August 26th, 2012
It's strange that as time goes by and I continue to write in this journal my hand writing has changed and improved so much, I've even noticed that based on my mood certain aspects of my cursive change. (Not that you could tell by this transcription of my journal). Lately it's been looking more and more like my mothers handwriting. Today I'm going to apply at k-mart for a janitor position. I heard about the opening from young man at the shelter. He also told me he's broke up with his pregnant girlfriend and is living with another woman, whom he introduced me to on the spot but I can't remember her name. Weird the things a perfect stranger will tell you in casual conversation. Caught her friends name well enough though. Chelsea. I liked Chelsea right away, something about her reminded me of 'SW' back in my hometown. It was probably the motherly thing she did with the napkins at the soup kitchen, setting a big stack of them in the middle of the table for everyone to use. I probably had something in my beard, eating without having to take a shower is a skill when you have as much facial hair as I do. It's bound to catch something. I'm proud of my beard, it's a symbol of my sobriety and I haven't shaved or trimmed it since I got sober. My plans to reinvigorate my job search were interrupted by Matt, not my alter ego, an actual person who used to stay at the shelter. I've heard some low-bottom stories since I joined the programs but Matts sticks out to me as particularly tragic. Matt found his grandmothers pill drawer when he was 9 years old and has been self medicating ever since. Matt is a musician and fairly talented, he used to be semi-famous in fact, but his upshot in 'usage' followed and eventually hollowed out his career in music. He feels very alone having lost so many friends to the darker part of the music scene. Matt came to talk to me at the soup kitchen while I was outside smoking. Basically he informed me that he was in the middle of a drug binge that started five days ago, wanted to kill himself, and in a moment of clarity decided that he should seek some sobriety.
" Now that I've started I know where it ends up... and I don't want to go there." Matt took a drag off his cigar and looked me in the eye before telling me exactly what he'd been up to the last five days.
"Been drinking forties at night and smoking weed in the mornings to take the edge off. Hangovers keep getting worse though and I'm afraid if I run into the wrong person I might try to score some Heroin right now.." Matt looked around then dropped his cigar on the sidewalk and stepped on it.
"I'll walk you to the hospital right now if you want." I stated flatly.
"Really??"
I nodded.
"Well how far is it? Where is it??." Asked Matt, looking around.
"It's about a block from the Quick Mart."
"Over the bridge?" Matt asked, lowering his voice.
I nodded again.
"Yeah but how far is it man??"
" About six blocks give or take."
After some more deliberation and some more questions from Matt, we went. I stayed with Matt for nearly four hours talking to him while different doctors shuffled in and out of the inbound patient room. Along with different nurses, poking, prodding, doing what they do. Max takes a lot of legitimate medications too, his biggest gripe was about the seroquil he was prescribed a few weeks ago. He had been taking an ungodly amount of that shit, something like 800 milligrams a day. After some 'himmin' and 'hawin' Matt decided to commit himself to few days of treatment as an inpatient before deciding if he'd continue on to a recovery center.
" If it wasn't for this guy I wouldn't be here." He told one of the nurses... well actually he told all the nurses at different times. "You're a lifesaver man."
But I think in his own way Matt saved me too. People haven't given up on me yet, and I'm not in the business of giving up on anyone. No matter how far down they are. I gave Matt a hug and my phone number and left the hospital shortly thereafter. Walked to the library and applied at K-mart through their website. Was able to get a bed at the shelter and spent the rest of the evening reading a copy of 'The Lotus Sutra' I bought for two dollars at a church book sale.
It's strange that as time goes by and I continue to write in this journal my hand writing has changed and improved so much, I've even noticed that based on my mood certain aspects of my cursive change. (Not that you could tell by this transcription of my journal). Lately it's been looking more and more like my mothers handwriting. Today I'm going to apply at k-mart for a janitor position. I heard about the opening from young man at the shelter. He also told me he's broke up with his pregnant girlfriend and is living with another woman, whom he introduced me to on the spot but I can't remember her name. Weird the things a perfect stranger will tell you in casual conversation. Caught her friends name well enough though. Chelsea. I liked Chelsea right away, something about her reminded me of 'SW' back in my hometown. It was probably the motherly thing she did with the napkins at the soup kitchen, setting a big stack of them in the middle of the table for everyone to use. I probably had something in my beard, eating without having to take a shower is a skill when you have as much facial hair as I do. It's bound to catch something. I'm proud of my beard, it's a symbol of my sobriety and I haven't shaved or trimmed it since I got sober. My plans to reinvigorate my job search were interrupted by Matt, not my alter ego, an actual person who used to stay at the shelter. I've heard some low-bottom stories since I joined the programs but Matts sticks out to me as particularly tragic. Matt found his grandmothers pill drawer when he was 9 years old and has been self medicating ever since. Matt is a musician and fairly talented, he used to be semi-famous in fact, but his upshot in 'usage' followed and eventually hollowed out his career in music. He feels very alone having lost so many friends to the darker part of the music scene. Matt came to talk to me at the soup kitchen while I was outside smoking. Basically he informed me that he was in the middle of a drug binge that started five days ago, wanted to kill himself, and in a moment of clarity decided that he should seek some sobriety.
" Now that I've started I know where it ends up... and I don't want to go there." Matt took a drag off his cigar and looked me in the eye before telling me exactly what he'd been up to the last five days.
"Been drinking forties at night and smoking weed in the mornings to take the edge off. Hangovers keep getting worse though and I'm afraid if I run into the wrong person I might try to score some Heroin right now.." Matt looked around then dropped his cigar on the sidewalk and stepped on it.
"I'll walk you to the hospital right now if you want." I stated flatly.
"Really??"
I nodded.
"Well how far is it? Where is it??." Asked Matt, looking around.
"It's about a block from the Quick Mart."
"Over the bridge?" Matt asked, lowering his voice.
I nodded again.
"Yeah but how far is it man??"
" About six blocks give or take."
After some more deliberation and some more questions from Matt, we went. I stayed with Matt for nearly four hours talking to him while different doctors shuffled in and out of the inbound patient room. Along with different nurses, poking, prodding, doing what they do. Max takes a lot of legitimate medications too, his biggest gripe was about the seroquil he was prescribed a few weeks ago. He had been taking an ungodly amount of that shit, something like 800 milligrams a day. After some 'himmin' and 'hawin' Matt decided to commit himself to few days of treatment as an inpatient before deciding if he'd continue on to a recovery center.
" If it wasn't for this guy I wouldn't be here." He told one of the nurses... well actually he told all the nurses at different times. "You're a lifesaver man."
But I think in his own way Matt saved me too. People haven't given up on me yet, and I'm not in the business of giving up on anyone. No matter how far down they are. I gave Matt a hug and my phone number and left the hospital shortly thereafter. Walked to the library and applied at K-mart through their website. Was able to get a bed at the shelter and spent the rest of the evening reading a copy of 'The Lotus Sutra' I bought for two dollars at a church book sale.
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