Rehab

[tapintoamerica]

I've been doing something for 35 years from pot to booze and, for the last 20 years, yayo, my shining star in the universe. It's the only thing that matters to me, the only thing that brings joy to my life, and I don't ever want to stop which is why doing this rehab thing seems silly. But I've thrown it all away … like, everything and am way too embarrassed to even discuss that part ..: and can't do it now. The fear is when I do get a few bucks. // I appreciate the concern and love on this thread. Good luck Swingline, I know where you are right now. And I'm proud of you, Creosote, I doubt I'll get to where you are now.

Don’t doubt yourself.
Your willingness to do rehab and to reveal it suggest you can win this.

 

[Deskgrunt50]

Wish I could add something profound or helpful, but all I can do is back up what everyone has said here in support. You've taken a big step. One of many.

 

[Batman]

Good luck, and stay strong. We're all rooting for you. But remember that when that 2 a.m. moment hits where you want to give in, no one — not here, not your therapists, no one in the rehab — can help you, other than you. The willpower to "just say no," to borrow a phrase, has to come from within yourself.
You got this, man.

 

[MisterCreosote]

I've been doing something for 35 years from pot to booze and, for the last 20 years, yayo, my shining star in the universe. It's the only thing that matters to me, the only thing that brings joy to my life, and I don't ever want to stop which is why doing this rehab thing seems silly. But I've thrown it all away … like, everything and am way too embarrassed to even discuss that part ..: and can't do it now. The fear is when I do get a few bucks. // I appreciate the concern and love on this thread. Good luck Swingline, I know where you are right now. And I'm proud of you, Creosote, I doubt I'll get to where you are now.

Sounds like inpatient treatment may be beneficial, for at least a few days.

That can make all the difference during the hardest part of recovery. Medications to ease the physical withdrawal symptoms, and a few days of not-as-intense craving but not chasing, while in semi-isolation, can help give a taste of what a relief it can be to not have/want to chase anymore.

That’s what I remember most: The absolute relief of not having to constantly think where the next fix was coming from.

 

[Matt1735]

Echoing the positive vibes for you! It won't be easy, but have faith that you can be successful!

 

[Songbird]

It's been a week but that's mostly because of circumstance.

Mind, body, and soul change after a week without ... which is why I may seem more chipper the last few days.

That'll likely change soon as I get a few bucks.

That's just how it is right now.

I'm in love with my shining star.

Can't wait to see her again.

A wise man told me the other day that she hates me and wants to take me down.

Me: And I'm going to let her.

Me: Hate love is still love.

Me: No different than women who stay with men who beat them silly.

Wise Man: Yeah, but you're rational enough to see how dumb that is.

Me: Rationale does not exist when you're deep in the throes of love.

I'LL STILL GO to Friday's counseling session. I asked for a less-cocky counselor. They gave me one.

In the interim, as life normalizes until I fall back down, I'll keep taking photos.

Sunday was the annual parade to celebrate our victory in the Revolutionary War on 8/16/1777.

Madonna was born on 8/16 and Elvis died on 8/16.

Without this town America would not exist quite literally. We'd sip tea 6 times a day. And be subjected to Monty Python.

A local guy created a character called Colonial Man ... official mascot of the 250th anniversary of our victory (in 2027).

Colonial Man helped usher in Sunday's parade and yukked it up for the crowd ...

... seconds later his little girl ran thru parade walkers, into the middle of the intersection, and real life took over.

This is not an easy thread to be a part of and I appreciate your love, honesty, encouragement.

And your patience ... if you want to understand what being a junkie is like physically, emotionally, spiritually.

 

[dixiehack]

Rooting for you hard in the spiritual plane Songbird.

 

[Here me roar]

It's okay to love something from afar.

 

[Inky_Wretch]

It's been a week but that's mostly because of circumstance.

Mind, body, and soul change after a week without ... which is why I may seem more chipper the last few days.

