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Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
bob@dr-bob.orgShown: posts 1 to 12 of 12. This is the beginning of the thread.
Posted by Temmie on November 3, 2003, at 21:52:01
He Says I'm His Woof Woof 11/3/2003
I am home from sharing a hotel room with a man who smoked crack day and night in front of me, openly and without shame. I’ve watched him comb the floor looking for odd bits of rock that might have fallen unnoticed and ... in frantic moments ... seen him smoke and resmoke remaining bits of "Chore Boy" steel wool "biscuits," looking for one last hit of vapor clinging to their tangled coils.
I’ve learned it’s possible to smoke crack at night ... while driving ... steering with one knee, glancing up from time to time, checking the traffic ahead, while barreling down the road at 80 miles per hour, no lights on the dash (save the flashlight plugged into the cigarette lighter for checking mph and such) ... both hands busy holding lighter to glass tubing in pursuit of another hit.
I’ve been on a crack run, heard yelling, and bottles breaking, saw hookers at work, and dealt with strangers knocking on my window waving crack pipes in my face.
"No thank you."
I’ve waited hours on end for a cuddle (finally choosing sleep, thank God for sleeping pills).
"What time is it?"
"I don’t know. Oh, yes I guess I do know ... maybe 3:30."
"3:30 in the morning? I’ve been waiting for you for five hours."
"I know Babe. Usually I don’t go to bed at all."
I’ve held a body of bones in my arm, and prayed a thousand prayers. During crashing moments, I’ve tucked him in and kissed his feet, and prayed for God to help me ... and to guide me toward that right message moving through me .... Whatever that message might be.
I wanted to go in (and come out) with my eyes wide open. And I did. This is a place I can visit, and which I’ll write more about. But I need one who is able to live, love, and function in the reality within which I reside.
Please pray for our sick, and struggling addicts and vets, still wounded by the horrors of war.
* * * * *
Later: Now my questions are these? What are the legal ramifications of my being with one who was holding ... in his car ... in his hotel room .... Is being in the company of one "aiding and abetting" or considered being "in possession" myself?
Clearly I need a reality check on boundary issues ... issues of self-care ... and matters of letting go. I am home again, 1100 miles away, but now it's back to the meeting rooms for me ... and back to my therapist on the 6th -- but until then, what do you know that I don't? (And what is your experience with those in denial about crack addiction? Do people really use until death?)
Sad and worried,
Temmie
Posted by stjames on November 4, 2003, at 17:21:22
In reply to Visit with The Crack-Head Boyfriend. Help., posted by Temmie on November 3, 2003, at 21:52:01
What is going on with you that you would hang
out in such degrading situations putting yourself at considerable risk ?
Posted by judy1 on November 4, 2003, at 19:32:11
In reply to Visit with The Crack-Head Boyfriend. Help., posted by Temmie on November 3, 2003, at 21:52:01
I think it's wonderful that you are doing everything you can to take care of yourself. The addicts I have known (and yes some crack addicts), either hit a low (usually getting arrested) or die from overdose or get in car accidents like the situation you described. I don't know the legal ramifications of being with someone who is holding, is that still an issue for you? I wish you all the best with your therapy. take care, judy
Posted by Temmie on November 4, 2003, at 21:00:26
In reply to Visit with The Crack-Head Boyfriend. Help., posted by Temmie on November 3, 2003, at 21:52:01
stjames ... I don't know. Good question. I went to an Al-Anon meeting tonight, and had a timely reminder about taking care of myself (including not putting myself at-risk, obviously). I think, perhaps, because I'm an abuse-survivor, matters of risk and danger are a curiosity for me. And, in any event, I did feel like a bit of an investigative reporter when with this man who had been my lover. I wanted to know what it was like for him. How he got ... from Point A ... sadly ... to Point Z. Plus, I loved him. At a deep level of caring. I felt the love of a mother. I felt the concern of a sister. I felt the resignation of a woman who realized the man she'd had such communion with ... had disappeared inside himself ... within the malaise of this addiction. Because I have pain too. Because, believe me, it was tempting not to do a line with him (which he was doing in addition to smoking), but I just couldn't. Because I was proud of myself for saying no to a path and a lifestyle that I knew led nowhere but downward. Because I wondered if there was any shred of soul and consciousness left in this man who had worked as a nurse and a T'ai Chi/Chi Gong practitioner. Because after 18 years of soltitude, I'd trusted him ... with my body ... and my soul ... with my vulnerabilities ... with my confidence, my hope, and my trust, until I felt that meeting him had brought me face-to-face with my mirror. Because I was worried. Because I wanted to have my eyes open, and I wanted to see and know and understand. Because I'm an old hippie and I've known and done the hippie drug scene. Because all the yelling, the "shut the f*ck up, get the f*ck out of the car, and get down the f*cking stairs," when we were in the ghetto, scared the willies out of me. Because I fully expected him to be shot in the head. Because maybe danger ... gives me a kick or a thrill ... because it's familiar. Because I was scared of the violence ... but I wanted to know it, too, so I wouldn't be afraid.
