At that time, alcohol and drugs and meaningless sexual encounters helped me forget, at least for a moment or two, that nothing mattered. But with the growth of Ayden, I found myself caught between two opposed realities yet again. One the one hand, I desired to live an exemplary life for my child’s sake; yet, on the other hand, I was an atheist and understood that every social reality is ultimately the product of the blind forces of nature and was meaningless. So I did what most upstanding citizens do – I binge drank on the weekends, at night, when my kid couldn’t see what I was really like. I played the hypocrite.
But this only lasted for a short amount of time. Logically, there was nothing keeping me from doing what I wanted but my own arbitrarily imposed moral standards. So I revised my moral standards, got involved with a fellow reprobate philosopher I had met while attending the local college in Idaho, and graduated to abusing harder drugs.
I went from consuming whiskey, malt liquor, nicotine, and marijuana in excessive amounts to snorting narcotics and amphetamines together with them. With my alcoholism, nicotine addiction, and a growing insatiable desire for prescription speedballs – I grew more and more homesick and decided to move back to New York, by myself.
The reprobate philosopher friend encouraged me to follow my desires to fornicate, abused my body, forsake my wife and child, and continue to live in opposition to Christianity. Having been raised in a Christian household, the reprobate philosopher’s disdain for Christians and their beliefs only differed from mine as regarded his explicitly contemptuous attitude and actions toward “those _______ idiots.” He said what I thought, giving me an external source of justification for further turning my back on the God who sustained my life, and the wife and son who did nothing to deserve my abandoning them.
So I gagged my conscience with Wild Turkey whiskey and weed, bought a ticket to NYC, and head back east unshowered, unshaven, disheveled and hungover.