Easy come, difficult go ( part 2 )

Once I hit the corner of the complex at the main road I started running. I had to find somewhere to puke up these balloons or I was going to lose them forever. When I made it down to the corner store I hit the open door in a full sprint and just said "BATHROOM" as I ran by the clerk. About 15 to 20 minutes or so had passed since I had to choke them down in front of the squad car. I'd hoped that I wasn't too late. 

I tried for awhile before I realized my fears were a reality. With three fingers completely in my throat I'd thrown up about 5-6 times but no balloons. I stuck my head under the faucet an tried waterboarding myself for awhile. I threw up a few more times but still no dope. After about 20 minutes of abuse I'd decided I'd better get outta this guys bathroom before he started to ask questions and considering I wasn't able to retrieve my stash I had to make plans to move forward. 

It was just as I was leaving the gas station I realized the situation. I was alone again, broke and with no drugs. I headed back to our camp and scoured our cookers and combined that with the 1/2 a shot I had saved from earlier that afternoon. After combining everything I could find i thinned the mixture out into 2 shots on hopes to conserve. I didn't know where I was going to be getting drugs from anymore. Only Brandon had the Mexican's number and even if I could track him down he didn't know me and I highly doubted I'd be able to convince him to serve me. I pulled up my sleeve and grabbed the string off my hoodie and cinched it down on my right forearm. My arms were showing signs of tremendous wear. I had hard veins to locate in general and combining that with the bender I'd just been on made it almost impossible to get a register anywhere. I don't know if it was my veins or frustration but I must have poked myself close to 50 times that night before I got my shot off. I was so emotionally frazzled I barely felt the fix. Brandon was gone, I barely knew where I was and didn't have much of any way to make money. I wasn't about to hit any houses alone after the cops just arrested Brandon after receiving a call that he and I were casing apartments no more then 4 blocks away and we had burnt the neighborhood in the other three directions. I didn't really like panhandling and truthfully even if I did I had nobody to get drugs from as I had no connection now that Brandon was gone. At about 2am I packed what little I had and caught the Decatur bus southbound and headed back to Tropicana ave. Most of the city was still new to me. I remember that ride taking especially long. I was the only person on the bus for most of the trip. 

What was I to do now? What were my options? I'd pretty much assumed Andy was out of the question. Josh was an option but he could be hard to track down sometimes. Did I even want to go this route? Start over? Alone? Again? 

I got off the bus at Trop and Decatur and decided to walk for awhile. I started thinking about what I had left behind back in California. An ex wife I had completely screwed over, my precious son that I loved so much, a family that had tried really hard to help me get clean and on my feet again. Not to mention handfuls of friends I had either robbed, cond, or pushed away in my quest for the next high. I can't say that it didn't effect me. I was torn apart inside and out. I hadn't even done anything in vegas yet and I already felt like the city was moments away from spitting me out like flavorless juicy fruit. 

I made it to the in and out long past closing. I was still not comfortable going down to the tunnels without Becca. I found a blanket I had stashed and headed to a concrete dumpster enclosure I had scouted out prior to meeting Andy when I arrived on Trop. There was no dumpster in it just a few boxes I broke down to put on the ground. 

I had already gotten accustomed to using my backpack as a pillow so I was set. I pulled out a slice of pizza from my bag and realized I had a fair amount of food so I felt a little better that I didn't have to wake up in the morning sick and hungry. I never really slept that night. I was more then uneasy. For the first time since I'd left home I felt truly scared. 

I contemplated so many options that night into the morning but I kept coming back to the same conclusion. I wanted to go home. The thought of getting clean wasn't what I wanted. I just wanted to be back in California. I wanted to see my son and my family. I wanted out of vegas. 

I inventoried my backpack and packed up my things a little after sunrise so I could escape my tomb before the In-n-Out truck drivers came by in the morning. 2 pieces of pizza, a handful of random junk food, multivitamins Brandon's mom had given me and a box of powdered juice mixes I had stolen from her awhile back. I pulled out my last shot and got it off pretty easy. It was then I saw the folded up paper I'd stashed in the box. I'd completely forgotten I'd put it there. 

I'd seen Andy phone his dealer tons of times on all kinds of phones. After awhile I had almost memorized the sequence. One night after last call while Andy was in the truck with Pete the driver I'd confirmed my studies by looking in his phone and copying down the number. I didn't think my chances were very good of getting them to meet me but at this point I was running out of options. I headed for the strip to try to round up some cash and plan out my next move.

I hadn't really had much experience with hustling on the strip. That in conjunction with all I was going through had put me in an unmotivated haze. I basically just wandered north on Las Vegas boulevard from Trop gathering cigarettes and bumming change. By the time I had reached A pay phone by the The Flamingo I was mentally exhausted. I thought I was out of options, that I had ran out of options. The proverbial bottom. To piggyback my feelings of woe, I had walked a few miles and hadn't even made $5. I reached for the pay phone and called the only person who I thought would listen. I hoped she hadn't changed her number.

"Mom? Hey it's me...... I'm okay...... I miss you guys....... How's Mason?..... I know I know I screwed up but I'm clean....... But I wanna come home..... I don't need to "complete a program" I just wanna come home.... Okay, I see..... I'm gonna stay sober either way...... Love you."

I hung up the phone. Tough love is hard to take. I'd been lying to my Mom. I knew it, she knew it and we both knew I wasn't getting any better. In fact, I was worse than ever. I used the remaining $3 to buy pop and some more snacks and basically sulked my way back to my concrete cell behind the In-n-Out.

