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Three Days is All It Takes

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Friday

"I want you out of this house."
Silence as I pack.
"You're better off dead than doing what you're doing! You know that!? You're better off fucking dead!"
I continue to pack...shirt sleeves (it's October), hoodies, Deodorant....
"That's what these drugs will do to you...they're going to fucking kill you, slowly and painfully. You're better off fucking dead!"
Maybe I am...I don't know. I continue to pack: Xbox games, socks, underwear, cologne, toothbrush. I go online and type to my one and only friend at this point.

Cathy, please come pick me up.
Why?
I'm leaving my house.
Why? Tell me you fucking did drugs again.
Yeah...
Then no, find somewhere else to go


"You're better off fucking dead? Get the fuck out of my house right now, before you make me kill myself. I'd rather be dead than see you this way, do you know that? Get out!"

I get out. I walk to the nearest 711 after 20 minutes of wondering and thinking who to call. I walk to my friend's house who I haven't seen in months, in hopes that he will forgive me and give me a place to sleep for a night...one night, it should be. A 30 minute walk later....god it's cold in the morning....I arrive at my friend's house. His car isn't in the driveway so I assume he went to class. Class or work...where else would a 23 year old be?

I go into his backyard and sit on a chair....I fall asleep for 4 hours. It's starting to get dark out now and I am starting to get cold. I throw on an extra hoodie.... god, I've never felt so alone. Cathy wouldn't even come pick me up...oh my god, what am I going to do? I'll figure it out right ? My friend comes home and he sees my bags and I can see the hint of disappointment in his eyes and that look of "you can always come here" appears on his face and he slaps my hand and tells me he missed me and I tell him I missed him too...more than hell ever know and in a few minutes we both starting having the same conversations we used to about our shitty town, and our boredom with our parents houses, and our lack of a future, and girls.

My mom wouldn't allow us to hang out...she thinks he does drugs too. The funny thing is..he doesn't. Sure, he smokes pot...but so what? We all must have a vice...don't we? I mean, don't we?

"You want to play a song together?"
"Not really, man. I haven't played in a while."
"Oh," I said. "Alright. You wanna play a video game?"
"Nah."
Alright...so we watch TV. In a few seconds he falls asleep and I am alone to my thoughts again.

Where am I going to go? What am I going to do? I really need a hug. I want to just hug someone...for a long time. I just want a fucking hug. I'm starting to get nauseas...the drugs are leaving the system. I'm cold....I'm hot. I cant sleep....I want to sleep. I want to shower...I need warm water. Hot water. What am I going to do? Should I go to Tommy's, in Boston? but how am I going to get there? 


Oh god, what am I going to do. This will blow over right? God I need drugs... I feel like shit. I can't believe I keep doing this. I can't believe I keep hurting my family and my only friend. I can feel tears welling up...what's going on? I haven't cried in months....shit, I forgot to pack my pills, that's why. Oh well, fuck the pills. Mom got you those to help you with your depression. Yeah I know...and I feel really terrible, but what can I do. I cant go back home. I'm so tired of making my mother cry, I'm so tired of making people who love me cry....but I cant stop. I get sick, and I get high and I won't get help. I want to do this on my own...but I can't...I'm not strong. God what do I do? I need to get high....I'm so sick.


As soon as I think this I run to my friend's computer and go online. Try to find anybody to talk to...even someone I barely know. Anybody...I need to connect with another human being. I see this girl who I've always thought was beautiful online and I engage in conversation. For some reason, I tell her my issues. Amazingly she understands and tells me she'll come pick me up. I suggest we go see a movie and she says ok. Good, a place to go...take my mind off everything.

We get to the movies and I grab her hand and I say come with me and we head towards the side door because I feel like sneaking in like I used to when I was a kid...I think it'll be fun for us to do. She doesn't agree, lets go of my hand, and tells me we should buy tickets "like adults."

Ok...that's fine. 23 dollars and 2 hours later and I'm kind of upset...the movie sucked. Before she drops me off back at my friends house, who I am hoping is awake by this point, she tells me to cheer up and that everything will be okay. I go in to kiss her because I'm vulnerable and I'm starting to not give a fuck about anything.

She tells me she has a boyfriend.

"Oh...well thanks for spending time with me. I really appreciate it."
"No problem, Adam."
We do a quick hug...not enough for me to really feel any warmth...that warmth I so desperately need at this point. I go back to my friend's house and he's still sleeping. I smoke the rest of my pot and pass out too.

Saturday

I wake up to a knock on the back door. Somehow, Cathy knew where I was staying...and she brought my older sister, Jane. They both look ready to rip my head off. Not a good awakening.

