Mal Does the Wrong Drugs 1

Mal Does the Wrong Drugs.


Let’s give this one a little soundtrack; with Marilyn Manson’s  “I don’t like the drugs but the drugs like me”.


Insert video


If you read my twitter babbling with any regularity it becomes obvious that sleep and I have a tenuous relationship at best.


It is a typical night and an insane work pace for weeks ( months, or years) on end that finally stopped for a few days. At two am on the Chesty Blonde looks over at me and encourages me “go take a pill. You need to sleep”. She Is right i had not slept for more than a few minutes here and there for about a week. And not much longer than those few minutes for months.


Normally i keep my prescription sleeping pills in my night stand (with a second batch in my briefcase, and the master supply in a down stairs cabinet). 36 months earlier other than coffee, women, and sex my only drug use prescription or otherwise was multivitamins and the occasional aspirin.


Unless you count my organic green veggie juice with extra green powder. Amen brother now we are giving some deadheads a run for their money…ok not really


I stumble to my feet and head to the bathroom. For some odd reason i had set my pills in there before heading to bed.  


Placing one next to a filled water glass. I pop the pill, chomp down on it and with a big gulp wash it down yet in that instant realize it tasted odd.


I have an irrational fear of choking and chew my pills.  A few minutes later learn that in that dark room and without checking i had taken a half a Xanax rather than my sleeping pill. Granted it could have been far worse.


Ladies and gentlemen Mal does the Wrong Drugs; let the hilarity ensue.


First off it works, my mind lets go and i actually sleep…pretty well and long at that.  When i wake up i am beyond mellow. Thinking nothing of it i chill on the couch drinking coffee and staring at mindless b rate stoner comedy movies for hours. No racing thoughts, no real ambition just a nice warm comfortable chilled out morning. I actually recall laughing. Something i realize from time to time i have stopped doing.


I’m a little floaty but never give it a second thought. I’d run on fumes for weeks. Maybe that is what being a little rested feels like so i blow off the mellow vibes.


Eventually its time to get dressed and after a long debate about whether pants were essential or not I head oft to yoga.  Wearing pants just for the record.


On the drive i realize how calm i am after being cut off by a dick wad in a Ford. Literally shrugging it off without a care or concern. Making a mental note of my ambivalence.


in class i am uber mellow, have an amazing sense of balance for once and 90 minutes later feel really great.  It is only a passing thought at the time that the pill from the night before is part of why. Focused, balanced and happy. Yea DRUGS!


Next up is a series of immediate family functions. Along the way the Temptress and I are texting.  Diva hands me a beer. I’m not much of a drinker in recent years. But even so one beer should be harmless Right?.


 4 ounces in and I am high as a kite during a windy day at the beach . Literally flying in a way i never have. By the time i finish the drink i am nearing a rock star buzz. I am mellow and calm aggression wise…which is not me. But I am also physically super hyper like a sketch comedy scene actor over playing everything for effect.


For anyone who has seen the movie “Old School” i am about one shot of whiskey or 12 ounces of beer away from becoming Frank the Tank and streaking through the city.


Now might be a good time to tell you. There are two reasons i don’t take drugs.


1) i am a control freak, i know how to exist  (in society) in that “always on the fucking edge” state of aggression and situational interpretation .it is very much part of who I am. Not good for longevity but it makes me functional.   


2) i have a history of having odd physical and mental reactions to all different types of medicine.


Basic over the counter painkillers are like speed and leave me extra wired for days. I probably don’t blink, sleep is not even attempted and i am likely to start a holy war with the nearest convent filled with nuns if left alone. Hate those fucking cunts.


A child’s dose of a cold medicine might knock me out literally for 3 days.  I pretty much just drool and sleep. Occasionally remembering to breath.


Add in varying states of mental changes from other common things and you have my fucked up body.


Honestly i try not to take anything because you never know if i am going to decide to write a novel without stopping or a 2 hour and 4 minute rock opera (both happened, one was not even slightly coherent afterwards but felt brilliant at the time). The rock opera was fantastic however.


In this case i become a bit sentimental.  There are in truth lovely moments where i would openly share things with a simplicity that would not have normally been the case. It was almost with a childlike wonder.  


I danced with an old woman in the vestibule of a restaurant.  Carried a tray full of dishes to a staging area for the wait staff.  Nothing pissed me off, in fact nothing  absolutely nothing mattered. I was not hurried, or worried. I just did what seemed like fun.


Vodka? Sure why the fuck not i answered already making Guns and Roses circa 1990 seem sober.




Cake? Hell yes I too love cake!


Suddenly i was fun Mal. Laughing, and carrying on, and completely out of my fucking mind!


I had no fucks to give! If it seemed fun let’s do it. And everything seemed fun (again). This was the younger version of me that would hold multi day theme parties.


The Blonde had no clue what happened until bringing it up later. “babe it was the xanax I took. When i had a beer…”   The kids had a blast, i didn’t have to drive, or be anything, but towards the end i could feel a pull.


Part of me wanted to have a few more drinks and stay in that warm place, to be what i once was. A non stop party.  To be that guy forever floating and fun.


Yet part of me wanted to be back to my normal agitation and state of control.


I am too old to experiment with drugs. Other than a statin there is probably nothing new and exotic in my future.  Yet the monster deep down inside of me wonder how much fun i could be on some X and cialis while at an orgy.
And thoughts like that my friends is exactly why i don’t normally do drugs. Although no doubt hilarity would ensue.

About Malflic

Minor Demon, life long hedonist, sadist and general nerd. Women are my weakness and greatest addiction of choice followed by torrid love affair with coffee and caffeine. When not committing sins of the flesh I'm an unrepentant capitalist, avid reader, Star Wars, and B rate comedy movie geek.

One thought on “Mal Does the Wrong Drugs

  • openspiritgrl

    I can relate to some of this. I’ve rarely heard of anyone who has a similar overly reactive physiology to drugs. Nice to know I’m not alone!


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