Smoking top ramen. Yes, the noodles. I don’t believe I ever did, but it’s a possibility.
I will never forget the counselor’s voice, in her Spanish accent, “Smoking top ramen?” listing off the possible ‘rock bottoms’ us drug addicts may have hit. In her effort to lighten the heaviness on our first day in a one month treatment facility, those 3 words pierced me.
I was surprised to hear something so shocking being spoken out loud. How did she know what I had been through, where I had come from?
The humiliation in admitting you picked something up off the floor and tried to smoke it? Immeasurable. Perhaps she remembered the feeling of panic when the drugs are gone. The desperation.
Sadly, I’ve tasted many things through a crack pipe, many of which were not crack, cocaine.When you expect something euphoric and sweet and you get a burnt taste and an empty feeling, the disappointment is also immeasurable . It literally feels as
though your world is about to end. In fact, you wish it would.
I can’t look at top ramen anymore without hearing that counselor’s voice.
It’s not top ramen, or even medium ramen… It’s bottom ramen.