Chapter 3

Morning came. Was it all a dream? All of it? If only I could be so lucky.

February 18th, 2002

I packed a bag with everything I thought I might need and I went downstairs for a morning beer. I rolled the last of my weed into a formidable blunt for the 2 hour drive. If this was going to be my last day as an addict and lush I was going to do it right.

Shot of Jack. Beer chaser. Time to drive.

I left pretty early because I wanted to spend some of that cash I had won on Saturday. Somehow spending money makes me feel good. I guess its all part of the fucked up world I have found myself in. Just trying to kill the pain any way that I can.

My first stop is a 7-11 to get a few needed items. Can of chew. 2 packs of Camels. A forty. Laffy Taffy and sour patch kids. I crack the beer as soon as I get in the car. I look at myself in the rear view mirror.

I still hate you...

I figure I will need new "road music" and "rehab clothes" so I stop off at the mall to do some much needed shopping to try and get my mind off of what I was really doing today.

Foot Locker.

New sweats. Adidas.

2 new pairs of shoes. Adidas.

2 Beanies. Adidas.

I laugh at myself as I realize that I am actually accessorizing before going into rehab. Feels good to laugh.

Next stop is music. I need new music. I need angry angry music I tell myself. I start looking through the new music. I don't know why but angry music just really wasn't very appealing to me at this moment. I decided I would just grab a couple CDs of people I have never heard of.

The first pick was Kirk Franklin "The rebirth of Kirk Franklin". This was a far cry from angry. Something about the title of the CD grabbed me.

Rebirth.

The second CD was some guy I never heard of named Rufus Wainwright. The Cd is called "Poses" and for some reason I want to buy this because it has a song called "Cigarettes and Chocolate milk" and both sound really good to me. I would find out later that he wrote this album while going through addiction. Funny how shit works.

I hit the road once again. More beer. I light my monster blunt and I reach for numb. I start listening to this Rufus guy...

His lyrics just speak to me.

Who will keep
Keep me in this evening
Even though They are not here with me
I could be a great star
Still I'm far from happy
Finally Feel the world around me
Fighting through
fighting through the whiskey

I could be a great star
Still I'm far from happy
Out of these shadows
Comes the light
Shadows comes the light

I smoke. I drive. I try and sing along through the tears and sobs and for a moment I feel like Rufus is my friend. My friend

*******************************

I am feeling high as a kite by the time I get to my final destination. After I park my car I take a deep breath and walk in.

Can I help you?

His glasses where huge. I couldn't take my eyes off of these glasses and the magnified eyes behind them. His name was John. He had gotten sober here many years before and decided to work the front desk. He loved his job.

I am here to check in I guess...

After he got my name he walked me to an office door and walked me in. I sat down and he placed his hand on my shoulder and said "wait here".

A woman who's name I can't remember walks in and I just start feeling very uneasy. The walls feel like they are creeping ever so slowly towards me. Encasing me. Trapped.

She starts asking me questions.

I don't know why but I ignore her.

Are you high?

I find this question to somehow be insulting to me. Am I high? Am I fucking high? Hell yes I'm high!

I am a drug addict what do you think!

She asks me if she is going to need to bring someone else in the room. She is not comfortable. I feel the fire in my eyes. I feel the fear inside. Emotion. She brings in another man. A very very large man. She gets no more attitude.

They explain that I will be going up to the detox wing where I will be spending the next few days. They inform me that They will be going through all of my stuff and taking away anything that I am not allowed to have. No outside reading material. No hair gel because it contains alcohol. Like I am going to drink my hair gel...

addiction.

I meet the nurses. They take my picture. I ask if I could see it.

hideous. Copper spiked hair. unshaven. pale. Blood shot eyes. defeated

I started my mix of detox meds. Librium. Wonderful Librium. Librium is a benzodiazepine or a Benzo that is used for anxiety and is basically a central nervous system depressant. It isn't a drug I would take recreationally. It gels you. It is a staple drug for alcohol detox. Side effects are confusion and vomiting. I know both of these too well all ready.

They take blood and urine samples. They test the level of drugs in my system. They show me my bed. They tell me to sleep. Good luck

I need a cigarette. I need a drink. I need something.

I get up and go to the "smoking room". It is a room the size of a closet that has a big vent and fan. I think I lost a year of my life just being in the room. I stepped out of the room and I heard the screaming...

FUCK YOU! I HATE YOU!

calm down Mom. We love you...

FUCK YOU! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS!!

tears and heartbreak. Last hope.

I look in the room and saw a very frail woman. She must have been in her 70's. She was screaming at the top of her lungs at what appeared to be her daughter and son. They were crying and she was cursing them out.

As I passed the room her eyes caught mine...

HELP ME YOU FUCKER!

I'm right with ya. Help me.

I enter back into the detox wing just as another addict is walking out with the "Librium Stare"... blank. As he passes me I see he is covered in his own shit.

welcome home.