Cocaine Addiction

Hi, I’m Marty’s sister  Caroline and yes, we had to get Marty into rehab, there was no other way. Last holiday weekend, Marty was high and stoned on coke right through the whole weekend. Shoveling into a pile of coke like it was going out of style. By the end of the weekend he was a mess, nose bleeds all over the place – ended up in hospital with a cracked bone in his ribs, and complications from the coke. That’s when we made the arrangements for an intervention. No way would Marty see that he needed rehab and miss out on his party girls and a line of cocaine as and when he needed it – just about all day, every day right now.

Yes, I’m Marty’s business partner James, and I was part of the intervention – I agree with Caroline – Marty was out of control – fell down the stairway and cracked his ribs –arguing with one of the broads at the party about how much he ought to pay her –I’ve contracted out work that Marty was doing so he can go into rehab – not a moment too soon for me. Marty’s brilliant at his work –but lately he’s just not been doing it. Lost the plot completely when he broke up with Juanita – been high on coke ever since.

I’m here too, Juanita – I know Marty’s out of control – I’d have him back tomorrow if he could only get off the coke – I told him that and that I still loved him very much at the intervention – I hope it was part of the reason why he decided to go in – I’m hoping that we can start over when he finally comes out of rehab.

Marty’s recollections of the day that his life changed forever are clear as a bell in his mind. As Marty remembers it – I broke out the hospital early, with the plaster still stuck to my ribs – wanted to get back home, do some cocaine. Fumbled around with the keys, got open the apartment door – and there’s Juanita, my sister and James – and two guys I didn’t know, sitting on the couches in my lounge room. WTF….I saw Caroline move towards me, she asked me to sit down, I was feeling pretty tired I guess – I thought I might as well sit down a while, hear what she had to say.

Caroline started by explaining her concerns and that she wanted me to go into rehab. I said tell these people thanks but no – I’m too busy, got work to do. James pitched in and said no problem Marty that’s fixed –I already contracted out the project that you were working on. I’ll keep up my end while you’re away.

Away, I’m not going anywhere, I said – except to get me a drink and staggered to my feet. Chucked down a bourbon at the bar, had another chaser, turned to the crowd said you’re wasting time I’m not going near any rehab. I turned and swayed, James caught my arm, said Marty – you just sit down now – this rehabs planned, you’re going in, or you won’t have me as a partner. That sort of made me wonder what these other guys were doing there and it turned out they were from the rehab – come to take me in their car, Juanita had packed my bag already. All it needed was for me to agree and I would be on my way.

I thought I’d play for time, but the world seemed to be closing in, what if I made a dash for my car, drove across to my mother’s place – I made another bid for the bar, but James got there first, turned me around – said Marty – there’s iced water there on the table, so I grabbed a glass of that instead. Next minute I was cramped over with such pain I could hardly breathe. I sat down heavily on the coffee table with my arms clutched round my stomach. No one said a word.

I wanted to scream at them all to get away, fuck off out of my house, but suddenly a feeling of deep relaxation came over me – the pain in my gut was gone.  I felt the sense of purpose behind this intervention – that these people cared. The intervention felt like a barrier that someone had put up that had enough strength and power to stop me running from myself.  I felt contained, content and relaxed for the first time in my life.

I looked up towards the nearest guy from the rehab place, and quietly said I’m ready to go when you are.

Larry was a larrikin, I loved and knew him well. We went to school together. He was in the footy team. I joined up with the cheer squad – admired him from afar – all through my school days, Larry was my star.

 Later I took a training course, became a beautician, Larry had caught the eye of talent scouts for the national footy and got drafted interstate. Sometimes there were rumors about how he played up and got in trouble. I thought it couldn’t be too bad if he was still on the footy team. I took a kind of sisterly pride because I knew him, never thought badly about him no matter what people said about how players should keep a clean image – and be an example to younger kids.

 One day I met up with Larry at a party, and he took an interest in me, I couldn’t believe it when he asked me to meet up for a drink later in the week. Next thing we were an item, I was happy to take back seat to whatever he had to do for the team – didn’t mind that he went away. Soon I made the move to be with him  – gave up family, friends, my job , but making new friends was easy and I was so much in love with Larry that nothing else mattered to me.

 Life was terrific, I loved Larry so much – footy fans are a great bunch of people –our social life was just fine, I had a part time job in the week. I used to party, drink alcohol but I wouldn’t do drugs. Didn’t need to, being in love with Larry had me as high as kite.

 Looking back I suppose that I should have seen the writing on the wall. All I wanted was a peaceful life, I wasn’t into the drug scene at all, didn’t enjoy the wild parties as much as I should have – I was ready to settle down, and Larry –well, Larry wasn’t.

 After a while Larry took me so for granted, the higher up in the ladder he got, the more intense was the pressure. Often I thought that Larry just saw me as part of the furniture that he expected to be there, ready and waiting to offer comfort and support if and when he was ready to come home. Larry would seem to be ok, doing everything just fine, then suddenly he’d just let it rip and go off on a bender – mainly alcohol and cocaine. Being young and fit, he managed to keep up public appearances but sometimes I got real frightened about what he was doing to himself. Larry had some problems about stuff that I didn’t understand, and it frightened and worried me.

 People at the drug fueled parties only saw the high side – it’s the wives and girlfriends of these stars who get to see the underside of the alcohol and drug use. Having to put up with it to be with the person you love – trying to be there for them – knowing you can never do enough. When push came to shove and the pressure was on – there would be Larry, snorting cocaine – sometimes several times in a night. I often had too much to drink just to escape thinking about what I would be put through when Larry turned depressed and demanding – nothing like his happy self, the Larry that I loved.