That'll likely change soon as I get a few bucks.

That's just how it is right now.

I'm in love with my shining star.

Can't wait to see her again.

A wise man told me the other day that she hates me and wants to take me down.

Me: And I'm going to let her.

Me: Hate love is still love.

Me: No different than women who stay with men who beat them silly.

Wise Man: Yeah, but you're rational enough to see how dumb that is.

Me: Rationale does not exist when you're deep in the throes of love.

I'LL STILL GO to Friday's counseling session. I asked for a less-cocky counselor. They gave me one.

In the interim, as life normalizes until I fall back down, I'll keep taking photos.

Sunday was the annual parade to celebrate our victory in the Revolutionary War on 8/16/1777.

Madonna was born on 8/16 and Elvis died on 8/16.

Without this town America would not exist quite literally. We'd sip tea 6 times a day. And be subjected to Monty Python.

A local guy created a character called Colonial Man ... official mascot of the 250th anniversary of our victory (in 2027).

Colonial Man helped usher in Sunday's parade and yukked it up for the crowd ...

... seconds later his little girl ran thru parade walkers, into the middle of the intersection, and real life took over.

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This is not an easy thread to be a part of and I appreciate your love, honesty, encouragement.

And your patience ... if you want to understand what being a junkie is like physically, emotionally, spiritually.

I think you've made two references to relapsing once you've got some money saved up. Do you have anybody you can trust to hold that cash so you don't use it for that? Are there other things you could earmark it for? Go put money down on a new camera or something?

 

[Songbird]

This is their most mature song.

To answer Inky's question: no.

But I'll try not to fall down.





We live a dying dreeeeeeam
If you know what I mean.
/
Catch the wheel that breaks the butterfly
I cried the rain that fills the ocean wide
I tried to talk with God to no avail
Calling my name and out of nowhere
I said "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time"

Edit: The video gets it right to the bone.

 

[BTExpress]

I had to scroll a bit to find yayo

I only know it because Al Pacino ad-libbed it in the chainsaw scene in Scarface.

 

[Songbird]

Went for a walk as the sun was going down last night.

It's somewhat amusing when the universe speaks to you when you least expect it (sidewalk message).

 

[MisterCreosote]

To this day, Alice in Chains’ Dirt album is the most raw, honest reflection of a person hopelessly in the throes of addiction that I’ve ever heard.

It’s Layne Staley’s love note to heroin, even while fully acknowledging that it would be what kills him.

With a hazy mind, it made perfect sense.

With a clear mind, it’s unspeakably sad.

 

[Songbird]

To this day, Alice in Chains' Dirt album is the most raw, honest reflection of a person hopelessly in the throes of addiction that I've ever heard.

It's Layne Staley's love note to heroin, even while fully acknowledging that it would be what kills him.

With a hazy mind, it made perfect sense.

With a clear mind, it's unspeakably sad.

I've watched this video a thousand times the last 6 months.

Different drug. Same stranglehold.



Am I wrong?
Have I run too far to get home? Yeah
Have I gone?
And left you here alone?

 

[swingline]

And then Layne was dead two weeks when they found him.

My cousin was only dead two or three days when she was found.

 

[Songbird]

And then Layne was dead two weeks when they found him.

This was an active thread here 10 years ago though having nothing to do with the subject matter of this thread:


By N. R. Kleinfield

• Oct. 17, 2015

They found him in the living room, crumpled up on the mottled carpet. The police did. Sniffing a fetid odor, a neighbor had called 911. The apartment was in north-central Queens, in an unassertive building on 79th Street in Jackson Heights.

The apartment belonged to a George Bell. He lived alone. Thus the presumption was that the corpse also belonged to George Bell. It was a plausible supposition, but it remained just that, for the puffy body on the floor was decomposed and unrecognizable. Clearly the man had not died on July 12, the Saturday last year when he was discovered, nor the day before nor the day before that. He had lain there for a while, nothing to announce his departure to the world, while the hyperkinetic city around him hurried on with its business.

