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tom's tweaker tips

 

 

by Tom Lazzari, Adult Entertainer & Ex-Tweaker

Put the pipe down … back away slowly.
You’re high enough already.
You don’t need to do more.
More won’t get you higher, you’ll just be high looooonger.
Making it harder to come down and pull yourself together.
But the quality of the high won’t get any better.
Seriously.
Just the opposite.
Now you’re too high.
And you can’t focus.
And you’re bored.
And you’re easily distracted.
First with the porn, then with the computer, then with the stereo.
You start doing one thing and then quit that to do another.
And then you forget what you were doing in the first place.
And then you hit the pipe again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
Put the pipe down … back away slowly.

Let go of your dick.
Or at least get more lube.
You’ll rub yourself raw.

Things to do instead:
Turn off the computer.
Turn off the TV.
Turn off the porn.
Turn off the lights.
Turn off the music.
Appreciate the quiet.
Appreciate the sunrise.
Open the curtains.
Open the window.
Get some fresh air.
Get some sunlight.
Drink some water.
Drink some juice.
Brush your teeth.
Brush your hair.
Take a shower.
Take a bath.
Even better.
Floss.
Gargle.
Exfoliate. (And, no, picking scabs on your face does NOT count as exfoliating.)
Moisturize. (And, no, being covered in Albolene doesn’t count as moisturizing, either.)
Do the dishes.
Take out the trash.
Tidy up the drawers.
Clean the apartment.
Organize the cabinets.
Wipe down the remote.
Clean out your fridge.
Change your sheets.
Do some laundry.
Feed your dog.
Feed your cat.
Feed yourself.

Yes … EAT!
Preferably stuff that’s good for you. Coffee & cigarettes don’t count as food. Even if ??? or ESPECIALLY if ??? you’re not “hungry.” Remember, food is FUEL. Soft/Creamy/Mushy textures that won’t be too hard on your stomach are best: Yogurt, for the good bacteria you flush out every time that you douche. Bananas, for potassium ??? which helps prevent/soothe muscle cramps. Refried beans & cheese, with a little Taco Bell mild hot sauce. Hey, it’s free! (Try Beano to prevent gas … nothin’ less sexy than a giant TexMex lube fart!) Mashed potatoes & gravy. Or just with some butter & a little garlic salt. Mmmm. Cottage cheese & fruit. Oatmeal & raisins. Peanut butter. Avocado. Hummus. Even just a couple of spoonfuls is better than starving your digestive tract. Comfort food. The point is to get something nourishing into your system. And don’t worry: Carbs don’t count when you haven’t eaten in three days. Eat, Papa, eat … who wants a skinny Santa?

Find a way to sweat out the toxins. Sit ‘n’ schwitz in the steam room or dry sauna. I used to belong to New York Sports Club and eventually hit every gym in Manhattan. I knew which locker rooms were busy and/or cruisy at any given time of day or night. And which ones weren’t … Because there were times when I just wanted to be alone and come down off the high. Of course, if some hot Wall Street businessman happened to linger, who was I to say no? But the important thing was to SWEAT and get the tina toxins out of my system. If I hadn’t done that as often as I did, I’d probably be dead today. I’m sure of it.

Also, a quick note on hygiene: Please, boys … Wash Your Hands. Keep fresh cumrags and clean towels handy, as well as paper towels and hand sanitizer. Be aware of your surroundings and notice when EVERYTHING is covered in a fine film of lube: The remote controls, the computer keyboard, the doorknobs, the crackpipe, the cat … I’m still waiting for the health department to track STD outbreaks to a single jar of Albolene … Or that one creepy dude in the backroom or the glory holes or the orgy with the slippery, slimy, wandering hand dipping into everybody’s honey pot … like Gollum. The Precious! The Precious!

As for quitting, what works best? Harm reduction? 12 Steps? Rehab? That depends on the person. I quit cold turkey, but I was one of the lucky ones. A friend who really cared about me offered me this simple challenge:

“If you make a commitment to yourself,
And I support you in that commitment,
Can you keep that commitment?”
It seemed too logical to argue with, made a lot of sense, and wasn’t about shame. Or judgment. Or addiction. Or guilt. Or punishment. Or even about crystal, really. It was about a commitment to myself. And personal strength I didn’t know I had. And friendship. When I thought I was alone and no one cared if I lived or died.

 

So, I quit one day, and NOT doing crystal meth became more fun than doing it. One day clean turned into a week clean, which stretched into a month clean. My roommate was also a party pal and fuck buddy who was still using. He would have guys over, and they’d party. I just said no thanks to tina. I would pass the pipe without hitting it, have my fun, get off and go to sleep.

Every few months, I tried it again, maybe 4 times in a year before I quit for good. Each time, I remembered the few enjoyable things that I thought I missed about partying. But mostly I recalled the bad stuff I did NOT miss: crashing for a week after, the brainswirl, etc. And because I wasn’t in a 12 Step Program, I didn’t call these events “relapses.” So I didn’t have to beat myself up over it, or stand up in a meeting and “confess.” For me, it was a personal journey and I didn’t want to answer to anyone but myself. Finally, the last time I partied 2 years ago, I showed up at work pretty cracked out. I wasn’t still high necessarily but I hadn’t slept, looked like hell and couldn’t focus. No one seemed to guess it was crystal but they clearly could tell something was off. And I realized that a whole lot of other people’s jobs depended on me doing mine. So I made a choice to never do it again. Ever. The bad outweighed the good. It wasn’t worth it. And all the “buddies” I was so worried about losing barely noticed I was gone. And all the old friends I’d lost track of were so glad that the old me was back. And they forgave me. And I learned to forgive myself. And to redefine myself as something other than just a “tweaker.” And I didn’t lose any teeth. And I didn’t do any permanent organ damage. And the scary dreams stopped. And my brain chemistry evened out again. And I can still be a wild dirty monkey and have hot nasty sweaty satisfying caveman sex. And 2 years later, my boyfriend (who’s 8 years clean) loves me and totally supports me. There IS life after tina, y’all. And it’s pretty fucking fabulous.

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