'What the fuck are you doing, Adam?"
"I left home...Dad and Mom told me to...."
"Okay...so what, you just come here and do drugs all night and day?"
I look around...who's doing drugs? Actually, if you have them that would be awesome because I feel really really sick. Of course, I say none of that.
"No...I'm not doing drugs."
"So what's your answer?"

Cathy doesnt say a word, mind you, but that look of smugness is on her face and I want to go buy a gun and shoot myself. She had to get my sister...she had to come here.

"I dont have an answer Jane. I don't know what to do anymore. I'm going to kill myself, I think."
"Oh please Adam. Grow up, seriously. You're not going to kill yourself."
"Ok...."
"Why don't you just stop the shit...cut the fucking shit that's been going on for the last 7 years. Stop fucking getting high, why is that so hard? Fucking grow up already Adam!"
"Alright..."
"Seriously, what's your plan?"
I'm starting to get a little upset.
"I told you I don't fucking have a plan. I don't know what to fucking do anymore. I want to stop doing drugs but I can't. I need them to not feel like shit at this point."
"Then fucking go to rehab."
"I'd rather stop on my own."
"We've tried that the last 2 years Adam...you can't fucking do it. We all don't know what the fuck is wrong with you...but you can't do it."
"It's not that easy, Jane. Jesus fucking christ, don't you think I try? What do you think I just don't care about anything."
"Yes...that's exactly what I think and exactly what you show; and give me that attitude and I swear I'll fucking kill you. Don't you ever think about what you're doing to mom and dad? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Ok...I'm going back inside."

I go back inside, they leave, I go in the bathroom and I cry. Do I ever think about how I hurt people? I don't know, what do you think? I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me either. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can't I just fucking stop? I don't know...there are no answers. 


I call the help line for people who are thinking about offing themselves and tell them I want to join their club. They tell me to come to the hospital right away. Instead, I smoke pot and fall asleep again. God I need someone to talk to...someone to hug...someone to love. Someone to love me...


I sleep most of the day and my friend comes home from work and tells me I can't stay another night because he has relatives coming here who need my space. I tell him it's okay and that I appreciate him letting me stay for the last day or so. We slap hands and I tell him I hope I see him soon...deep down I know I wont. So I cry while I wait for my other friend who said hed come pick me up to show up.

Another couch...another person to smoke pot with. I haven't taken my pills....I havent done drugs. Can you imagine how I feel?

Sunday


"Mom, can I please come home?"
"No...your father and I are fucking done."
"But I'll take drug tests every day...I promise."
"No, weve tried that before. Nothing works with you. Goodbye Adam."
The sound of the hang up.

Hanging up....the ones who truly say they love me keep hanging up on me...keep telling me they don't know what to do with me. Keep telling me all these things that I don't have the answers or explanations to. Everybody keeps telling me to grow up.

But I dont want to grow up. Nowadays, it's either grow up or shut up. Nobody can help you...you can only help yourself. Go to the hospital...get help Adam.


I ask my friend for a ride to the hospital. On his way out the door I tell him I forgot my toothbrush and run back into the kitchen. I come back a few seconds later and tell him I'm ready.

Oh god, am I really doing this? I just want my xbox and my bed...I just want Cathy to hug me...I just want to be hugged...not drugged on a physce ward. Is this my only option? Oh god...grow up or shut up. Grow up or shut up. people dont want to sneak into movies anymore...people dont want to hold hands at a elementary school park anymore, people dont want to laugh at fart noises anymore....people just want you to grow the fuck up. Behave. Be mature. Cut the shit. God, Adam, cut the shit. I can't...oh god I'm so sick. I hope they have a drug for people coming off drugs, Do they? Fuck I dont know....it's just a suicidal ER...they might not. Oh god..a white room with white sheets....withdrawing on a hospital bed...what could be worse? But you have to...grow up or shut up.


When my friend dropped me off I thanked him for everything and told him I hoped I'd see him soon. Deep down I knew I wouldn't. I started to cry again. What's with all this crying?

Before I step into the hospital, I feel in my pocket the blade.

Grow up or shut up.

I'm going to shut up. Because god....oh god I dont know. I don't want to grow up. I don't know how to help myself and even when I do get help I will just be another boring lifeless adult who wont even sneak into a movie because it's immature and embarrassing. Everything you do is immature and embarrassing.

The blade feels nice on my skin....a welcoming pain as opposed to the pain my insides have been feeling during this withdrawal period. No family...no friends.

I died outside of a suicidal ER on Sunday night. Suicide.

Grow up or shut up....

...I guess I made my fucking choice, didn't I.

"The only person who can make you happy is yourself."

Non Fiction-Even in Death.--

Published 
Written by Patrick
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