An Alcoholics Story

Simon Says:
I just continued doing what I always did while living there, smoking meth, drinking vodka and tweek'n out on my little electronic projects. Got into playing a couple of video games too. The two people that Mark left there would come to my room and we would party while I kept tinkering with my electronic crap. Any tweeker will tell you that there's something about electronic junk that seems fascinating when your smoking meth. I can't remember how long they stayed there but it seemed like maybe a week. One day Jim (I'll call him Jim cause I can't remember his name) ran out of meth and asked me if I could get him some. I said sure, so I called up this dope dealer I knew and an hour later he shows up with a teener. A teener is 1/16th of an ounce. I brought it downstairs for Jim and we were going to smoke some only Jim didn't have a bubble. A bubble is a glass pipe you use to smoke meth with, I think I explained all that in one of my earlier posts. By the way, if your reading this and want to read the whole story you've got to go back maybe ten or so posts where I started telling this story, it's kinda long but a lots happened to me since I was last actively posting to this blog.


Anyway I went upstairs to get a bubble and and all of a sudden there's a loud bang at the kitchen door, followed by more consecutive loud smashing bangs and then I heard someone yell, “this is the police open up”. We were being raided by the cops and it seemed like it took them about ten seconds to smash the kitchen door open. I was standing in the hall upstairs with the bubble in my hand. At the end of the hall is a bathroom and the door was open so I took the bubble and through it as hard as I could into the bathroom. The pipe shattered in the bathroom and by the time I turned around the cops were storm troop'n the house. I stepped back in my room and didn't bother closing the door. I didn't even have time to sit down when a couple of cops charged in my room and started yelling at me to get down on the floor. They had their guns out and they were pointed right in my face. I was kind of expecting this was going to happen one of these days so I never kept any shit in my room, just alcohol. They handcuffed me and brought me into the living room where the girl had been all along. They made us sit on the couch together and I was worried about Jim downstairs, I had just handed him a teener and I wasn't sure if he was smart enough to get rid of it quick enough. A couple minutes later they brought Jim upstairs and had him sit on the couch along with me and his sister. The place was swarming with cops, I would guess maybe fifteen of them. I just sat on the couch with my mouth shut. Jim's sister was drunk and was giving the cops a little shit now and then. Telling this story is making me nauseous. They wouldn't let us watch them search the house and they tore it completely apart. They trashed the whole place and took a bunch of stuff. I guess it was stuff on their stolen property list. They were there looking for both drugs and stolen property. The whole raid was because of Mark getting busted with a truckload of stolen property. The cops got a search warrant to search his place of residence for more stolen goods and while they were at it they were searching for methamphetamine and paraphernalia. They didn't find any drugs or paraphernalia but they did find a lot of stolen property. I think they were there for a little over two hours and they left. They left with the stolen property but didn't charge us with anything. So the raid was over and the house was completely trashed. I needed a drink and I had one, a big one. I was thinking that they could have arrested me because I was the only one there that actually lived there. I was really surprised when they gave me a copy of the search warrant and a list of items they confiscated and then just left.


I called Mike and the dude that brought the teener over after the cops left. I called the dope dealer to find out if he didn't have an encounter with the cops as he left the house. He said no, didn't see a thing. I don't think we were set up but the cops were probably watching the dope dealer too. What would be a better time to raid the house than just after he left. I put my room back in order and that's it, I just left the rest of the house as the cops left it. Jim said he threw the teener in the water softener so we went to check for it. The cops had looked in the water softener because the lid was off, there was no salt in the water softener, just water. The teener wasn't there, it would've been floating on the water being in a tiny zip lock baggy. I didn't know what to think about that, either Jim was bullshitting me or the cop that found it kept it and didn't say anything. I'm thinking the cop took it for his own use. All this time Rick is still in the psych ward and Mark is in Jail. Mark is a convicted felon and I don't think he'll be out anytime soon. A couple of days went by and nothing changed. Then the bitch from hell shows up, Mush and she says she's moving back in. She's being really nice to me but wants Jim and his sister to get out. Actually she say's that her mother wanted them out and she wasn't nice about it. I just went back to my room and continued getting fucked up. Jim and his sister left and I stayed there for a few more days by myself. Mush and her boyfriend stopped by every now and then moving their shit in. I guess they were moving back in, that meant I was moving out. I didn't know where I was going to go but I knew I wasn't going to stay there. Mike would stop by every now and then and we would get high together, then one day while leaving the house he got pulled over on his bike. Mike got arrested on his warrant and off to jail he went. I spent a few days getting totally toasted trying to figure out where I was going to go next. Rick got released from the psych ward and we hung out for a couple of days but the whole time I was trying to figure out a way to leave. I didn't have a car and that made it tough, besides I was toasted most of the time and once again I couldn't stop drinking. Every time I looked at Ricks sister I would get pissed but there was nothing I could do. Finally I reached the end of my rope and I called my old AA sponsor and told him I needed help. I told him where I was and told him I needed a ride to the hospital to detox. I hadn't talked to my old AA sponsor in about a year and a half, just before I fell off the wagon and got into all this shit. He said to sit tight and he would come get me and we both knew where I was going, back to the hospital. I was pretty fucked up when he got there and I had a fresh bottle of vodka. We sat and talked for a few minutes and I continued drinking. Then we left for the hospital, I didn't take anything with me, we just walked out the door and got in the car. I didn't want to go to Regions because I'd been there too many consecutive times in the past few months. I wanted to go to Fairview Riverside so that's where we went.


