Got a job working at the call center.

December 11th, 2008

Working at the call center isn’t so bad. I’m good on the phone. I don’t know how I can go to meetings, school and work with only getting six hours of sleep. Well, not really sleep, but lying around.

I think about boarding school and what a great experience it was. The Mexicans, Frenchy, Calloway, the coke binges, doing Oxys, weight training, pranks, movies. I can’t believe that was freshman year. I forget how addicted to cocaine I was back then. Powder cocaine. Maybe more than crack, because crack is real unsocial and self-consuming. When I smoke crack, I binge and hate myself after, and it’s hard to find a nice place to smoke it. You can basically do coke anywhere. I’d do it in school, before parties, at dinner, in a movie, in the morning, in the afternoon. Crack was really only at night and it would spill over into the morning. But selling coke was the big difference. You buy a quarter, sell a cut up ball and get a free ball and a half out of it. There was more driving around, serving people up, stopping at parties, people’s houses, the casino parking lot. Crack is just copping and finding a hole to crawl into. Zero human interaction. I’ve never ever sold any crack for profit, every single crumb was to be smoked immediately!

Crackhead Amy and I used to blow lines all fucking day, just doing more and more, driving, going to the mall, serving people up. Showing up at my house wiping my nose, doing lines in the bathroom while Amy occupied my parents, telling them what a lovely home we have while I’m in the bathroom flushing the toilet 12 times and coughing to cover up the noise of me snorting. 

I’m going to night school at 5:30pm today. I didn’t feel that good yesterday, I just laid around and did nothing until it was time to go to work. But I feel good now. I think Patrick is moving down to go to a treatment center. He calls me a lot. I know it’s hard for him, but he’s going to have to reach out to other people if he wants to stay clean.

It irks me when people say “sober” on TV. It is “clean” you FUCKS! I used to say sober too, but I didn’t know any better.

It’s taken so much bullshit to get here, but I know it’s where I’m supposed to be. Ever since my first meeting, I knew it was something I had been missing. I felt at home and a part of it instantly, especially at The Ten.

Anderson is… I don’t know. Maybe in rehab, maybe out getting high. It’s hard to accept this shit, it's so surreal… All my friends are drug addicts. This journal, my life, these thoughts, everything’s like a black and white movie. I’m watching but it's just background music…