Choosing Flossing Over Fucking

She spent her Saturday nights nowadays practicing good oral hygiene rather than filling her mouth with a variety of intoxicants and bodily fluids. The switch in her diet and habits had been a recent change and one that she was still warming herself up to. Although she had many valid reasons for choosing a night at home over a night at the bars, she still felt like she was wasting her youth away as a hermit and introvert, who was never destined to meet a man. She was an introverted, shy individual by nature, and reminding herself of that only hurt her case. She should be out meeting people, breaking rules, and raising hell while she still had the energy in her youth. She should be drinking to the point of unconsciousness and creating unbelievable stories to be retold by her friends the next day. She should be meeting all kinds of people and opening herself up to new and unusual opportunities. She should be lost in a crowd of dancing, shaking her ass shamelessly to the deafening beat pulsing through the speakers. But she had done all of that in the past, and could barely remember those times to the point of questioning that they had ever even occurred in her life in the first place.

She had been to countless parties, concerts, and druggie gatherings since the age of 16. Although she craved that social interaction and opportunity to let go, the active socializing and forced outgoing behavior was unnatural to her. She preferred to be out of the spotlight, watching the show from a corner in peaceful silence. She loved being surrounded by activity but preferred to refrain from joining in fully. That may have been what motivated her to identify as a smoker in the party scene – it allowed her an excuse to momentarily break from the rowdy scene and find a moment of peace and quiet outside. She fell into this role with finesse and became infamous in party circles for her ability to roll the perfect blunt. She relied on this crutch of social interaction heavily for seven years. The lubricant of alcohol played a large role in building confidence for letting go, as well as some experimentation with laboratory born drugs. Over the years though, she had grown a distaste for the feeling of complete loss of control. She had reached her dangerous peak of loss of consciousness, and decided that if she wanted to continue living, she would turn around and stop chasing that mythical dragon.
She was a slow learner, to some extent, with realizing the actions she was taking were detrimental to her mental and physical health. She had been hospitalized three times over the course of year, without pausing to reevaluate how she was able to so quickly and easily obtain a level of deterioration that reached helplessness and toyed with death. In college, it had become routine to drink to the point of vomiting for hours while blacked out, intermittently passing out on her friend’s bathroom floor. Her body was practically screaming for her to change her ways, and she proceeded on without paying heed for seven years. The moment when she did hear the screams, it was like a punch in the face. She had been out on the town with her friend, with plans to hit up bars and find a place with good music so that they could pop some Molly and get their dance on. She had taken the drug plenty of times in the past and was excited for a night of complete freedom to let go, dance and love fully and easily. The night only got better when her crush decided to join them for the night and it turned into a quad of couples, the ideal night. They enjoyed their time downtown and then decided to all pile into a taxi and head back to her place for a nightcap and come down. Back at the house however, her friend had decided to take another pill and she was convinced to carry on with the night and fully embrace the amazing situation they found themselves in. That’s when her night tipped over the peak of a good come up, and into a horrible struggle of keeping up with her high. She had taken one too many and she could tell as soon as the drugs hit her blood stream. Not wanting to set herself up for a bad high, she told herself it would all be alright, she would enjoy this, and to just roll with it. She silently left the group and retreated to her room, where she attempted to change out of her bar clothes. She got as far as removing her skirt and tights, and putting leggings halfway on before she had to lay back and rest as a feeling of an overwhelming high washed over her. It took all of her strength and focus to put her pants on the rest of the way. After accomplishing such a feat, all she could do way lay back on her bed and focus on her breath and not freaking out. She was excessively sweaty, but cold and could barely hold her eyes open for more than what seemed like one second. If she did manage to keep her eyelids peeled, she could feel her eyes rolling back inside her head, avoiding the overwhelming presence of the lightbulb above her head. She heard footsteps in the distance and prayed that it was someone who had come to save her and stop her high. It was her friend, and she did all she could to smile a greeting as words were completely out of the realm of possibility. Being rather high herself, she danced around the room asking questions about how she was doing, but barely able to sit down and inspect for herself. Her friend decided that she was ill-equipped for the situation at hand, and went downstairs to get reinforcements. What felt like an eternity later, she heard the sounds of her crush wandering through rooms upstairs, attempting to find hers. When her door slowly opened, adrenaline kicked in enough for her to say “Hi” in a breathy voice and smile slowly. He approached her uncertain, as if she was a rabid or wounded animal. He asked her a series of questions that she could only answer with one-word responses, and then decided that he would go get her some water, as she was visibly sweating. He returned with a heavenly glass of water with vitamin C and placed it on the ground next to her, as the use of her arms was out of question. He then informed her the he and his friend were going to go home, obviously due to the fact that she had killed the party and was on the verge of killing herself. Embarrassed, disappointed, sad, and paralyzed she remained laying on the bed and smiled faintly as he backed out of the door. Her friend later came upstairs to keep her company, as moving from her bed was near impossible. She was high all through the early hours of the morning, seeing the sun rise and convincing herself to close her eyes if only for a matter of minutes, if only her brain would stop reeling. She could feel her exhausted body but could not subside to sleep no matter how hard she tried. She remained high for the whole next day, questioning her decision to drive to pick up weed half way to her destination, as the stop lights stretched and twinkled still. She was ashamed of what she had done, disappointed that she had ruined an amazing evening, and physically destroyed because of it all.That’s when she decided that it was no longer worth it.
Despite having a healthy relationship with Mary Jane still, she had stopped associating with her friends Jameson and Molly. She now spent the early hours of her morning writing and beginning her day. She took pleasure in remembering her evenings and the people she met now. She volunteered to be DD because that meant she could head home for an early bedtime when she needed. She still attended concerts and socialized at bars, but it no longer was what she felt committed to doing every weekend. She had reunited with her commitments to be healthy, live a fulfilling life, and be there for the people she loved, and she was alright with that. She was happy to choose flossing over getting fucked up any day now.
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