Because I loved him.
Temmie
(thank you judy1, for speaking of courage, or love -- which is perhaps nothing more than foolishness -- but seemed to stem from a place of greater depth than this.)
Posted by Festus on November 4, 2003, at 21:48:45
In reply to stjames and judy1, thank you. , posted by Temmie on November 4, 2003, at 21:00:26
I read your story with compassion and felt remorse for you being torn by love and reality.I went through very similar circumstances with my partner in life.When we first started dating,I was coming off a bad Divorce and had become quite a "functioning drunk",I guess you could call it.We,too,fell inlove,and she joined right in with my drinking and partying,I felt like I had turned her into something she really was,nt,or did not want to be.She finally backed out of the "Fast Lane"but I kept doing 90.All the bad stuff went on,the cursing and not remembering things I said or did towards her and ,finally,she realized that she could not stay with me anymore,not the way I was.So she left.She left because she really did love me enough to leave.She knew if she stayed,it would enable me to continue being a dork,a drunk,stoned dork!That was her way of seeing if I really LOVED HER!If I did not,I,d have kept partying,anyway.If that was truly the case,then she,d have been better off leaving a man that loved a buzz more than her.Thank the Lord I really did love her,cause I missed her so bad that partying wasn,t fun any more.It was fake.But love,real love is not.
As I come to a close,I hear my lovely Wife putting our 7 year old girl to bed,and I look forward to the next day now,cause It,s been 13 years since I woke up with a hangover.I,m a realist,a lover of life,not a selfish,self-destructive person who can,t or won,t face reality and defeat it,s demons in order to win it,s delights!I enjoy mine and I thank God my darlin helped me face my Demons.There is beauty and joy to be had in the short while we are here.All one must do is want it,want it bad enough to DO WHAT IT TAKES TO KEEP IT!God be with you,Temmie.Festus
Posted by octopusprime on November 5, 2003, at 0:28:39
In reply to Visit with The Crack-Head Boyfriend. Help., posted by Temmie on November 3, 2003, at 21:52:01
temmie you have said it all.
the violence, drugs, and struggle are comforting and familiar.
so is the love. and i believe you that the love is real.
and if we rip away all that is comfortable and familiar, what are we left with?
we're left with what we always dreamed we could be if we could find our voices and stand up for ourselves. you talked about what he did with him self (t'ai chi etc) - what do you want to do with yourself?
dream of your future on your own two feet. create a positive vision of an independent you, and move toward it. one tiny tiny step at a time. the meetings and the therapist will help. grieve the loss of the man you loved, and move forward for a better life for you.
there is a better life out there after leaving an addict. the pain of leaving and initial fallout is horrible. a few years later, once the fog has worn off, and you've discovered a new you, there is another life.
courage. be strong.
Posted by Temmie on November 5, 2003, at 15:55:20
In reply to Re: Visit with The Crack-Head Boyfriend. Help., posted by octopusprime on November 5, 2003, at 0:28:39
For your stirring messages of optimism (on the one hand), and hope (on the other). As always, I do need to look at my own issues of attachment here. For all those who've followed this story, know it's one step forward, two steps back (or sometimes two forward, and one back). Maybe that's putting it better.
