Gavyn. Now I know how doctors feel with a hopeless patient.

Gavyn has been coked up all week, and when I spoke to him a few hours ago, his speech sounded slurred like he was having a neurological problem.

(It didn’t sound like drunk slurred, a different kind of slurred….stroke slurred (?)

Yesterday he rambled on about how he hated eaten in two days, yet he’d done 30 lines of coke in *each* nostril.

“I think I’m becoming addicted Tara…I’ve never been addicted before, but I’m craving it, ya know? I’m craving it. I’m craving cocaine. Jamie is going to get a big fat eight ball right now—and—and—I can’t wait.”

I told him to get himself to the hospital and get himself admitted so he can sober up (any doctor would see quickly he’s coked out of his mind, would work up his neurological issue, so I was hoping he would just get himself to a hospital—)

At the rate he’s going, he’s going to die — being young can only carry someone so far, then the body will shut down —

Then when I talked to him a couple of hours ago today, I was firm “you need to go to a hospital”, and he kept mumbling in that strange speech, “I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay, I’ll call you in a little bit—I’ll call you in an hour—“

Well, I’ve decided he needs more than a little bit and god knows I’m swamped with my own problems, so I just texted him not to contact me until he sobers up (which will probably be never—)

It’s a really weird feeling to care about someone who is a train wreck in action. It’s particularly frustrating for me, because most of my train wreck problems are not of my own doing (though I admit some are…), so to hear someone do this to themselves…it’s frustrating—

It also makes me sad too…I had a rough childhood, very rough at times, and in spite of all of that I made it out okay…more than okay, I chose to make something of my life, to rise above the way I had been treated, and treat others better than what I’d been through—

So to hear something be doing this…who needs abusive parents around when you’re torturing yourself?

I can’t do it…can’t do it anymore…he needs so much help…I feel bad for him, but I have to stay focused on what I need to be doing right now, even though I don’t exactly what that is, I know whatever it is, it isn’t this—

About hopeforanswers

Some kind of rare immune deficiency, yet to be determined. A lifetime of infections without an elevated white cell blood or fever. Very grateful to be alive, very thankful for the friends who’ve supported me and for access to literally millions of dollars worth of medical care. I’m not the bubble child, I’m somewhere in between.
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