I had really hard time detoxing in the hospital. I was dope sick and detoxing from alcohol at the same time. Once I was detoxed I was put in the psych ward again and this time the doctors petitioned the court to have me committed. I had to go to court for the commitment and the sheriff picked me up at the hospital and drove me to court. I'm not even sure what court house I was in but the judge gave me a stay of commitment which is like being on probation only maybe a little worse. In my case it was a good thing. When you get on a stay of commitment they assign you a social worker and you have to cooperate and comply with the social worker's recommendations. When they thought I was well enough to be released from the psych ward I was brought right to Theo1 for MICD (mentally ill chemically dependent) treatment. I'd been through treatment there before as you know if you've read my earlier posts. While I was in treatment at Theo1 I had to go to court for that DWI I talked about earlier. Actually I had several charges and I think I got lucky because they combined all the charges into one and gave me ten days in Jail and two years probation. While I was in Theo1 I fucked up and smoked some weed with another dude going through treatment there. I knew they could UA me any time but I'd never been UA'd there in the past. The next day after smoking the joint they UA'd me. I told them right away that my UA was going to be dirty and by some weird coincidence they UA'd the guy I smoked the joint with at the same time. I don't usually believe in coincidence and I'm thinking someone saw us. I don't know why but the other guy didn't want them to know we smoked together so I lied and told them I had smoked it with someone else. I don't think it really mattered who or where only that I was in treatment on a commitment and I got caught smoking weed. It was a little weird because I've been in a similar situation in the past and I ended up in front of a judge getting my commitment extended for another six months. This time nothing happened, they told my social worker about it and they just let it go. I guess smoking a joint was kind of mild compared to what I was committed for. They let the other dude go too, no consequences. Then one day this dude asked me if I wanted to snort some methamphetamine and this time I said nope. He went ahead and did it and once again he was UA'd a couple days later and got busted again. This time he was kicked out, I just know if I would have snorted some they would've UA'd me too. It was like they had ESP or something.


I completed 45 days of inpatient treatment at Theo1 and while I was there I was able to find an apartment in St.Paul. My social worker turned me on to the place because they didn't require credit checks. I checked it out and they rented me an apartment with no hassles. I rented the apartment a couple weeks before I was released from treatment. When I was released I was transferred directly to jail. I don't like jail at all but I can endure it. The worst part of doing time in jail is dealing with the guards. It's like most of them are on a real power trip. Ten days is a cake walk and it was over fast enough. I was in Hastings again and this time I had a place to go so I called a cab and went straight from jail to my new apartment. That's where I am right now as I write this story. I've been here since like mid September 2011. When I moved in here I had nothing but a small duffel bag and a backpack. I had left the duffel bag here before I served my jail sentence and that's all I had. An empty apartment with two bags and a couple changes of clothes. I also had an old beat up TV and a play station2. I had bought them for fifty bucks from another guy in treatment and had also brought them to my apartment before I went to jail. First thing I did was call a cab. I went to Walmart and bought a cheap lawn chair and an air bed, then to the liquor store and I bought a bottle of vodka. I just thought I deserved a drink after everything I had just went through. For me it was the wrong thing to do.


When I got home from Walmart and the liquor store I had a drink and started unpacking my bags. My apartment has a pretty nice walk in closet with shelves in it so at least I had a place to put my clothes. All I could think about was all the stuff I had lost in the last couple years and now I had to start over again, only this time I was really going to get sober and stay that way. The bottle I bought was going to be my last. As I was unpacking my stuff I noticed that the jail had given me my Trazadone but the rest of my medication wasn't there. Uh oh, I can't afford to be off my meds, every time I've stopped taking my medication it's ended up in disaster. I just know the guards at the jail did this on purpose, they are the biggest fucking pricks on earth, way worse than regular cops. I figured there was no use in trying to get my meds back from the jail and the kind of meds I take require a prescription from a psychiatrist. I had enough meds to get me through until I found a new psychiatrist but now I didn't. I went off my medication and that bottle I bought led to another and another. I ended up right back in the same boat, I couldn't stop drinking. It's not very easy to get an appointment with a psychiatrist and when you do it's normally at least two or three weeks out. Well, I was drinking again and I didn't even bother trying to get an appointment with a psychiatrist. The first month of my drinking I was able to sober up enough for my appointments with my social worker and my probation officer. Then it got so bad I couldn't sober up at all. I really wanted to be sober, I just couldn't do it, I would get sicker than hell when I tried to sober up. It wasn't long before my kitchen counter was covered in empty vodka bottles and I couldn't fool anyone anymore. I did want help and the next time my social worker stopped by to check on me I didn't bother trying to sober up or hide all my empty vodka bottles. I knew I was in trouble and the only was I was going to get sober was to go back to the hospital to be detoxed again.