I had a case in point this weekend for what I said earlier: alcohol oils the slippery slope of my drug abuse. A buddy and I went out, we have these goofy little redneck bars around here and I have to admit I kind of like them. He offered me a beer but told me no reason to drink if I didn't feel like it. So I had a beer, and after a while I had a second. I didn't drink any more than that, my tolerance is pretty much zero now. But next thing I knew the friend I was with was talking to some old friends who are opening their own bar nearby and we went over to check it out. We sat down in the office and I swear it took about 30 seconds for the first joint to go around. No biggie. Pot doesn't really do much for me so no problem. 30 minutes later a meth pipe was being passed. Whoops! Not what I'd bargained on. This was a difficult situation for me. I didn't know these people, and they were already paranoid from the pot. I played it off like I just don't like it and passed the pipe on when it came my way. But... OMG. Every time I saw one of those guys smoke it my mind would swim. I wanted so badly to take a hit, and they kept passing it to me. Other than second-hand, I didn't inhale anything though. That was rough, but once again alcohol dulled me down just enough that I got myself into that situation.
I can't afford to drink if that's the end product.