“I’m not an addict, I’m a speed freak.”
That is one of the funniest sentences my mom has ever spoken. I actually started laughing, out loud, over the phone.
I was in elementary school when I realized my mom took drugs, during that time, speed. I was in the car when she met a friend at my aunt’s house. My mom told me to wait while she went in, not typical. My mom always wore what she called a work shirt – a long-sleeved, denim, pocketed shirt. When she got back in the car, she took the pills out of her shirt pocket, held them in her loosely cupped hand, and said, “Fuck! I can’t believe he only had five.”
My mom has had many highs, and many lows. The lows are pretty much directly related to addiction – alcohol, drugs, relationships, work. A few years ago she almost overdosed on OxyContin. Her doctor finally referred her to a pain management center, where they now dole out a transdermal patch. She made the above comment, after leaving the pain center, furious that they were treating her like an addict.
Her sense of reality has always been skewed, and leaves me with a befuddled look on my face, but this comment left me tickled!