I’ve been bad. Rather, I’ve been watching bad: Breaking Bad.
I knew that I wanted to see this series when it came out many years ago, before
I started the bender that sent me to prison for possessing the drug that the
show embellishes. I wanted to wait until not only did I have the time, but the
ability to watch it without wanting to get high.
Here’s what I think of the show so far, and how it relates
to reality and my old life.
The first scene that struck a nerve was in the first episode
where they make their first batch of meth. I was only ever involved in the
process once, and really I just watched. We were out on an abandoned farm and I
can remember vividly the smells and sights, and some of those were recreated
quite well on the program.
That day on that farm, things didn’t go well. We couldn’t get
the right temperature for the chemical reaction because we didn’t have a hot-plate, and we were trying to
use an old wood burning stove which uses, well, fire which doesn’t mix well
with the process. We ended up going back into the city to a house where we had
permission to cook. About midway through the operation, we were surprised by a
landlord who showed up with a utility guy and we all had to hide in a basement
bathroom with the lights off for an hour until the coast was clear. We netted
very little by the end, and I would never see any of those people again.
The people in the show generally smoke their meth, which is
the way I also intook the chemical. This has actually not been a source of
trigger for me because they do it improperly. I’ve written before on the ritual,
and I don’t want to do it again because that really can be a trigger for me, so I will just say that most meth users
keep a very clean pipe and keep the source of the heat far away so as not to
burn the precious commodity. Many people also shoot, boof (no, it's not a reference to flatulence. Not even close.), and eat their dose,
but I stayed away from those other methods for a variety of reasons, most of
them fear-based.
I see a lot of the people I used to hang around with. Their
names and shapes are different, but their spasms and bearings are all the same.
The looks on a tweaker’s face I believe cannot be duplicated without great
acting and research, and these people did their homework—or their meth. I find
myself wondering what they did to study the lifestyle, and how they reacted to
seeing these types of people first hand. I also wonder what type of drug addict
lets people not in the trade into their lives, and how they are recompensed.
I’m nearly into the third season and there are five total. I
haven’t had an urge yet to throw away my life and go off the deep end, and if I
had any sudden urge to make a call to an “old friend” I would call my sponsor:
that’s what he’s there for.
I like a lot of different types of shows, and I love this
one for the dialogue and character development. If you’ve never seen it, Bryan
Cranston plays a chemistry teacher who is diagnosed with inoperable lung
cancer, and decides he can make money to pay for his chemo by making and
selling meth with an addict partner. I was a drug-addict/dealer, which is a
losing combination because all of the profit goes inside me and my friends. It’s
a vicious cycle that bears no repeating, and only dredges up calamitous and stomach-turning
recollections. It’s much better watching somebody else do it from my couch in
my house. Well, her couch in our house.
