What It's Like

It's like trying to walk on a 14-inch wide steal I-beam, a thousand feet up in the air at the top of a sky scraper under construction. Some people can do it easily, they say it's no different than walking on the ground, you just need to be a bit careful about where you walk is all. The trick, they say, is to not look down. Some people can't do it at all! If you put them on such a beam, and all they had to do was crawl ten feet to safety, they wouldn't be able to do it. They'd cling to the beam with both arms and legs, eyes tightly closed and beg hysterically for someone to get them down.
Still others, like me, can at least manage to crawl, but never stand without support, much less walk. And the irony is that this “beam” that I can't walk is only ten inches to a few feet off the ground for most people. But it's a thousand feet to me, which most people don't seem to understand. They call me a coward and a sicko because I can't walk what to them is as easy as a walk in the park. But, a park that has children in it to me is as much a tightrope in my mind as a crack house is to a crack addict. And strangely enough I've smoked crack, but I've never had any problem putting the pipe down. I always used drugs and alcohol intermittently, and never when I could not afford to. Those were “beams” I could walk blindfolded (I'd go months and even years without getting high at all, even when I could afford to. I once gave a crack addicted friend of mine my last “rock”, then asked him politely to go smoke it by himself and not to call me anymore. To him, crack was that 14-inch beam a thousand feet in the air, and I knew that if he ever fell he could end up hurting me too. So, I respectfully ended my association with him, though I still considered him a friend. The only time I ever saw him again was once, to give him a Christmas card that featured a picture of my cat, that he had reluctantly let me have when it was a kitten and could not take care of it himself. I gave him the card so he would know I still considered him a friend, and so he could see how the cat had grown. I never saw him again after that, nor did I smoke any more crack until shortly before my arrest in 2005, about two years later).
We all have 14-inch beams that we can't walk in our lives. Most people are lucky enough to never find themselves confrontated with having to navigate their exposed beams. But others must face their beams every day. If you put a crack addict in jail where he can't get high, he's fine. But for me, my “beam” is literally attached to my body and “not looking down” is a lot harder to do than it sounds!