Neighbors had last seen him six days earlier, a Sunday. On Thursday, there was a break in his routine. The car he always kept out front and moved from one side of the street to the other to obey parking rules sat on the wrong side. A ticket was wedged beneath the wiper. The woman next door called Mr. Bell. His phone rang and rang.

Then the smell of death and the police and the sobering reason that George Bell did not move his car.

Each year around 50,000 people die in New York, and each year the mortality rate seems to graze a new low, with people living healthier and longer. A great majority of the deceased have relatives and friends who soon learn of their passing and tearfully assemble at their funeral. A reverent death notice appears. Sympathy cards accumulate. When the celebrated die or there is some heart-rending killing of the innocent, the entire city might weep.

Read the rest: The Lonely Death of George Bell (Published 2015)

 

[BYH 2: Electric Boogaloo]

To this day, Alice in Chains' Dirt album is the most raw, honest reflection of a person hopelessly in the throes of addiction that I've ever heard.

It's Layne Staley's love note to heroin, even while fully acknowledging that it would be what kills him.

With a hazy mind, it made perfect sense.

With a clear mind, it's unspeakably sad.

It'll never not amaze me that Alice In Chains' first big tour (or at least a very early one) was opening for POISON. I mean, I love Poison and all, but they're not writing the most jarring smack songs of all-time.

 

[MisterCreosote]

It'll never not amaze me that Alice In Chains' first big tour (or at least a very early one) was opening for POISON. I mean, I love Poison and all, but they're not writing the most jarring smack songs of all-time.

Yeah, in the "Alice 'N' Chains" days, when they actually were a hair metal band, so it kind of fit. They only became "Alice in Chains" after Cantrell joined the band.

This is a great time capsule photo of Staley all glammed out:

 

[Songbird]

Day 11 without ... at some point I'll stop counting because you shouldn't count these kinds of things.

Tele-ppointment this morning with a new person was much more relaxed.

She wants me on a newer drug but I'm unwilling because of potential kidney stones; I'll stay on Baclofen.

Then they took blood to look at my liver and kidney functions and for other stuffs.

 

[Shropshire Slasher]

This was an active thread here 10 years ago though having nothing to do with the subject matter of this thread:


By N. R. Kleinfield

• Oct. 17, 2015

They found him in the living room, crumpled up on the mottled carpet. The police did. Sniffing a fetid odor, a neighbor had called 911. The apartment was in north-central Queens, in an unassertive building on 79th Street in Jackson Heights.

The apartment belonged to a George Bell. He lived alone. Thus the presumption was that the corpse also belonged to George Bell. It was a plausible supposition, but it remained just that, for the puffy body on the floor was decomposed and unrecognizable. Clearly the man had not died on July 12, the Saturday last year when he was discovered, nor the day before nor the day before that. He had lain there for a while, nothing to announce his departure to the world, while the hyperkinetic city around him hurried on with its business.

Neighbors had last seen him six days earlier, a Sunday. On Thursday, there was a break in his routine. The car he always kept out front and moved from one side of the street to the other to obey parking rules sat on the wrong side. A ticket was wedged beneath the wiper. The woman next door called Mr. Bell. His phone rang and rang.

Then the smell of death and the police and the sobering reason that George Bell did not move his car.

Each year around 50,000 people die in New York, and each year the mortality rate seems to graze a new low, with people living healthier and longer. A great majority of the deceased have relatives and friends who soon learn of their passing and tearfully assemble at their funeral. A reverent death notice appears. Sympathy cards accumulate. When the celebrated die or there is some heart-rending killing of the innocent, the entire city might weep.

Read the rest: The Lonely Death of George Bell (Published 2015)

I think I remember this story. The nuts and bolts of dealing with the estate of a guy without a will or known relatives.