The Fat of the Land

I rushed down through the briars, brush, and ditch to the mangled, upside down pontiac. My heart was racing. I had never seen a dead body before, nor had I ever been in a position to save someone's life. Simply put... I was afraid. It was only by the grace of God that I caught a glimpse of the carnage in the first place. And when I say "by the grace of God", you will find out later how ironic that is for me to say.

As I got closer to the vehicle there were clothes, papers, and glass scattered throughout the woods. Skid-marks showed that the car suddenly veered left on a straight-a-way, leaving the highway and going airborn for almost 20 yards. When it finally touched down it appeared as though it had flipped end over end maybe 5 times. It was a horrible, heap of a mess. The passenger window was busted out with a trail of blood leading out of it. I called out to see if anyone was out there. No response. I searched the brush and gullies finding nothing or anyone. I pulled out my cell phone and called the deputy of Marion county, Kyle Snider.

While I waited for the authorities, curiosity got the best of me. I rumaged through the wreck. A 2009 Columbus High Graduation card, a receipt for sub-woofers, blunt wraps, condoms, a pink flip flop, a small baggy of marijuana, but nothing of importance. I walked back towards the road and noticed a driver's license. John Cody Cochran. I don't recall his age but he was probably between 18-20 years old. A white male.

Then I saw it. A small ziplock bag of 3 small pills. The pill of forgetfulness and unforgiveness. Today would be a day that I wouldn't remember much of but a day that I would never forget. A day that I forgot who I was. A small ziplock bag with 3 small Xanax pills.

Eventually the authorities showed up and eventually I went home. My father was at work. A captain at the Phenix City fire department. My little brother had an intern program for a week at CNN, so my mother was gone also, taking him up to Atlanta. A nice quiet Sunday alone. Any normal person would be taking a shower and getting ready for church. Not me.

9:30AM- My mom and younger brother leave. I pop a half of a yellow Xanax bar. Called my girlfriend, no answer, checked my email, throw in some good ol' downloaded porn and I've got stereo-typical, still living at home 25 year old junkie written on my forehead. And that's how my morning started... I think.

Same little bedroom upstairs at my parent's house. Same little t.v. Same couch. Same thoughts... and that's the worst. Arguing with other people in side my own mind. Sometimes I preach to myself: "1 Cor. 13:11! Grow up, man" "Go to church" "You fuckin' dirty sinner" "Do you realize what you are?" " Failure" "God forgives" "Save yourself" And sometimes it's my dad: "Go to work" "Do you like ruining my life?" "Why?" "Why are you like this?" "Finish school" But I don't say anything to anyone's face... no. I argue with them when they are gone. Crazy, huh? I don't know what's worse, the drugs and alcohol or my own mind.

10:20AM- I snort another quarter of a pill. I'm beginning to relax. I sit alone, remote in hand, watching ESPN. Suddenly my anxiety and conscience have subsided. I think I'm happy. I've called Trina, my girlfriend, a couple more times but still no answer.

AT times inside my head I remind myself of every bad thing that I have ever done or said. I can't stop it. I often think what's worse that being crazy? Maybe it's actually knowing that I am but there is nothing that I can do to change it. "Hey, do you remember the time you stole checks from your grandma to cash them and go buy crack?" or "That time you smashed your dad's truck window?" "STOP IT!!" "Pathetic" "Sex with prostitutes" Whenever one thing goes right I remind myself of 5 things I've done wrong. It's a viscious circle of depression and self loathing.

Somewhere around 11:30AM, I've gotten in touch with Trina but she only comes over for about 5 minutes. Just long enough to give me a hug and get half a pill from me. I don't think she came to see me because she loves me or misses me but because she wanted that pill. I have to bribe my so-called girlfriend. She also has a vodka mixed drink. I down the whole cup. She leaves. I snort another quarter of a pill.

Love isn't like you see in the movies. No one truly cares about another person the way they did in "The Notebook". True love died about 3 decades ago with the cocaine and drug boom in the late '60's and '70's. It's just sex and arguments now. I've been in around 20 relationships and none have worked out. 90% of the problems... me. Probably. The way my mind works, I'm very needy emotionally. Therapists and doctors claim that my childhood relationship with my mother is partly to blame with my emotions towards women. I had a physicallyand very verbally and mentally abusive relationship but that's for another part of my story... not today.

12:15PM- I'm heading down the highway. I've called my buddy Slawdog but he didn't answer. It is Father's day so I suppose most everyone is spending time with their dad and not out getting loaded, looking for a party. There is no explanation for my actions on this day. Some people may call it addiction or being callow. I say I've lost my mind.

"Today, I will watch myself and listen to myself as I go through the day" - New Horizons Addiction Center



* More to come soon, I've only scratched the surface!*