Cocaine Addiction

I need to talk about a dream I had the other night – nothing really but I can’t settle down – I feel as though something in my life has changed – or that something has got to change.

The dream itself was simple – in the dream there was a little bird – the little bird was dead.

By the way, my name is Gary. All my life I’ve been an actor – into movies – put there, encouraged, by my mother. Always been very ambitious for me since I was a kid –I thought acting was the way to go, something I could do – it made her proud of me.

Got to hanging out with the movie crews – used to drink beer with them after a shoot and do marijuana – made me feel grown up – usually there was no other kids around to play with. I was never encouraged to do much school – no, I was always going to be a famous actor one day – it’s been my only life.

Well no, I never made the big time, although I get regular work – use cocaine to fill in the time until I’ve got work again – sometimes it makes me a bit tense these days – it’s a long time now since cocaine gave me a buzz like it used to when I was a kid. What I‘ve found is that I need cocaine to get me awake in the morning – or probably early afternoon is more accurate – and what I like to do then after a few hours is to take something as a downer –unless I’m going to some party – then I’ll do more cocaine.

I reckon what I like best is that feeling I get when I take a handful of something like valium when I’m coming down from coke. You know I reckon I could stay in that place forever –it really is the best – I’d like to feel that way all the time – if only life would let me.

But to get back to this dream – it’s really freaked me out – the memory of this dream keeps coming into my mind – It makes me feel sad, a bit frightened really – what does this dream mean.

What I’ve noticed recently is that I don’t feel really here – as if something that should be inside of me doesn’t exist anymore. In some ways I don’t think that it ever did. I’ve always been an actor – I’ve acted the role of being an actor if that makes any sense. Been an actor for my mother – taking on acting roles in other people’s movies, acting out other people’s stories. My life has been a series of movie parts – when I get into a role – that’s when I go into action. In between there’s nothing – an actor waiting in the wings for another part to play – me, playing at being an actor and waiting for that call.

Well, shit, I’m not happy – inside I feel really dead – the drugs don’t do it for me anymore nor does playing the roles. To be quite honest with you I feel terminally depressed – emotionally dead – just like that bird in the dream. Last week I got thrown off the job – the director said if I couldn’t follow some basic instructions – I’d best get myself off the set. I don’t know what he was talking about, I don’t really care. I don’t want to be an actor any more – I guess I never did.

So, what I really want to know is the meaning of that dream – and why it’s frightened me – in some ways I could envy that bird – free of all the burden – and the emptiness of life.

My son came to live with me after his divorce. He moved in, worked all day – spent most evenings with his friends.

Richard liked my cooking and often helped me out with little jobs that needed doing around the house. So, it was like a bolt from the blue when Richard stayed away for nearly a week and didn’t even phone. Then suddenly he re-appeared with a young lady by his side – Mum, I’d like you to meet Cindy, a girl that I’ve just met. At least now I knew the reason for my son’s extended disappearance – Cindy challenged the latest in fashion to contain her buxom figure and she gazed upon the world through the most sultry bedroom eyes that I would assume any man could wish for.

Ok, so at first I didn’t really take to her but after a while I found that she had a way of weaving a spell on you. Behind those street wise eyes it was like a small and vulnerable child was crying out to be held. As we got to talking I could feel her need to be loved. Turned out she had a couple of kids and was having troubles with her ex. When he got joint care orders for the girls it reduced the maintenance that he had to pay her – it had put her out on the street. She and the kids were staying with friends at the time when Richard met her.

Would it be too much trouble to let Cindy and the kids stay with us for a while – it would help in the Court proceedings if she had a regular place to stay. Cindy moved in later that week. Surprised, I came home to find the lounge room overflowing with furniture, cases and boxes of clothes – in amongst it sat two young girls – running around and wagging its tail was a feisty little dog. As I already had two dogs of my own – this put us in breach of the council regulations. Something about the situation set off warning bells – but I felt I didn’t have much choice – Richard wasn’t home. Thank you so much said Cindy, from the middle of the chaos. Do you think the girls could have a bath – they haven’t had one in a week – can I help you to fix some afternoon tea – the girls are pretty hungry. No sooner had Richard come home than she was on her mobile – next thing there was a car outside and Cindy was gone down the street. Richard and I sorted out the kids and put them to bed. Later I heard Richard on the phone – angry and upset – Cindy didn’t come back for a couple of days – then she was staying in Richard’s room and making a mess of the bathroom.

The next six months were a complete disaster – Richard ended up taking time off work. We had to file papers with the Court. The phone rang all hours day and night – people wanting Cindy. I would hear Richard complaining and Cindy crying in his room in the middle of the night. She borrowed a car to be independent – Richard was supposed to go out and rescue her whenever it broke down. When he got the bill for her mobile phone – the charges were astronomical – apparently she had another child – a son who lived with a different father who she was often calling. Cindy also had a baby being cared for by a former partner and his new de facto – who was creating problems for Cindy about visiting rights for Cindy to see her baby, which made Cindy very upset.

