Course it'd be the longest day that'd have me staring at the tarp flappin over my head. Can't sleep. I need to prove a point, again, and exhaustion usually helps that effort. Wide awake tho.
Insomnia is one of the first signs fer me.
It sets in quick. 29 hours.
My legs are starting to cramp up and I feel feverish.
48 hours starts to feel like dyin.
Scuse me while I have a Lfetime movie moment.
It was always easiest to kick opiate addictions in the winter for me cuz the cold weather would have me freezin half to death anyway an I wouldn't notice the chills and shivers. The hot spells...well, I'd just go outside half nekkid for a bit and cool off.
Worst part for me was always that feelin in my brain and base a my skull. Felt like my head was full o fiberglass insulation and superheated sand and put in a C clamp vise, one fulcrum between my eyes and the other right below the lil bump at the base a my skull. My eyes would itch. My teeth felt like pressure was buildin in em like an airplane ride. I'd punch walls and headbutt stuff. Put my Kabar on a gas grill and then brand my shins. Pain to replace pain.
It worked. Sometimes.
Fuckin bullshit worthless fuckin W. Reed.
"Here, take these and these and soma these, an you'll be fine" fuck you.
Vicoden is a shit sub for morphine.
But always, it was I'm fine. I'm fine. Cuz people from where I'm from don't get crazy. Just don't happen. Intolerant fuckheads mostly. Ran Anna outta town cuz she read some books on Wicca.
First "real" lock up was simple possession. Jus prescription shit. Nothin serious. No jail time jus court ordered NA-AA.
Bad coffee and donuts at stupid little KC halls and VFWs and choir rooms at small churches with drive thru quality signs out front in nowhere little towns. And I was always better off than the methheads, an crackheads, and the junkies. But problem w AA an NA for someone like me...is I just saw a room full of future connects.
I wasn't a junkie. Junkies were fuck ups who had bad skin and couldn't function normal. I could punch in a 12 hour shift someplace. Then L10s weren't enough. Then Perks got weak. Then the roxies. Then the OCs.
Then I had weeks where I couldn't wear short sleeves to work.
No PTSD here tho. No sir. I'm fine. I was jus gon plow through that.
Then I plowed through a Taco Bell plate glass window on my bike. Laid out fucked up on the dinning room floor for a few. Got up an crawled to a booth. Cashier ran over to help me, asked if I was ok.
I spit a tooth across the table and was pickin glass outta my hands. Then I told her I needed two Supreme Burritos, a cheesy gordita crunch, Mountain Dew, an goddamn when did ya'll start waiting tables? That's fuckin awesome ma'am!!
I was bleedin all over my Chucks. Said somethin like "God, I don't see ya yet. You must not want me...yet...I hope. Meaning I hope ya want me someday...jus not today."
I'd eaten by time EMS showed up. Tried given the rest of my lil cinnamon twists to the first medic on scene. Then I told him to radio for air support. NOW, corpsman!!
They wouldn't give me anything in the ambo. Said I wouldn't feel it anyway.
Told the medic to keep my bike.
Became a guest of the great State of Wisconsin. I'd like to say some shit like It was good for my street cred, but the reality of it was I was just another fuck up from some dipshit town that killed babies for a few years and came back with a sob story and drug addiction. Jail ain't the place ya wanna dry out either.
Out in 6 months. Parole waved if I left the state and didn't come back. Fuck Milwaukee anyway.
But I kicked it 3 times. Cold turkey. No help. 3 times. I'll tell ya bout the other two some other time.
Course now there's suboxone, if ya can get it. Hard to round up sometimes.
Shift is startin in 15. I made my point. Went 30 hours with the short term answer in my pocket the whole time.
Now scuse me while I shave down some milligrams. It's aight, I got this under control.