back from the dead again

[whorella mundane]

i wrote a lot about what's been happening to me and it's all so wild and grim and funny and unbelievable but i'm going to find somewhere to live. i mean write.

cause i have to start again. today for some reason.

i'll let you know where i can post the wretched details of my latest brush with death and my comas and rehab and my overdose and the ICU and my god.

okay

[Whorella Mundane]

I will have to figure out how to describe what I went thru in the ICU ... how I ended up in two medically induced comas ... see, we've seen movies, like transporting that showed this over-the-top withdrawal ... the baby on the ceiling and it just didn't ring true. well ... everyone was telling me I was in the hospital but for at least a week, I was being held hostage while my captors looked for people who would purchase my organs, and then they would kill me. I watched a man set the room on fire ... I watched a man plant a bomb as well. and it was as real as anything. I never even knew it was possible to hallucinate so badly that there's no way to explain that it's not real.

withdrawal ... you will do anything to keep it at bay. and you will be numbed from the drugs when you make those decisions so they appear reasonable and necessary and it's not until you go thru it that you realize how insane you had been. the pain ... as your muscles clench hard enough to break bones ... and the doom is everywhere ... as if god finally succumbed to satan and is coming for you ... worse than death ... judgment.

they tied my hands down ... assigned me a person to watch me in case I escaped ... I was trying to chew thru the restraints and I would have taken off in a hospital robe and no shoes into the winter to escape.

but that's nothing compared to wondering, every day, if you'll ever see your only child alive again. or if he'll be thrown in jail and cop a felony that will destroy his ability to earn a living. or that he'll kill him and others while driving. that is the story ... what we tell the families of the addict runs counter to everything you feel ... and leaves the family with the guilt and regret ... and wow so yeah the tacklers and the opiod epidemic ... now the criminals are running rehabs and making money beyond measure ... oh it's all totally legal but we know how congress protects the most protected criminals ... and the poor counselors ... never enough of them.

I went to a facility that was amazing as it was started by recovering addicts and I was there right after it had been sold to a large company ... I'm not writing it out here. but it's coming. all of it ... how it started with my precious sister at the pain clinic ... how it grabbed her, her only daughter, cousins, friends, my son, me, his friends and it wasn't just her, the shit was everywhere. and now ... Leo is the only one left.

I can't say that what I did saved his life ... I can't help but think that when it's your time, that's it. and there's nothing you can do. you could be out jogging and get run down. or have a heart attack. when it's your time, it's your time. and it's not like the tough love families can be blamed ... they were doing what they were told. and sure, sometimes you hear an addict say 'yeah once they threw me out, I got clean' ... and there's no data on this. but I know what my experience was/is and that doesn't make it true for every single person.

I didn't go and get addicted for writing material ... I already had my heroin story with Timmy ... and it was brutal. ten years of my life ... see, when Tim booted me, I figured I could do some pills while time passed and that it wouldn't hurt me as bad. he never gave me a chance to come get my stuff - threw away all the copies of my articles ... all my early writing ... yeah ... knowing how miserable he is no longer helps when I think about it. he could have just said "I'm putting the stuff in storage, her's the information. or it's on the porch ... but no. he didn't want to face me even though I was nothing but nice. anyway. there's a reckoning ...

I'm going to go as this is kind of a warm up - who knows if I'll be back. I doubt anyone is reading. this is just ... stretching. there is serious work to be done. and people to be done with. okay hope the years are being kind to anyone who might be reading this. I still have love ... tried forgiving everyone ... couldn't do it. and my wrath ... it's driving me. and it's about fucking time.