This incident occurred before I left (not graduated) high school. I think I may have posted it elsewhere but I cannot find it. It will be interesting to compare that post with this entry.

I am in my late teens and in the transitional period between pure hallucinogen use and heroin. At this time I am mixing LSD with a very powerful tranquilizer called Quaalude ("QUAY-lude"). The high is very psychedelic (of course) but also erotically physical. Quite frankly, I wouldn't mind a Quaalude or two right now. But I digress...

I am in group therapy. I cannot remember how or why I joined. I am in and out of various therapies during this period of my life, mostly surreptitiously. My parents refuse to believe that anything is wrong with me. Besides, they have a very deep dislike of the medical profession and psychiatrists in particular. My maternal grandmother had been lobotomized. They attach a stigma to mental problems.

I am high at the sessions, as I am high during all things I do. I mean chemically high, not the ordinary, three-dollar bill high I now get from doing nothing but existing. The other participants are vague to me. There is a middle-aged woman who is very attractive. Let's call her Bea. An elderly gentleman and I both notice her and she notices that. The group exchanges telephone numbers. We meet again several times.

I am leaving a Jefferson Airplane concert. I have taken too many Quaaludes and the acid I dropped turned out to be eight-way and not single-hit. In other words, instead of taking two doses of LSD, I have taken sixteen. I am vomiting violently from the Quaaludes. My friends are in a panic. They don't know what to do with me. I mumble something to the effect that I think I'll live: call Bea. They do and she comes to fetch me.

The acid keeps me awake until about 2:00 AM when what's left of the Quaaludes takes over and my teenage body becomes super-charged with sexual energy. I fuck her brains out. It is dawn by the time I am exhausted and fall asleep.

I wake alone late in the morning. Her bedroom is a chaotic disaster. The bed is damp and reeks of animal sex. I stumble to the bathroom where I throw up what's left of the poison in my system. Bea is downstairs and hears me and calls up to me to join them at breakfast. Them?

I get dressed and wobble down to where I hear their voices. Seated at the table is Bea and her two sons and daughter. The girl is little, maybe four years old. I immediately recognize her sons. One of them is in the same grade as I am at high school. The patter is causal morning chit-chat. Her sons do not partake in the conversation. They glare at me with unbridled hatred.

I pass out in my bowl of oatmeal. Apparently the Quaaludes have not completely left my system. I awake later in the afternoon next to Bea and fuck her senseless. I am now fully recovered. I get dressed and hitchhike back to my village. I am flying in fear and mania the whole way. A chicken hawk picks me up and attempts to seduce me. I make him stop the car. I get out and walk the remaining four miles to town.