tom's tweaker tips
by Tom Lazzari, Adult Entertainer & Ex-Tweaker
Put the pipe down … back away slowly.
Yes … EAT!
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,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.back to top
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