The wake up for Richard finally came when he found cocaine stashed in his room. Cindy said she was only minding it for a friend – said she didn’t use. She said most of the phone charges had been her trying to find a job, the bill wasn’t really her fault, she was only trying to do her best. Finally Richard decided to end the relationship. It took another six months before she was completely gone and out of our lives. We still have some things in the garage that belong to her – that’s if she ever comes back.

So, you’re a community worker……..Just take a look at this – broken windows, garbage –I’ve lived here 17 years – used to be clean and new –nice people – they moved away, some died – different sort of people live here now – no pride. I’ve put a lot of the garbage into a shopping trolley – put it in the lift – everyone around here is asking after Jim. Do you know anything?

 Drugs – that’s what it is – used to be a real community here ’til the drugs got in. Look at those broken windows – addicts get angry – looks like Jim has gone away – everyone around here is asking what’s become of Jim.

 Well, no – Jim didn’t really have the flat – that was a lad called Ben – a lovely lad and so peaceful – always bombed out on drugs – but no way was he a dealer. Got into trouble and down to the Court he went – last I saw of him was telling one of the lad’s he ain’t chasing as he walked off down the street to the Courthouse – haven’t seen him since.

 Ben let Jim share his flat this past four weeks – a hammering and a hollering there has been when Jim was there – Crack I think it was – cigarette butts all around on the floor outside on the balcony – I picked them up and binned them – I have to tidy it up you know – god, it really makes me sick. Thinking of what it used to be like, before the drugs got in.

 Yeah, well don’t use that lift – I’m waiting for the other one to come up – a lot of shit on the floor of the lift that I put the trolley in – I’ll press it to go down when the other one comes up. I think its piss on the floor of the lift – don’t go in and spoil your shoes – come down with me when the other lift comes up – I hope its cleaner than the one I put the trolley into.

 I’ll pick up the trolley on ground floor – I’ve got to take the garbage away and bin it – or else the rats move in.

 Housing commission don’t give a rat’s about what happens here. Broken windows they don’t care – prime real estate we’re in – and zero property maintenance – that’s government for you.

 And now we get graffiti – I go down to the local store and get some cleaning rags and cleaners to take it off the walls – they reckon graffiti is an art form – no way – it’s just more crap on the walls.

 So, you wonder how come I never moved out – got out of this tenement building – well, I got a daughter in my care – they say she is retarded – doesn’t matter where she gets placed – she’d never know the difference. I am her official carer – whatever else could I be – whatever she is entitled to, that’s what I get – and a carer’s allowance.

 Just take a look in the window – look at the shit in there – that will attract rats soon enough you know – nothing I can do about it. At least if I clean up what’s outside they won’t come running along the balcony and get into our flat in the night. God, my daughter would really get upset at the feel of a rat -in the dark, in the middle of the night.

 Ah, now the other lift is here, looks clean enough, good – talking to you has been great – guess we’ll go down in the lift together – then go our separate ways.

I joined the advertising agency as a smart new recruit – fresh out of college. It didn’t take me long to see that the partners drank malt whisky while executives snorted cocaine. I was more into cannabis myself, using at the weekend. Phil was a senior executive, sharp in the mornings, wasted by mid afternoon – he needed a smart assistant. I became Phil’s assistant – he took off in the afternoons.

 I became a stand in for Phil who many thought was over the hill and it didn’t help his position that sometimes as a result of his addiction to cocaine, he looked so dreadfully ill. Phil pushed himself real hard and expected me to be the same. He really put the pressure on me, most times I was doing his job for him. One evening I was exhausted, still had work to do, Phil shuffled over to me, offered me a line of coke. I was delighted with the feeling of creative power and the energy boost. However, as it took me all of my time to get up the next morning, I didn’t think that doing cocaine was the best way for me to go.

 Late one afternoon, Phil walked into my room, slumped down and said – You’ll have to review these proofs –they are due tomorrow morning – I just can’t manage it. I realized I had no option – I was looking at working all night. I was already feeling tired and I had missed my lunch.

 I’ll do it, I said but I’ll need some of your witches brew to help me get through the night. No sooner said than Phil obliged and was swiftly out the door. I felt a delicious rush coming on and went in to check the proofs with the energy of a tiger.

 After a couple of hours I started to feel a bit edgy, I soon realized it was the proofs – there was a basic flaw in them that no one else had seen. They were no good at all. They wouldn’t sell ice to an Eskimo!  Eskimos, kimonos – isms, prisms, and rainbows were racing around in my brain. I could feel I was losing my grip on what the project was all about – I couldn’t think but knew I had to push myself to get through it.

 Suddenly I felt a huge sense of enlightenment, the burden lifted, a perfect answer to the problems with the copy. I would work on it for a couple of hours – redesign the entire campaign. I could feel the brilliance of my idea like a laser beam through my brain. I could hardly wait to get started.