 To cut a long story short, I decided that I was drinking too much, and was dreadfully unhappy. I was clinging to a dream, not wanting to see the reality. Larry wasn’t interested in sorting out his problems, made that very clear. I decided to go to counseling, for myself, got told I was a co-dependent, and that the best thing I could do was get myself right out of there – start a new life for myself.

 Well, I did. Sometimes I think sadly about how things might have been, if me and Larry had been given more help, but I pull these thoughts up short. I have a loving husband and two wonderful children- we have a happy life. Yes, someone did tell me how Larry was really cut up about it when I left him, wished he had tried harder, said I was the best friend that he ever had. But I don’t go thinking about it, you can’t change the past.

Over the years my brother and me pretty much drifted apart – came from a broken home – alcoholic father, mom’s now passed away. It fired me up to make something of myself – and I’m not ashamed to say that today I am a very successful businessman, unlike my younger brother that took it all to heart – never held down a job – my nephews turned out disasters. Dropped out of school, both of them, young David was killed in a car smash – and Bill, well we didn’t know where he was – at least until I got the phone call from my brother, saying that he had finally got word, where his son might be.

 Was there any chance I might go out there – see if we could get him back, talk to him, perhaps give him some money. No point my brother going out there – Bill’s been out on the street for years, never did get on together as I was given to understand. So, I thought I might as well give it a go, got the address, said I would see what I could do.

 Late afternoon, and it was a hovel before my eyes. Surely no one could live in there. It should be condemned – but then, perhaps it was. Peeling paintwork, rotten wood, and litter all over. Still, having come this far…… I stepped over some evil smelling rags, and knocked on the front door.

 No answer as I expected – the only car in the yard lacked tires, wheels and an engine – its paintwork faded, completely rusted out. I nearly turned to go home. But, it’s my way when I decide to do something, to do it thoroughly.

 I went round the back, through more of the crap that littered the yard of that house.  Pressed the back door and to my surprise, it swung open.

 I nearly vomited up my lunch at the stench that oozed through that opened door, it was beyond description, I called out Bill, are you there, it’s your uncle come to see you. The house remained in silence.

 To go in or go away – I hesitated. To come this far and not go in….. on the other hand, why risk disease by breathing that fetid air. I decided to look once in every room, then make a bolt for home, and a refreshing shot of whisky.

 In the gloom, I finally saw someone lying on a mattress surrounded by rubbish and what smelled like excrement. I called out Bill and he groaned, I took one look and I knew – this creature in the ragged blanket, full of rancid stains, was my nephew Bill.

 I stepped forward and pulled off the blanket – I was going to say —get up Bill, I’m your uncle – I’ve come to take you home – but instead I simply gasped in horror. There seemed to be a mass of cockroaches crawling on Bill’s legs . I reached behind me and managed to turn on a light. The relief was intense when I looked again, and saw that it was not cockroaches on Bill’s legs – only some scabby sores.  By god, he looked so thin.

 I got him into some dingy clothes, got him to my car. Can you believe in that short space of time – there was graffiti all over the windows and along the sides of the car were gouge marks cut into the metal.

 Sitting next to Bill, and driving on the freeway to the other side of town, I felt a sense of rage building up in me, on behalf of Bill. The graffiti on the car surrounded me. I felt dirty, and imprisoned by it.

 Emotionally I felt that I had crossed some boundary into another place. I felt stifled, trapped and fearful, of what I do not know.

 I made up my mind there and then that Bill was going to get out. Whatever it took, whatever it cost, I was going to find a drug rehab place that really knew their job – get Bill clean of drugs for good – and get him back to health.

If you go round round to Syd and Rosie’s place today you’ll find it clean and tidy. No beer cans rolled under the couch, no piled up dishes in the sink – Rosie even makes you wipe your feet when you come in the door -yes, that’s something she insists on – you have to wipe your feet. There’s always decent food – course that’s why I’m always around there – Rosie’s little brother – she’s more like Mom to me than Mom – Mom is never home that’s why I hang out at Rosie’s place – I know she doesn’t mind.

 It’s so relaxing at Rosie’s I even get to do my homework – well, sometimes but really it’s just so cozy that I like being there. When Syd gets home we have some tea – Rosie’s expecting a baby – I hope she still has time for me when the baby comes along.

 Of course Rosie’s wasn’t always this clean – not when Syd played in the band – talk about grunge – Syd was the king of grunge. When the band came back to Syd’s after playing it was booze, and coke and dope –they played the music real loud. Rosie and Syd had tremendous fights – but Syd took it in his stride – told Rosie just chill out luv, as he cuddled up to the groupies.

 One day Rosie had enough – gave Syd an ultimatum – go get yourself a regular job – no more nights with the band, but Syd being Syd, it was just like water off a duck’s back – of course he went out with the band that night and when he got back there was Rosie flaming. Told him get these people out of the house.

 Syd in a fit of bravado raised his middle finger. Rosie broke his jaw. Syd was howling, people were screaming, Rosie went into the bedroom – got their marriage certificate – tore it into pieces and threw it on Syd’s head. Next was the sound of an ambo screeching round the block. Syd got taken to ER, and Rosie went to bed. I decided I’d be better off for once if I just went home.

 Well, that was all a few years ago – Syd and Rosie both went to drug and alcohol rehab – Rosie made the choice. She said if we ain’t going to do drugs no more – that means no fucking drugs. It was a really good choice because now they don’t do drugs – both completely clean.

 The only thing that gives us a reminder of how it used to be – if you look at the marriage certificate on the wall – and people sometimes ask – how come it’s all in little bits, stuck together with sellotape.