I laid there for hours. It wasn't even sundown and I was already getting sick and completely out of drugs and money with nobody to turn to. I tossed and turned all night. Each hour getting worse and worse. Hours before dawn my stomach started to bubble. It was too early to hit the in and out bathroom and I wasn't in any physical state to go vary far at all. I was approaching 15 hours without getting high and it was only going to get worse from here. But I really had to go. I found some napkins in my backpack and ran to the adjacent dumpster enclosure. Shitting outside wasn't something I had gotten used to. It still felt disgusting but when your detox is as bad as mine was at that time pride, morals and self respect go down whatever toilet you end up using. I leaned my back against the enclosure wall into a kind of chair position and did my business. Upon completion I cleaned myself and stood up. As I went to hide the evidence I noticed something unusual laying right next to my stool. A red and a yellow balloon, Intact and stainless. I was beside myself with excitement and extremely grossed out with what I new I was about to do. 

Truly, it wasn't difficult to reclaim my stash. It was in plain site. No digging was required. I still felt filthy about the situation but by this point my addiction was completely running the show. As luck would have it, the dealers in Vegas package the heroin and cocaine for just such a situation. I did my shot and went to the bathroom and clean up. 

Now I had a big decision to make. I was well now but still broke and had no dealer. Not to mention being broke with little to no hustle game in the area. I was returning to the same crossroads over and over again. Hustle and try to score or wave the white flag and head to west care. This time the only difference was I had a number I could call and if I worked my magic right I'd have a dealer all my own that delivered. And the clock was ticking.

If you would like to contribute to my efforts at stopping addiction please visit:

http://gofundme.com/q9vqkg

Together we can make a difference.

Easy come, difficult go. Part 1 of two

The bus ride back to Brandon's side of town seemed like it took hours. On the way Brandon told me he fixed in the bathroom at the house and decided he was either going to check back into WestCare or do what he does best. Of course, once you're high crime doesn't seem like such a big deal. He thought the first house he hit was a total bust. There were no electronics, no guns, no jewelry. He told me he plopped down on the bed in the master bedroom and considered killing himself. While weighing his options he looked in the bedside night stand and BOOM! There it was, $900 in cash. As he usually does when he feels like he's got time he made his way to the house phone and called the Mexican. Normally dealers won't cover the entire town but Brandon said he wanted $700 worth so his dude was willing to make the trip.

After squaring up with the driver Brandon came back to get his rigs and backpack and decided to let me in on his score.

"I wanted to share this with you man. You have been a good friend." Brandon said

I didn't know what to say. He could have easily just told me he was going to rehab or back to his parents and I would have been none the wiser. But instead the kid wanted to continue his adventures with me. Most of me was happy. Some of me had wished he would have left me behind. 

"Thank you man. We make a pretty good team." I said

We spent the next week holed up in a new more out of the way alley shooting speedballs and eating little Caesars. Junkies don't have a care in the world when they have dope and money. It's as if the gas tank is on full and you love to cruise the countryside. However that night money was running low and so was our supply. We decided to drum up some funds before we ran out of drugs and made out way to an apartment complex down the road since we had burned up all the suburbs in the area in the past few months. We had been partially conserving our drugs and still had a good amount left. I only had 2 balloons on my which I carried in my mouth. Brandon had way too many to carry so he had about 14 in his backpack. 

We hopped the wall on the backside of the complex at about 11pm. Brandon had told me he had scoped the property a while back and they had no security guard so it was safe. We walked around for about an hour before we realized that hitting apartments with no car would be difficult and there wasn't any units that looked like easy pickings. As we rounded the drive to the front of the place we were ready to call it quits. We headed for the front gate and the driveway gate began to open. 

It happened fast. First the red and blue overhead lights came on, then headlights, then the spotlight. Before we could do anything LVPD was right on top of us.

"Stop right there. Come to the front of my car. Don't run." The voice said over the police cars PA.

"Put your hands in the front of the car." The mans voice said. 

We just sat there for a few minutes until the other car showed up at which time the cop got out of his car and began shouting questions about what we were doing and why we were in the complex. Brandon tried to juggle out a story to the officer. I said nothing. I didn't want to crosstalk Brandon and get us caught in a lie, not to mention I had balloons in my mouth. 

The cop didn't buy Brandon's story and separated us. This was the first time in my life I'd ever had to swallow balloons. It wasn't really that hard but I knew if the cop had any idea I was holding he would had most certainly taken me in. I told the cop I was just walking with my buddy and, as Brandon had said, we were looking for a friends apartment. It was about that time the other cop searching Brandon found his stash in his backpack. The cop asked to search my bag and i obliged. I had nothing to hide that wasn't already in my stomach. To my surprise as soon as the cop finished searching my backpack and my record came back clean he told me to leave. I didn't stick around. I felt really bad but they told me Brandon ahead told the cops it was all his and i had no idea about any of the drugs or needles they found on him. He took the blame for everything. I still remember making eye contact with Brandon sitting in the back of the second squad car as I briskly left the scene. I was grateful but did not have the luxury of showing it. I hoped the look on my face had expressed my gratitude.

If you would like to contribute to my efforts at stopping addiction please visit:

http://gofundme.com/q9vqkg

Together we can make a difference.

Sorry for the wait ( this is just an apology )

I just wanted to apologize for the 6 month hiatus. I lost my phone and used that as an excuse not to continue with this. Truth is I owe it to myself and the 20,000+ that have already read my tale thus far. That said I'm going to be posting again! Yay! 

The next few happenings are going to get pretty dark and crazy so that could be part of my reason for neglect. To timeline I'm only about a 2-3 months into being in the streets at this point so there is a lot to tell. Thank you Again for all your support. I hope I haven't lost your interest.

-C

If you would like to contribute to my efforts at stopping addiction please visit:

http://gofundme.com/q9vqkg

Together we can make a difference.