybe, and then that Ecstasy, and listen to Led Zeppelin. And that'll be my recipe. Like when I've been good, like I have for the past whatever. I've been straight...I mean, I was drinking, but I don't count that. When I've been straight for this kind of a while and I really get on edge, the way to take it off is to be with these guys. I love these guys. I mean, I don't want to have sex with them, but that idea is not totally repellent to me, either. Steve, even though he has bad skin, is a great guy, and he's got an ass like a girl. I never noticed that before. Oh, I'm so happy. I think I've really turned this experience around. "Steve. Don't ever leave me. I can't imagine being separated from you people. Ever." I want to bond with them on some level. I want to show them how I feel. Maybe this is too excessive. Yeah, I should just get more into the music. That girl at the party in black...Even the party seems nice now. Maybe we should...No, I'd have to move. Maybe I could call the party and tell them to send the girl here. That would be perfect. I just feel at one with everything. I remember the time I took acid, and I took the wrong end of the cardboard and it never came on. Maybe this is like acid. But everything looks the same, it just looks nicer. Nicer to be with. Maybe I should decorate my apartment like this. My nose still hurts, though. Maybe I should never take cocaine again. Yeah, from now on I'll just take Ecstasy every so often. It's probably better for me. They only just made it illegal, so how bad could it be? And they haven't even said it's bad for you. They just don't really know yet what it does to you. How could I not have found this before? I'm so happy. Maybe I should just call the party and ask for that girl. What'd he say her name was? No, maybe I'll just...Is it rude to jerk off in people's houses? I'll just get up and... "No, no, no, I'm okay, man. I just wanna use your can. What? No, I've snorted heroin, but I would never shoot it. Oh, you would do it for me. Well, I suppose that doesn't count, then, right? But I wouldn't have to...? And it'd just be a little bit, right?" It seems like it would be good. Heroin's like the natural drug. I don't know, though. This is so weird. "You wouldn't do anything bad to me, would you? You have such a great expression on your face right now. All right, sure, I'll trust you. But just give me a little bit. And Steve, you're driving us back, right? Well, maybe I'll just crash here then. That's cool, right? I like Brentwood." I can't believe this. I'm tying off. This is so weird. I never thought I would do this. But I'm just gonna do it once. "Okay." Oh, my God! Now I understand everything. This is so intensely great. Smack. It sounds like a breakfast cereal. It sure doesn't feel like a breakfast cereal. Shit, I love this. It's like floating down the Nile in your mind. Deep sea diving in your head. This must be well-being. Does this make me a drug addict? No, I'm just celebrating tonight. What a great night this is. I'll never do cocaine again. Uh-uh. Maybe a little Ecstasy, a little heroin, but I'll never do cocaine again. And I'm gonna start working out tomorrow. I'm gonna start an aerobic workout tomorrow on my bike. Maybe tomorrow afternoon. I wish I'd never had that wheatgrass juice, though. I feel sort of nauseous. "Oops, sorry, man. Let me clean it up." God, that was the easiest puke I've ever had. I wish I could have always thrown up that way. That felt almost good. "Sure, take my car. I'll wait here. I'll just...be...here..." What a nice, kind apartment this is. I think everyone should just love each other. That's what I think. I don't know when I've felt this rested. I've never truly been relaxed. I'm finally relaxed. I feel like Jesus slipped me in the pocket of his robe, and we're walking over long, long stretches of water. My parents were so fabulous to have had me. This is just...everything. My teeth feel so soft. This is why people take this. It wouldn't even be so bad to die of really good heroin. I wouldn't mind just living two more weeks and dying at the end of it if I could have two weeks like this. Although it would be much better to have years and years. I don't think you can even call this a drug. This is just a response to the conditions we live in. I wonder what that art student at the party is doing. She had such soft, silky hair. She seemed so invested in everything, like the now was exactly where she wanted to be. And now I know how she feels. This is perfect. If she were here now, it would be like Adam and Eve. We would make this the Garden of Eden, this apartment. Anywhere we were would be the Garden of Eden. And I could really communicate with my heart. It's just a question of finding the right person. If she were here now, I would just hold her and hold her and hold her, like we were twins waiting to be born out of this apartment in Brentwood. She's probably my soulmate. What if I met my soulmate and now I'll never see her again? But we met and kissed on the astral plane. We flew in the astral plane, and now I'm flying toward her. If she's my soulmate, and I truly believe she is, we'll meet again. We're always meeting. There is no meeting for soulmates. They're always together and never apart. We'll have a child, and we'll bring it up on heroin so that it'll have a happy childhood. And I'll buy her lots and lots of black shirts and sweaters. And she'll play the bongo drums in a jazz club in the East Village, while I recite stream-of-consciousness poetry that everyone thinks is brilliant. I am brilliant. I'm everything. Sometimes I wonder if I really am Jesus, but I just haven't grown into it yet. I wonder what color Jesus's eyes were. And if he needed glasses. He had the sweetest face... Copyright © 1987 by Carrie Fisher Excerpted from Postcards from the Edge by Carrie Fisher All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.