 But before I could start on this master work I felt an urge to clear the decks. I deleted completely every scrap of the project – to make a fresh new start.

 However, when I came begin the brilliance had gone. My mind was as empty as a void, as was the computer screen. Frantically, I tried to recover what I had deleted but it was in vain. I started to feel really anxious and a bit depressed –then suddenly I felt frightened and decided to go home. I couldn’t sleep at all that night – was too scared to go into work next day.

 Funnily enough I kept my job, I kept quiet and Phil got the blame. I was later told that getting this project completed on time had been his absolute very last chance. It was about this time that I decided to give up cannabis use.

 Today I am the boss of my own outfit, I keep the office clean. I only have to hear the word “cocaine” about an employee to encourage them to detox – or find another job.

If you told me 4 years ago that I would lose my husband of 15 years and my children, my home, my close friends and job all behind a little recreational blow(at the time), I would have never believed you.

Let me tell you a little about myself, I married my high school  sweetheart right after graduating from college and we settled in a small home together. Not even a year later, we had our first son, then less than 2 years later we had another son and a little  while afterwards we had a beautiful daughter.

Since our children were very small I made a miraculous decision to put my striving career on hold to be a stay home mother. Life was pretty good at this point. We weren’t rich but my husband’s salary was just enough for us to live comfortably. Soon we moved to a much larger community. My husband started working atleast 40-60 hours in a week to pay our mortgage. That brought a lot of strain on our marriage and home life. Our kids were going to private schools. Which were very expensive. I got a part-time job at a bowling alley to help pay some of the bills.

My husband was not happy with his college graduate wife working at “cheap bowling alley” (as he called it). My husband was old fashioned, and believed that a woman’s place was at home but since I had gone to college, he thought that I would atleast find a job in field. But there I meet a lot of new people, these people were not individuals that my husband nor close friends or family would approve of.  But I liked them because they were “regular people” down to earth people, that liked to have fun, and there I met “Janet” She had become one of bestfriends, she was fun, sexy, confident and everything that I wasn’t.

She and I and her boyfriend “Keith” would have some beers over the weekend. Until, one night, “Keith” pulls out a bag of some white powder. He asked if I wanted to try, at first I was a little apprehensive but figured what the hell why not. So I took the straw, stuck it up my nose, while closing the other nostril and I swear as soon as that shit hit my nose, I was on top of the world, It was an awesome, euphoric feeling.

The 3 of us stayed up the entire night getting high, before I knew it it was 3 a.m. in the morning, and “Keith” was out of some blow, so he went to get more. I looked at my cell phone and my husband “Garrett” had called me aleast 15 times, leaving frantic messages. I didn’t know how I was going to explain my whereabouts, but the only thing I could think about was how good I felt and how all the money problem’s our family was having didn’t matter.

At first, I would just get high with “Keith” and “Janet”, then I started having “Keith” buy my blow, then eventually, I was buying it myself.  I knew that didn’t sell that shit in my neighborhood, so I would go to different places, where I knew “Keith” bought his dope, I wouldn’t let “Keith” or “Janet” know that I was buying coke for myself, I think it was shame, I didn’t want anyone to know how much coke I was doing, eventually I couldnt hide it for long, I was incharge of paying all of our bills and from time to time, I would dip in a little here, a little there, and eventually we got behind bills, I had lost a bit of weight and it came to a point where I wouldnt even come home for days, I confessed to “Garrett” that I was using, and surprisingly he was supported and for a while he tried to convince that I could get help, I didn’t want help, and after 2 and half years, he finally moved himself and the kids to a nother city.

I was living with “janet” and “keith” until he introduced me to his drug dealer friend “papa”, papa was everything my husband wasn’t, he was a bad boy, and 10 years younger than me, we started dating and eventually I moved into one of his dope houses, where I had exclusive and endless access to free coke, “papa” had got incarcerated for a while, so I started to prostitute myself to send money to “papa” and support my nasty drug habit, “Garrett” wouldnt talk to me, and my children stopped coming down to see me, and I didn’t want them to see me, I was an embarrassement.

I was addicted to cocaine, oxycontin, alcohol and everything I could get my hands on. Until one day I had had enough, 2 years had gone and past.  I didn’t want to live the rest of my life chasing the nest high any longer. My oldest son was expecting a baby, that he hadnt even told me about, I had to hear it from my daughter. My Oldest son hadn’t talked to me since the separation with me and his father. So I called up my good friend “Patsy” and cried to her for at least 2 hours.

The next day, she came and got me from a motel I was staying at, and brought me back to her home, where she supported me through the entire process.  She sent me to a  30 rehab facility, and there I got clean. Afterwards, I reconnected with my children and moved in with my adult son and his girlfriend.  My grandchild was 3 months old. I started going to church and enjoying a free of drug lifestyle.