Friday, June 27, 2014

Vacation Time

Where do people who live on the ocean go for a vacation?  To the mountains, of course.  I'm off for a week or so to the Great Smoky Mountains.  If I don't post while I'm gone, I'll do so when I next post will be something positive.  I'm tired of the negativity from my past.  Sometimes it makes me feel like I'm suffocating if I let myself get too caught up in it.  They say what doesn't kill us only makes us stronger and that's great if it's true but I don't want to have to be on oxygen just to tell some of my stories!  Time for a break!

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

The Last Mile

When I walked away there was no turning back. I knew from that point on my life would never be the same. Yes, I longed for the familiar surroundings I called home, yet that house would always remain with me no matter where I went. Running away only made the things I loved no longer a physical part of my life.

Looking back on it, I know now that my decision to leave was totally wrong, yet at the time it seemed I was trapped and had no other choices. That few weeks I spent on the psych ward after my 1st overdose, made me realize I had very few real friends. Each night when Wayne's mother came on duty, I would sit with her at the nurse's station and talk until I could fall asleep. We never once discussed her son or why I was on her floor. I knew she had read my chart and was familiar with all the notes written in it. What was there to discuss? I know I should have been ashamed, but she never made me feel uncomfortable. She talked to me as if she cared and I always appreciated that. I acted horrible during the day...defiant and always questioning authority. I refused to participate in any group therapy and used any recreation time to create weird things to decorate my room. My pride and joy were the bats I had made from modeling clay. I had painted them black with red eyes and then hung them with thread from the pipe near the ceiling in my room. It seemed everything I did was aimed at getting a reaction.

I still remember the outrage I felt when my mother had brought me an electric razor so I could shave my legs and underarms and it was immediately taken away from me. I asked if they thought I was going to shave myself to death. Surely, they couldn't think I would try to hang myself with the wasn't long enough to cause any real damage and besides hanging just isn't my style. They never did give me a reason why they took it. They didn't have to give me a reason, so I went on being my usual obnoxious self. Why they didn't medicate me was a mystery, but in reality it probably had something to do with the fact that I would have enjoyed zoning out on some good psychiatric drugs. The law required any drug overdoses to be sent to the psych ward for 2 weeks of observation after surviving the ER and the ICU, but many people weren't that lucky. For most the only trip they took was to the morgue! The two weeks I was on C-4 was some of the hardest decision making time I have ever had. Due to impaired judgement and being so screwed up, I made all the wrong decisions!

So I was alive! The overdose had not been intentional...I simply was out of control and on a very self-destructive path. I loved getting high and staying high. I feared nothing...not even death itself. I slowly retreated into a silent, safe place where I no longer felt pain. Along with feeling no pain, I discovered I also felt no happiness, joy or love. Wayne had threatened to leave me if I didn't stop getting high. Now, he was gone and I was truly alone...except for my drugs. Somehow they had replaced everything that was good or right in my life. They dulled the pain and I learned how to live being comfortable numb.

Lynne, someone I had considered a friend at the time, offered me a way out and I took it.  I believed that nothing could be worse than what I had been experiencing. It wasn't until much later until I discovered that things always can get worse. It only took me a few days after being discharged from the hospital to realize going back to school and trying to straighten out my life was just not going to happen. The day I left home, I took one last look at Wayne's house before I walked down the street and towards the interstate with Lynne. That last mile was my point of no return.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
-Robert Frost-