Day 30: A month after rehab.

Once upon a time in a memory so fucking close…

I jump through books. Words can’t stick. They slide off like wasted years. The channels flip. Flip. Flip. Flip. Its like the TV has a short, a shorted light or something. Animals are eating animals, in flashes. I’m okay. Yes, I’m okay. I am worried that I will fail. I post it on the Worry Tree. I look at my Worry Tree. It is a triple canopy jungle. Every posted leaf makes me hot. I take a shower, cold. My heart beats me down, hard. My blood feels heavy like jam. Have you ever cut cold jam? It doesn’t bleed. I’m okay. Yes, I’m okay. I eat an aspirin. I lay down. I go out. It’s cold. Fucking cold. I’m sweating. Fucking sweating–you could heap the liquid. I have a beer. It taste like piss. I take a piss. I cry there. There at the urinal; I piss and cry. I go home. I lay down. I write. My brain feels like a race car trying to win a race from a lap behind–in reverse. I’m going in circles, backwards. The pen shakes. No, it is my hand that shakes: Truth is hard to write. I cry. The paper licks it, the tears. My mind at 100 mph. Backwards. I walk around the bathtub. Forward. I lay in it, the bathtub. I vomit in it. The drain eats it. I shower. I jerk off. The drain swallows it, too. I’m okay. Yes, I’m okay. I sleep, for two minutes. I wake, tired. I bite into a sandwich. I smoke a cigarette. I smoke a cigarette. I smoke a cigarette. I smoke a cigarette. I’m okay. Yes, I’m okay. The phone rings. It is Mike. The ring tones are like cocaine drips pinging the back of my throat. The phone rings. It is Mike. The phone rings. It is mike. I turn it off. Mom might call, I think.I turn it on. It rings. It’s Mike. It rings. It’s mike. I smoke a cigarette. I smoke a cigarette. I smoke a cigarette. The phone rings. It is Mike. The phone rings. It is Mike. The phone rings. “Hello, Mike.”

36 thoughts on “Day 30: A month after rehab.

  1. You’ve gone through some horrible stuff, sounds like. I’ve heard of worry trees and boxes for therapy for anxiety, particularly for children. Didn’t know it was used in addiction therapy. Writing can be so therapeutic, I’ve found. Sending hugs

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    1. The worry tree was not introduced to me in rehab. I’ve a form of anxiety since I could remember. The concept was told to me as a child. It started with writing down worry in a notebook with a pencil. Then erasing when the worry was gone. It later evolved into a box. Then a worry tree. It is a thing I’ve used for coping.

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      1. I know a little of worry boxes and trees that I’ve read. Mostly used with children, yes. I take medicine for a generalized anxiety disorder and it helps a great deal. Worry is a difficult thing. I’ve had panic attacks, too, thought I was having a heart attack, well, I was sure I was, lol. But no. Probably the cocaine was not a good way of coping, n’est ce pas?

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      2. I feel like some of us h ave addictive personalities, too, which perhaps we come by naturally. In school I drank too much, then smoked cigarettes too much, maybe other stuff but now I don’t smoke, drink a little, take meds…my dad’s father was an alcoholic. I’m glad you are better now

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  2. The way this reads is brilliant for conveying your state of mind at this time. I know this is personal, but it’s also very well written. The large block of text, the short repetitive sentences- gives it a very real sense of urgency, which is what I can imagine this felt like.

    Also- it makes me want to hold your head to my chest and stroke your hair.

    I think I told you that addiction runs in my family, right? Anyway, I’m glad this was a long time ago and that you feel better now. Big hugs. 🙂

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    1. Thank you love. You always see greatness in my work. I appreciate that bunches (not bitches). I too am glad it is a long ways away. But I am also glad it happened.

      Yes I do believe that you have mentioned that. It is life I suppose. I have been going with a buzz cut for some time now. It just makes life a little easier. But I will take my head there any day of the year.

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      1. There is lots of greatness to see. 🙂 bitches, lol 😉
        I love buzz cuts. They feel good when you stroke them. *big squishy boob hugs* They are the best. 🙂

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  3. I have never consciously fought with addiction, and I have never used a worry tree. To be honest, I didn’t know what a worry tree was until your post and a quick Google search, but there is so much in your post I feel I can relate to.

    The repetition, “I smoke a cigarette. I smoke a cigarette. I smoke a cigarette. I’m ok. I’m ok. I’m ok.”

    I have had times in my past where it feels if I were to stop whatever action I was focusing on, smoking, mindlessly gaming, hiding under the covers, cutting… If I were to try or attempt anything else then I would shatter. I wouldn’t be ok. I would fail. I would lose my internal war.

    “It” would win if I stopped, and I didn’t want “It” to win. So I would continue my action. I’m ok. I’m ok. I’m ok. I want to be ok. Please let me be ok. And always during these times there would be this consuming fear that I won’t be ok. This shapeless, oppressive darkness, always watching. Always waiting. Waiting for me to stop. Waiting for me to fail.

    We all have demons. I ache in empathy remembering my own struggles which sound so similar to yours.

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    1. Thank you for sharing that love. You hit it. I think we worry so much of not being okay, we stay in repetition of what we think is okay. If we change we won’t be okay. They say it is the fear of the unknown. Once I said fuck it and faced my fears, stepped into the unknown, a whole new world opened up to me.

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  4. I can not tell you enough that this is spot on friggen the way it is. So many times I answered that phone. Very intuitive post! I changed my number and moved. Hands still shake from time to time. I just gave up smoking so I will be ok. You have vast knowledge in the subject of addiction and I love the way you put it into live motion with your words! Thank you for the reminder that Mike may call even if I changed my number and moved. Even if I gave up cigs and now chew gum. Fucking Mike!!!

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  5. Reblogged this on Annette's place and commented:
    This writer has a way with words that is different and raw. Addiction is a topic that I will post on for time to time. It is a nightmare to deal with and this writer puts it in perspective. Mike will keep calling even if I changed my number. I now do not have to answer it. But, several times I was right where this character is….May contain stuff not suitable for kids….

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  6. This…although relating to this is not through addiction, but through the loss of love, true love, warm, admiring, glorified love, love gorgeous, love sweet, love to touch the side of his hand with mine, to play with his fingers, as he drove us in our silence while the world sped up and we stood still timeless and classic.

    Your sickness you felt…

    I was so small and fragile, and he was this gargantuan soft place I had found to frolic…I adored him, I still adore him, will always adore him to the very bitter broken end of goodbye.

    Maybe that is how this is relatable for myself in that broken bitter end of goodbye…no matter how painful we have to do it, we have to accept, we have to swallow to feel each painful moment, no matter the addictions, mind, body, heart. They are always in all ways…

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