My mother was a dry alcoholic; my pharmacist father used to give her strange things like elavil, etc., to help her depressive times. It was only years later (like where was I?) that I realized that not everyone had a dish cabinet at home filled with all sorts of Rx mood-altering medicines, rather than cups and saucers. It might be said that I did a fair amount of chemical abuse over the years. I am also having -- and have had -- a hard time in finding a place for Judaism in my life.

--L

S---

Anyway, for the humor:

When I was six, I stole a $20 bill (a lot of money in 1960!) from my father or grandfather. I forget who. Anyway, several hours later my father got a call at his office from the local drug store that I was in there with a $20.00 bill buying candy for a bunch of friends. (Even at 6 I didn't think I belonged. Little did I know that I was OK just the way I was and would have been accepted by my chums even without buying them candy).

The punch line, which makes me chuckle every time I think of it: Even at six years old, I was shopping for candy in a drug store!

Old habits die hard!

Best to all.

Y----

When I was a kid, I was asthmatic and pills were magical in permitting free breathing. I was also a chunky kid of a clinically obese mother. And she took me for amphetamines when I was ten to be helpful.

I don't have the kind of relationship to ask her, but I wonder what was in her mind. Most of my doctors had fancy Park Avenue addresses. The diet doc was a sleaze bag operation alongside the old Madison Sq Garden, in Hell's Kitchen, ten dollars to the cashier, a quick blood pressure taking, and envelopes of pills thru the cashier window.

Then in my teens, the quart jar of Dexamil, over the broom closet, which was my mother's and I dipped into it.

When I was in my twenties I moved into Synanon which I thought was going to be my utopia (another story) as a non-addict, what they called a "square". To move in, I dumped about 500 to 1000 assorted prescribed amphetamines which had been generously and appropriately (for those times ) prescribed by right-thinking Beverly Hills psychiatrists and internists who looked at me and saw me as a nice middle class Jewish woman who couldn't possibly be an addict, so they let me try out the amphetamines, a 100 prescribed at a time, to find the one I liked the best. Desoxyn was the best.

I lasted in Synanon for six weeks (another story) (at that time only heroin addicts were addicts). Got out and renewed my amphetamine and downers prescription.

The sad part for me and them, is that I was actually using them, as prescribed, (my psychiatrist who was the chief research Psychopharmacologist at South Oaks had taught me how to prevent physical tolerance buildup) and neither I nor they questioned my reliance on an external agent not internal resources for a run of 17 years.

Not surprising, I got insomnia from the amphetamines, so they properly prescribed barbiturates and tranquillizers to get me down, so I had seconal and placidyl prescriptions also routinely.

Being a good Jewish girl, when one or two pills didn't do the job, I wouldn't dream of excess pill taking, I turned to alcohol to add to the stirring pot. Being a good proper middle class girl, when a bottle of wine a day didn't do the job (after all people drink a bottle of wine with a good dinner), I added antihistamines. when 4 or 5 additional chlortimeton didn't do the job, .....

That's about when the floor under the black hole bottom I had been in already for seven years gave way (also another story) I never knew until several years after I was in the rooms, that that mess of chemicals on a daily basis was addiction. I thought I had only an emotional bottom and wasn't a real alcoholic/addict.

And that basically is all of my story .

I have never considered that the physicians enabled my addiction. They practiced the best medical knowledge available to them at the time.

I remember when the desoxyn went triplicate prescription and some of the pharmacies in Buffalo didn't want to carry it and my utter indignation that they were casting aspersions on such a nice middle class type as me being an addict.

At the same time, professionally, I was involved in the state system that was monitoring the triplicates and was relieved to know it was such a shambles my name would not likely surface in it.

What a crazy mix, and to some extent this all started because I was an allergic/asthmatic kid and pills really were magical in restoring breathing.

S----

I also have allergies, asthma, etc. There is an over the counter appetite suppressant pill that has a dex type name that also has the exact same ingredients as a prescribed decongestant that my doctors give me all the time. Well, I have a history of reading "pill" ingredients like some people read recipes ( I have dabbled in some chemistry of my own).

It didn't take me long to figure this out. Besides I am also familiar with the PDR. For years I have taken one of these pills daily - to prevent sinus infections and I admit to keep me from being "hungry" - sort of a DUAL PREVENTATIVE. A few weeks ago - I stopped for just one day. That was a few weeks ago. Knock on wood - I haven't gotten a sinus infection or bronchitis or an asthma attack. I have been sneezing on occasion - but that's okay.