I was stuck this morning by what a "holy" (i.e., personal, private) thing this was that I'm working through ... Caring for another, in secret, as it were, and working to turn it over into the hands of another ... unseen ... bigger, more powerful force -- while praying for guidance on my own, and octopusprime! -- rebuilding that vision of who I am ... alone ... and what I've come here to do.
To dream dreams.
To make a bit of heaven on earth.
To do a little art.
To leave a more joyful, beautiful legacy.
Thank you both. Boyfriend called today, and I'm a little less "aswoon" than other times (is that a word?) ... but still too vulnerable. It is good, so good for me to have this place here, and I thank you Dr. Bob and others.
Much affection, Temmie
Posted by Medusa on November 6, 2003, at 0:53:14
In reply to Festus and octopusprime, thank you , posted by Temmie on November 5, 2003, at 15:55:20
> As always, I do need to look at my own issues of attachment here.
>Temmie, I think it's important that you focus *primarily* on your attachment and boundary issues.
Your boundaries, those that you have, are very fluid. On airplanes, the blurb before the flight says that one should put on one's own oxygen mask before helping others with theirs. You're putting your own oxygen mask on someone else ... which isn't holy, it isn't helping in the long run. You want to have hope, which is very inspiring, but your application of that hope is setting you up for despair. If you take a bit of pain (probably a *lot* of pain with this kind of work) now, you'll truly have an emotionally, spiritually etc much richer life as you work through the issues and afterwards as you work through the issues the old ones covered.
First, what boundaries already exist? What's something you would NOT feel comfortable with? Now, some people wouldn't have even that boundary in place - what would you say to them?
> still too vulnerable.What can you do to bolster yourself?
You're worth protecting, Temmie. You spend a lot of time using feelings of holiness and wonder to nurse your own wounds permitted by your own insufficient boundaries. It might be time for some holy rage, some righteous terror, to protect Temmie ... so that she'll become strong and whole to carry on caring later.
Posted by Temmie on November 6, 2003, at 16:47:21
In reply to Temmie ... boundaries, posted by Medusa on November 6, 2003, at 0:53:14
I'm looking at how this "issue" here ... this situation I've been working through for the last year ... how it mirrors events of my childhood. My therapist this morning used an interesting phrase, "working in the service of mastery," which she described as Freudian in origin. Sounds good to me.
(Sounds more positive than saying I'm apparently doomed to keep repeating the same d*mn mistake until I get it right.)
BF called today. He had an A&B trial in MA, which I thought/he thought was going to be dropped, as the defendant has failed to show up for the last three court dates. Apparently there's a continuance. I don't know all the legal jargon, but I know what this means for BF. More ambiguity. Increased months of time with no structure. More free-floating drug-use. I feel compelled to advise him: (1) you life is in a state of disarray; (2) get some help, get someone to advocate for you, (3) go into treatment, etc. etc. etc.
It makes me sick with the recent windfall of $35K, he could have gotten a job at McDonald's for God's sake and bought himself a home.
He's too diseased to see that now (and now, the money is gone).
When we were together he was talking about going into dealing. I know what that means. There's no money. There's product available through wholesaling. In the meantime, he's picking at crumbs on the floor and spending 30-minutes or more at a time, in pursuit of "one good hit."
Apparently there's a lot of play involved with crack-use. You should see his hotel room. Propane torches going ("there kind of like candles"), pipes all over the place ... in the bathroom ... on the bedside table ... under the bed ... etc.)
There's a lot of fiddling around, and a lot of lost time.
My therapist said today, "What would happen if you just didn't call him back? Or take his calls?" I'm working on taking his calls ... but not placing any of my own -- and I'm working -- hard -- in the service of mastery to recover that lost, damaged little girl who was raped and beaten into submission as a youth, and hasn't apparently yet learned how to stand up for her own truth.
Thank you for your posts .... I appreciate the discussion of boundaries, and will be back soon. It helps me ... writing here. XXX, Temmie
Posted by Temmie on November 7, 2003, at 18:21:40
In reply to Temmie ... boundaries, posted by Medusa on November 6, 2003, at 0:53:14
I talked with an attorney friend tonight who shared interesting insights (at least they were interesting to me) about "guilt by association," and the fact that because crack is exhaled -- it's in the environment -- potentially in my clothes, my hair, and in my blood.
