The name of a girl I once knew has haunted me recently, so I decided to look her up and see how she is. I'd known Lianne from junior high and high school, and I had always admired her sunny disposition, thick blonde hair, and personality. After high school, we worked together at Round the Corner Restaurant, and she was one of the reasons I decided to work there. She was kind, friendly, and caring. And she even seemed to care about me.
As with any job, after-work parties happened. There was always plenty of alcohol and drugs, none of which I really touched. Especially the drugs. In sixth grade, a Burbank police officer came to my class with his bag of drug paraphernalia and explained to us how each was used and its effect. He scared me straight.
That doesn't mean I wasn't tempted, as were most of us who didn't participate in drug use, but the druggies we hung around were mostly respectful about our choice. They would offer; I would refuse; they'd make sure I was sure. I was sure. And off they'd go to do their thing. After a rough day at work, it was hard to say no to something that would help mellow me out, and there were times when I was tempted.
So what about Lianne? Well, Lianne's parents were alcoholics, and although Lianne drank (we were legal to drink at 18), she avoided drugs as well. Until one night when she didn't. I remember trying to talk her out of smoking weed, but I knew it was ultimately her decision.
I firmly believe addiction is a genetic disorder, and when faced with something addictive, like marijuana or alcohol, those with the addiction gene are affected negatively. I've watched too many people "try" marijuana, only to find themselves craving it. Craving any high, really. Lianne chose drugs and lost her boyfriend. Ultimately, I think she lost more than her boyfriend.
In fact, after she left Round the Corner, I only heard about her from others. She was partying all the time, using drugs, getting drunk. The last time I saw her, in the early 1990s at the Scottish festival, she was wasted, slurring her words, making no sense. I felt both pity and disgust at the time.
So what happened when I looked her up the other night? I found her obituary. She died six years ago. I was shocked. I also found a YouTube video her sister put together of Lianne's life, which I've watched a couple of times. I was profoundly shocked at the physical changes in her. Granted, none of us remains young forever, but I had a hard time figuring out which was Lianne in some of the pictures. She had aged considerably in the years since I had last seen her. I would not have recognized her on the street.
Stoners tout the greatness of their drugs and how they feel while on drugs, but they neglect to mention other factors. The search for a better high causes risky behavior, for example. One night, at the same party actually, some guys we didn't know sold pot to some of my friends. After smoking it, they began to freak out and run around screaming. Why? The pot was laced with LSD.
Stoners tout the belief that marijuana isn't addictive, but I feel if a person comes from a family of addicts, whether it's alcohol or drugs, they will get addicted. And while stoners say that marijuana is not a gateway drug, explain to me how recovering addicts started their addictions. Most recovering addicts I've met began with pot.
And finally, frequent drug and alcohol use will result in physical changes. Like Lianne. Like every person I've ever known who was caught in the vicious cycle of addiction. Broken blood vessels, yellowy eyes, weight gain or loss, brittle hair...
Lianne isn't my first friend to die because of drugs. Another friend, someone I had known in and met again in Colorado, died in a drug-lab fire in 2001. She was 32 years old. Lianne was 43.
I'm sure some of my sixth grade classmates were intrigued by drugs during the police officer's presentation, but he scared me badly. I don't regret my decision to remain drug-free, as hard as it was to uphold.
