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I woke up with almost no memory of what I'd done. ![]() Anyway, that night I threw up for probably an hour straight and then passed out on the bathroom floor. I'm told I resemble him more than anyone else - a long face, with eyes like drops of water running down. My grandfather drank himself to death before I was born. ![]() Something was driving me that I couldn't identify and still don't comprehend. I drank some and then I just had to drink more until the whole glass was drained empty. My friend drank a little bit and stopped, unable to take anymore. I was curious to know what it felt like to get good and proper drunk. We poured a little bit from each bottle into a glass, filling it almost three- quarters of the way with the different-colored, sweet-smelling liquid. When I was eleven my family went snowboarding up in Tahoe, and a friend and I snuck into the liquor cabinet afterdinner. It just affected me in a way that didn't seem normal. I almost always blacked out, so I could remember little to nothing of what'd happened. Plus I was drinking more and more, sometimes during the day. We'd go into the hills of Marin County, dropping acid or eating mushrooms - walking through the dry grass and overgrown cypress trees,giggling and babbling incoherently. Every break in classes had me driving off to get high. In high school I was rolling blunts and smoking them in the car as I drove to school. Our friends did - it was totally accepted.īut with me things were different. So I just started smoking some pot and what harm could that do me anyway? Hell, my dad used to smoke pot. My writing had been published in Newsweek. Sure I'd had some problems smoking weed and drinking too much when I was younger, but that was all behind me. I'd worked hard those last three and a half years. I was seventeen and had been accepted at prestigious universities across the country and Ifigured a little partying was due me. Back in high school it was just pot, maybe I'd do some acid and mushrooms on the weekend.īut I smoked pot every day. She had moved to San Francisco when I was a senior and we met somehow - at a party or something. Actually, I was sleeping with her for about two weeks. I mean, I never even knew her that well but we'd sort of hung out a few times in high school. I'd heard rumors about what happened to Lauren. "synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title. It's a harrowing portrait-but not one without hope. As we watch Nic plunge into the mental and physical depths of drug addiction, he paints a picture for us of a person at odds with his past, with his family, with his substances, and with himself. In a voice that is raw and honest, Nic spares no detail in telling us the compelling, heartbreaking, and true story of his relapse and the road to recovery. ![]() It took a violent relapse one summer in California to convince him otherwise. Even so, he felt like he would always be able to quit and put his life together whenever he needed to. In the years that followed, he would regularly smoke pot, do cocaine and Ecstasy, and develop addictions to crystal meth and heroin. Nic Sheff was drunk for the first time at age eleven. ![]() This New York Times bestselling memoir of a young man’s addiction to methamphetamine tells a raw, harrowing, and ultimately hopeful tale of the road from relapse to recovery. It's a harrowing portrait-but not one without hope.The story that inspired the major motion picture Beautiful Boy featuring Steve Carell and Timothée Chalamet. The story that inspired the major motion picture Beautiful Boy featuring Steve Carell and Timothée Chalamet.
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