Book of Jamez

55 y/o malcontent, something of a writer

Tag: drug addict

  • Losing the Battle

    Losing the Battle

    Around three months ago I was approached by a friend, he wanted to have dinner. I asked if Indian was okay and he said it was. We met at my favorite Indian restaurant on a Wednesday night and had delicious food. I just thought he wanted to have dinner.

    He then started to tell me about the mess he had gotten into – he was using heavy drugs, couldn’t stop and was doing some rather dangerous ones and dealing with some sketchy characters.

    I’m pretty open about being clean and sober, talk about it, post about it and celebrate it. So he knew I was someone who might be able to help. I was mostly a drunk when I was using – lots of alcohol and a few drugs when they were available.

    He talked about his drugs of choice and what it was like for him. He was concerned with how he was presenting himself and if others had noticed him acting strangely. I was honest with him – yes some people had questioned his behavior and demeanor. He didn’t like that he was obviously showing signs of the drug use. Then he pulled up his sleeves to show me track marks and told me how bad it really was getting.

    I have a friend or two in N.A. and I got him hooked up with them and a good meeting and he promised to go. He did reach out to the members and attended a meeting, where he rambled on and on for a few minutes but wasn’t very coherent, I’m told. He wouldn’t go back to the meeting, see he had a history of attending N.A. before and had had this demon to fight in the past, but it had reemerged and was winning this time.

    My friend kept on telling me he “knew what to do” just needed help doing it, but he wouldn’t use the only tools I knew to use – meetings, program and fellowship. He continued his downward spiral and again asked me for help.

    I talked to him about the Employee Assistants Program (EAP) at work and how we could get some help. That they may be able to find him a facility to detox and get better with help. He was on board and we worked with the bosses, EAP and got him lined up with a treatment center. He was hesitantly on board with treatment, he’d done it before though and had some old ideas that were keeping him from being fully committed I think.

    He did a couple weeks in the treatment center and left early. He couldn’t be around those types of people and couldn’t relate to their problems, he was different. One of the things they talk about in A.A. is how thinking your case is different is a way to get yourself killed.

    My friend took some common steps that we see in addiction – he did a geographic, thinking if he moved away from the problem it would help. He thought keeping busy with work would help. But he had the dark web and access to anything with the click of a few buttons.

    He called me Friday night for some help with a work problem. I paused my game and tried to help him. He told me he was “in Costa Rica for a tattoo”. That’s the last I heard from him.

    Today we were told at work that he had died. There were no details released yet but I have a few theories. There were many tears shed.

    I left A.A. a few years ago. I haven’t regretted that until today when I was ruing over the steps I had taken to help my friend and if I had done enough. Even wondering if I was just so out of touch with recovery now that I couldn’t reach my friend with a message he would hear.

    My friends assure me there wasn’t anything more I could do, that I did the right things and led the way for a solution, a way out.

    I am sad and mad about my friend. He was so young and so crazy full of life. I never knew what bullshit would come out of his mouth but I would usually laugh. We had opposing political views but could converse about issues without losing our shit. He had this deep desire to love other people. He loved his toys and his friends.

    I’m sorry that he found himself on a dark journey, I know it was hard for him to get out of.

    There is hope for the hopeless. Reach out to me, reach out to family or friends or the EAP. You can reach out to A.A. or N.A. or a million other A’s too.

    I will miss him.

  • Trip at the Dentist

    So yesterday I broke a tooth while munching on hard sourdough pretzels at home. I wasn’t in any pain, but I knew I would have to call the dentist and see him. So I called late in the afternoon and sure enough they scheduled me for 7:30 this morning. Joy. So this morning I woke at the usual time and left early for the long walk to the dentist.

    Deep breaths, deep breaths, prayer mantras, deep breaths… slow and steady, imagine your somewhere else.

    Once I was seated in the chair and they took a look at what they had to work with the dentist – a new guy I’d never had before which just adds to my anxiety – starts to explain the procedure to me and show me a short video of the deal. I ask him to stop and explain that all of that just adds to my anxiety. Yes, yes, anything at the dentist can add to my anxiety apparently. They give me a local and then a shot of Novocaine and do an x-ray to check out the whole area and then bring me back to my seat and ask if I’m numb… but I’m not. I wonder if being a drug addict/alcoholic has raised made me less susceptible to Novocaine as I almost always need two shots. Then they start the nitrous oxide, which I get to try to calm me down more, they leave me to let all the drugs take effect… Then the unexpected happens, unexpected for me but one of the dental hygienists says its common.

    I start to trip out. I mean full blown hallucination trip to never never land. The world started spinning away. Words, music and sounds started to skip and warp into unrecognizable noises. Though still in the dentist chair I feel like I’m speeding forward and a thousand miles an hour and can feel the wind blowing through my hair – when did I get hair? Then I was walking on a beach wondering how I got there and a very small part of me remembered where I was and struggled to grasp on to something real. I panic when nothing I grasp for is solid.  Damn this feels great, I’m not supposed to feel this way, I’m not supposed to do these things anymore. Then a small panic sets in an I wonder if I’ve relapsed and created an elaborate story where I’ve broken a tooth just so I could trip and get away with it. (I have drinking dreams like that sometimes, and I spend most of the dream wondering which reality is reality and which is dream)

    Fortunately the dentist and his assistant come in then and while they’re working on me all the hallucinations stop, I’m stationary, I’m calm, I feel no pain – just the occasional feeling that I’m drowning when there is too much water in my mouth and before I know it they’ve stopped again and leave me for a short while – and zoom I’m off to the races again. The world warps away and is replaced by something else entirely that I know isn’t real and is just an effect of the gas – at this point I’m so freaked out about the experience I yank the gas off my face and breathe through my mouth for a good long while. When the dental hygienist comes in he asks what’s wrong…

    I point to the gas and say “Nothing, everything, that was good and bad… I can’t have that anymore. I started hallucinating”

    “Yeah, that happens a lot” he says

    Never to me before, really shook me up today. Maybe they could just knock me out when I go to the dentist and wake me when it’s all over?