Plus, being a teacher, and thus mandated by law to report -- whatever it is we're mandated to report -- instances of bodily harm, abuse, or whatever -- I would definitely have been at risk for losing my license, just by virtue of the fact that I didn't leave the premises just as soon as I saw/knew what was going on.
Tom recommended getting the name of a counselor (or two), and writing Paul a letter. Here's the only way I can deal with your situation, etc., and here's what I can't (or am not willing) to do. Then to refuse all his calls, etc. To tell him if he wants to contact me, that he should write me a letter. And that the letter had better begin with, "Thank you for ... bla bla bla ...," or "I'm writing from the such-and-such facility," etc.
It's going to be hard to do. This situation does so mirror the abuse of my brother -- and that hard-driven belief if only I'd loved my brother enough ... or done things the right way ... if only I'd had a more perfect love, somehow ... that my brother would have stopped abusing me (and my father would have loved me). Too heavy to go into or explain beyond that.
I did some reading last night, though, that made my hair stand on end.
Paul is clearly in the psychosis stage (picking up crumbs off the floor), definitely doesn't see straight ("I've got a handle on this"), he's irritable and argumentative. He likely has pulmonary damage, based on his cough -- and based on the bag of bones I held in my arms -- some level of malnutrition.
The only good thing I can say about holding him, was that this time I felt little, unless it was pity. Previously I've made promises to God ... "this is the soul that I want." I couldn't utter that same promise this time. And love-making wasn't making love, but something much worse than this, as I'm sure you might imagine.
It was gross, and had everything to do with reminding me about giving my body to my brother ... when I was too little, too young, too weak, too small, and too naive to know better.
I know better now, of course, but that's that part of me that isn't fully whole.
You know?
I have a lot of growing to do. (And a lot of healing to undergo).
Next week is Paul's birthday, and I'm determined to send a gift package of some sort. Just a few essentials. I don't feel I'm able to cut things off immediately. But you know what? I can stop calling him, d*mn it. "Call me instead," Tom said, "and we'll talk the Yankees and NY sports."
I can call someone else instead.
Or write you guys.
I can stop placing calls. I can keep going to meetings -- as best and as often as I'm able with my busy schedule. I can do what I've gotta do to get by, and I can start drafting that letter to send ...
... as soon as I'm able.
It's pitiful, I know, and tiring to watch my slow, slow progress through this malaise. It's just that he touched something. (And he made me feel lovable.) I guess, from one sick person to another, he knew just what I most needed to hear.
I'm tired. I'm really tired. I have a lot of work to do tomorrow ... for an upcoming presentation ... and I need to focus.
I wonder about how or whether I've created this distraction, the diversion in this.
I wonder if I'm a pain or panic junkie, and if this is how you see me, I'm sorry. It's felt much deeper than this, and apparently speaks to some level of growth my soul felt was now time to address.
Thank you all for your support. Even though I feel like such a baby, and you aren't here to hold me -- gasp, I'm so needy -- I guess I can learn to hold and rock myself.
Rockabye Temmie. Rockabye and goodnight.
Posted by fallsfall on November 11, 2003, at 10:55:14
In reply to Guilt by Association, posted by Temmie on November 7, 2003, at 18:21:40
Temmie,
I am sorry to see you in pain.
But I think that you are starting to understand what is motivating you. The parallels with your brother seem quite clear. What happened to him? Please know that "saving" Paul will not help your brother. But it could destroy you.
I understand that he gave you a spark that was intoxicating to you. But he has also given you a great deal of pain. Put them on a balance scale - the love on one side, the pain on the other. What happens?
Please set boundaries - "If you are not in treatment, then I can't talk to you" - something like that. He has to make his decisions, but you have to make your own, too.
You were appalled during your visit. Tell him that you can not be involved (even peripherally) in that kind of "life". Make a stand for yourself.
Temmie, he is not your brother.
With love,
Falls
Posted by temmie on November 11, 2003, at 19:19:36
In reply to Re: Guilt by Association » Temmie, posted by fallsfall on November 11, 2003, at 10:55:14
Thank you, Falls.
Thanks.
Getting there.
Temmie
This is the end of the thread.
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