See entries 1-8 here: http://ift.tt/2C1piZR
Entry 9 - Sunday, 6:00 AM
My roommate, Ben, who has been detoxing off meth, finally woke up after sleeping since Wednesday. I hadn’t even said a word to him after nearly a week of being his roommate until this morning when finally realized he had a roommate. For a minute I honestly considered he may have died in his sleep, but even in that case I would be happy to have have my own room so I let him be.
He seems cool though, dude is huge and used to play football in college. Built like a refrigerator and about as tall as a telephone pole. He’s got droopy blue eyes and some shaggy black hair. Got hooked on pain pills from an injury and it took off from there. I don't know how or why he switched over to meth but everyone’s got their story. He let me use one of his blankets because I’ve been freezing my dick off over here, so that was nice of him. Ben seems to be a great roommate so far.
Entry 10 - Monday, 11:55 AM
Dickhead Doug, my case manager, wants me to write a “Dear John” letter. Which apparently is a letter I write saying “goodbye” to my addiction. Writing a letter to a semi-abstract medical condition sounds fucking retarded, so I’m going to write a breakup letter to my drug dealer instead. Here it goes:
Burke,
What up man. This is Chip. I’m actually only a few blocks away from your place right now but I’m stuck over here at Pinecrest.
You were the best dealer ever. You always had shit, and it was always fire. And even though you didn't use, you always let me fix in your bathroom. Afterwards you would even let me chill on your couch for a bit. I really liked being high as hell and watching you feed your fish and telling me all about your gun collection, that was cool as fuck. Also, your cat was dope. Skittles is chill as shit and I liked when she’d sit on my lap and start purring. I really appreciated all that.
I loved what we had going. But still, what I didn't love was the hold your product had on me. I didn't love giving every penny I earned to you. I didn't love how I only felt good when I was coming to or from your house. I didn’t love being a willing prisoner. And for these reasons I need to say goodbye. I hope I never see you again. Say goodbye to Skittles for me.
Entry 11 - Monday, 7:32 PM
I have been here for almost one week now. Place isn’t too bad as far as money grubbing rehabs go. A member of staff took me on a walk around the grounds again. Upstairs they got a sweet common room with a big flat screen and a jenky ping-pong table, and outside there’s a rusted gym area--none of which I am allowed access to until I finish detox.
My days on the 1st floor consist of laying in my bed, eating, writing, and lounging on the sofa in the front atrium while watching VHS tapes on the colossal 32” tube TV. Been hanging out there a lot to try and get a feeling for how the staff operates--shift changes, meal times, personal tendencies, that sort of thing.
Sometimes late at night, if nobody else is around, the janitor will prop open the back door and smoke a cigarette outside. I timed him last night and he was out there for two and a half minutes. Going that route has some potential in its simplicity.
Entry 12 - Tuesday, 10:08 AM
Moved out of the detox ward today, over to general population (they get mad when I call it that). This was nice actually because I wasn't supposed to get moved out until sometime later in the week. But they told me I could finish my suboxone taper on the upper floor and hurried me out.
I don’t know if it’s just my rising anticipation to make my escape or not, but it feels like there is some added tension between staff and clients recently. Seems like they are suspicious, or nervous even. I do realize this is probably just all in my head though.
I have two more days of subs then im off it completely. I’m still on Ativan and clonidine which is nice.
Entry 13 - Tuesday, 3:24 PM
My new room is pretty comfortable, surprisingly. I don't have a roomate yet so I pushed the two twin beds together now I’m sleeping like a king.
I have been scheming of ways to get to the teddy bear key ring. I need to figure something out in the next couple days while I still have access to the medication window. And now that I have access to other parts of the compound, I have also been collecting tools and other things I might need for my escape. So far, I have come up with a hammer, a phillips screwdriver, a keychain flashlight, and about 10 ft. of cable rope that I took from broken gym equipment. I was also able to talk my way into getting my small hiking backpack back from the front office to keep in my room.
Groups and classes got canceled today so I'm just chillin in the room thinking of getting high when I’m out.
Entry 14 - Wednesday, 5:40 AM
I woke up to a girl’s voice in the middle of the night. Got up and soon realized the voice was from the next room, coming in through the air vent. She was trying to get my attention. I was annoyed at first, but she just wanted someone to talk to. So I did. She turned out to be pretty chill.
Long story short, her main thing was oxy and this is her first rehab. Her name is Chloe. She finally decided to get clean after her longtime boyfriend OD’d in her arms last week. But now she is having second thoughts. She agreed that Doug is a huge dick and is a creep. He spent most of the session bragging and looking at her tits.
She said she likes to rollerblade, I thought that was rad in like an ironic kind of way. Anyway, We talked until the sun started to come up. She started snoring and, not going to lie, it was adorable to listen to. I’m glad she got some sleep.
Entry 15 - Wednesday, 8:55 AM
I was sitting at breakfast with Ben this morning trying to scope out who Chloe was when a kid I hardly know came up to us and started freaking out. He was convinced his roommate was trying to kill him. Ben got up and scared him off. It was just a weird situation. He was on the verge of tears and looked genuinely terrified.
Ben said the kid is in rehab for spice and bath salt abuse, so his paranoia actually makes sense now. He’s the guy always smoking the American Spirit cigs out on the patio. He’s like a skater punk type dude. Wears the same thing everyday. Green hoodie, black skinny jeans, and a pair on converse that look like he’s worn all his life. It’s not at all uncommon to meet people in rehab who have fried their brains with their drug use. Anyway, going to have to keep an eye out to avoid him for now, I don’t feel like dealing with other people’s drama.
going to post next entries tonight
Submitted December 25, 2017 at 01:56AM by This_is_a_rubbery http://ift.tt/2BuQ5dw opiates
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