I also have asked myself - when I have the urge to eat - I was a thumb sucker as a child -am I hungry? I mean hungry - for food. I have noticed that some times I am not hungry for food - I might be bored, fidgety, stressed about something, and it will pass. It's been interesting. I'm not overweight, I have a perception of myself that is "large". Once when my husband and I looked in a mirror together (he's 6'3 and weighs about 100 pounds more than I do; I was amazed to see that we weren't the same size!

Where am I going with this ? History on the PDR. When I was 19 I fell in love with a nice Jewish boy whose father and uncle were pharmacists and owned a chain of drug stores - in nice affluent suburban neighborhoods.

Talk about a kid in a candy store! This boyfriend also worked for his Dad during the summers and his house was also well stocked. He turned me on and he turned me on to everything! We even had pharmaceutical coke! That's when I obtained my first copy of the PDR. Always responsible - I had to know what I was taking and how much - what to mix and what not to mix, etc. He became the addict, I was addicted to him.

My grandmother also enabled the whole situation since her dresser drawer supplemented our supply.

Just an aside to this story - this boyfriend's father always lamented the fact that he didn't become a medical doctor and wanted this profession for his son. The first time I was invited to meet my boyfriends father, he asked me what I thought about Judaism. I'll never forget that day - I was not raised in an observant home and really didn't know what to say. And the entire time we were using drugs anyway and this man was prescribing for his family - unofficially of course.

I was also the "nice" Jewish girl and I was the one - when we were in Spain was elected to go from pharmacy to pharmacy asking for .."torinals, por favor" - as if nobody in Barcelona knew what we were doing; hippy American college kids. Just remembering my pharmaceutical days; there's no point to this except where I have been and where I am now.

M---

This was something I understood: when a person was sick or felt pain (physical), he should take a pill. My father's emotional pain exacerbated his physical pain so it was acceptable for him to take his pills. Because he was a physician, he was able to understand the nature of his illness.

I still have difficulty accepting that Jews can have problems with pills or alcohol. In fact, I have a hard time accepting that Jews can have mental illnesses such as schizophrenia. Aren't we the "chosen people?" My father was not an addict; he was a sick man. His disease was something that was explained medically (as opposed to psychologically).

J

V

I grew up in a High middle income family in the East New York section of Bklyn.

I had to travel to 14th street in Manhattan to attend school. (it was a food related trades high school) I was 13 and Momma (GOD bless her) would get up at 5:30 am to make sure I left with a good breakfast, which included my ugly pill (She called it) On the kitchen table was a bottle of 1,000 Dexadrine time control caps.

The Drs.... were pushing this latest diet wonder drug to all who were seeking relief from obesity. My mother didn't have to go to the Dr. for them. We had a cousin in the business. (why does this statement tickle me?) We never ran out of pills.

So I grew up whacked on amphetamine and didn't know it. In those days there were no triplicates yet and you could get them at any time. My first after school job, I learned some more about drugs. My boss was eating the same capsules as I was. So I guessed that was pretty normal or hip or something. Jewish boys didn't do drugs. So I never heard the expression, "ups, downs, addict, etc."

All kinds of destructive behavior followed, and I messed with a lot of shrinks. But none of them could figure out it was the pills.

Mostly the attributed my behavior to Puberty. My teens were acting up, they said. this only gave me more license to do what I was doing. While in service, I noticed a lot of my pills floating around. This time they were used as anti hangover candy. After a hard night on the town, one capsule and off to sleep for an hour or so, and able to work all day.

This was still considered ,Normal Behavior" because no one told me I was doing drugs, and I honestly believed that, so when I came home from service and got married, it was "normal" to have my own bottle of ugly pills on top of the fridge.

Now I don't know where this is going or what the message could be, but I just feel in touch with all the members who grew up in that kind of environment.

Is it any wonder that we baby boomers, Jewish or not, are so messed up?

Well I don't have to tell you the rest. you can probably figure it out by yourselves, and relate to it pretty well. After a while the caps. wouldn't do it for me anymore, and I was drinking a lot and that wasn't working also.

Let the experiments begin and not end for 30 years. Today I don't hate my parents for what they did. I understand what happened and I forgive them, and love them. They stood by me when I got serious due to their tough love at the end. I an very grateful to have a place to air these thing once in a while, and find I wasn't the only "victim?"

Milk and honey in recovery,

W