Chapter 4
The pen shook.
I wanted to write. I wanted to be able to capture all of it somehow so I could recall it all later. The smell. The feel. The hell.
The pen shook.
I had been in detox for over 24 hours. The librium cast an uncomfortable haze that I could not shake. I want out.
Run.
I was given a journal by a friend of mine at work, Beautiful and green. On the inside cover it read:
Steve,
I believe in you. I am praying for you. You have so much to offer. See you soon
I can't stop crying. Reality has not only crept in but it has set up shop inside my head. I want to feel good about what I am doing but all I can think about is WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING??
The pen shook.
I start to write. It will be my one and only journal entry during my stay.
So this is where my life is. I am in detox at my first and I pray only rehab facility. I am alone and I can't stop shaking. I can't stop crying and I know that I can't make it through one day without a drug or a drink. I hate myself. If I had the choice to live or die right now I honestly don't know which I would choose. Jesus, I am a mess. Help
I throw up. I could have grabbed my puke tray but for some reason I want to watch it splatter all over the floor. I am hate. I am alone
******************************
The next 2 days are a blur of Librium and cigarettes.
I have memories of swearing at the nurses. I know that I called them wonderful names and asked them nicely to GIVE ME SOMETHING! ANYTHING!
They asked me if I was up to going to a morning lecture. I wanted to be anywhere but this bed.
I was able to get out of my hospital gown and put sweats on. Trace of normalcy.
I entered a room that had 50 other people in it. I felt like every eye was on me. I felt ashamed. I sat in the back and to tell you the truth I went in and out of consciousness the whole time.
Librium.
It was a blur.
Blackness...
...holding onto your Higher power
Blackness...
...power greater than yourself can restore you to sanity...
I feel the nudge against my ribs.
It's over bro. How you liking the librium?
perfect.
He laughs.
It will get better once your head clears.
I hope so cause this just sucks.
Better than the alternative.
I want to say is it? but I decide I should shut the hell up for once and keep the smart ass inside at bay.
I walk back to my detox wing for more librium and sleep.
****************************
I get a transition room before I get a room in one of the quads. The nursing staff wants to make sure the entire detox goes smoothly. All I know is I want off the detox drugs. I am having what can only be described as hallucinations and I am not enjoying them. Not one bit. I somehow feel like I am losing my mind. I have been here for 3 days I think. I have smoked 2 packs of cigarettes and I am wondering how I get more. Nicotine is my new best friend.
I fall asleep and I have nightmares. I have using nightmares. I am filled with terror in these dreams. I don't want to use but I can't stop it. It is who I am. I wake up to discover I have shit all over my bed.
addiction.
lovely.
I have to get a nurse to help me. I am a grown man and I have to go to a nurses station to tell her I have shit my bed.
I cry as I tell her.
it has to get better.
I wanted to write. I wanted to be able to capture all of it somehow so I could recall it all later. The smell. The feel. The hell.
The pen shook.
I had been in detox for over 24 hours. The librium cast an uncomfortable haze that I could not shake. I want out.
Run.
I was given a journal by a friend of mine at work, Beautiful and green. On the inside cover it read:
Steve,
I believe in you. I am praying for you. You have so much to offer. See you soon
I can't stop crying. Reality has not only crept in but it has set up shop inside my head. I want to feel good about what I am doing but all I can think about is WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING??
The pen shook.
I start to write. It will be my one and only journal entry during my stay.
So this is where my life is. I am in detox at my first and I pray only rehab facility. I am alone and I can't stop shaking. I can't stop crying and I know that I can't make it through one day without a drug or a drink. I hate myself. If I had the choice to live or die right now I honestly don't know which I would choose. Jesus, I am a mess. Help
I throw up. I could have grabbed my puke tray but for some reason I want to watch it splatter all over the floor. I am hate. I am alone
******************************
The next 2 days are a blur of Librium and cigarettes.
I have memories of swearing at the nurses. I know that I called them wonderful names and asked them nicely to GIVE ME SOMETHING! ANYTHING!
They asked me if I was up to going to a morning lecture. I wanted to be anywhere but this bed.
I was able to get out of my hospital gown and put sweats on. Trace of normalcy.
I entered a room that had 50 other people in it. I felt like every eye was on me. I felt ashamed. I sat in the back and to tell you the truth I went in and out of consciousness the whole time.
Librium.
It was a blur.
Blackness...
...holding onto your Higher power
Blackness...
...power greater than yourself can restore you to sanity...
I feel the nudge against my ribs.
It's over bro. How you liking the librium?
perfect.
He laughs.
It will get better once your head clears.
I hope so cause this just sucks.
Better than the alternative.
I want to say is it? but I decide I should shut the hell up for once and keep the smart ass inside at bay.
I walk back to my detox wing for more librium and sleep.
****************************
I get a transition room before I get a room in one of the quads. The nursing staff wants to make sure the entire detox goes smoothly. All I know is I want off the detox drugs. I am having what can only be described as hallucinations and I am not enjoying them. Not one bit. I somehow feel like I am losing my mind. I have been here for 3 days I think. I have smoked 2 packs of cigarettes and I am wondering how I get more. Nicotine is my new best friend.
I fall asleep and I have nightmares. I have using nightmares. I am filled with terror in these dreams. I don't want to use but I can't stop it. It is who I am. I wake up to discover I have shit all over my bed.
addiction.
lovely.
I have to get a nurse to help me. I am a grown man and I have to go to a nurses station to tell her I have shit my bed.
I cry as I tell her.
it has to get better.
posted by steve at 10:07 AM
2 Comments:
I'm really -really- not one for Christian rock but your band sounds pretty good!
Steve, I can relate, but only a bit. I really need some advice on something, but it may be long so I'll e-mail you. VERY good, don't stop. I have been writing a book for a long time and am just having trouble organizing it. I think that I'll wait until after my education is done because it is too overwhelming.
Post a Comment
<< Home