one week

I am not sleeping.

I've relapsed.

Syringes on the table at the Hilton hotel, the same exact room Dez and I had stayed in together.

The last time she promised she would try... She tried for a day, got tired of my bitching and everything came to a complete stop.

Now everything is full speed ahead.

I'm speedballing and fine with it.

I'm sitting in my car in the hotel parking lot. The engine is cold and idle, all my windows are down and the heater is on full blast. I'm staring at the dashboard, eyes glued to a series of writing scribbles etched into the glass. 

"How long have I been sitting here? What time am I supposed to check out?"

I'm having a full-on conversation with the nobody that sits next to me. Schizophrenia. I haven't slept for 3 days. My fingers frozen and numb, clawing firmly around the steering wheel like I am driving. Knuckles white. I've been parading around the four star hotel in a pair of red short spandex exposing the bottom of my butt cheeks, a white wife beater without a bra and a pair of tan timberland boots with laces untied.

Cute, really classy, Jamie. 

Darkness around me as my eyes flicker open, looking outside I notice it's now evening and my windshield is covered by a thick layer of snow. I must have nodded out for a minute, Time didn't matter anymore. Nothing really did.  I unclenched my fists, stretching my stiff muscles as the spring winter air pierced my skin.

Where the f*** is my sweater and what the hell am I wearing?

Still having a conversation with the ghost that sits next to me. I pause, like I'm waiting for an answer, watching my breath fog the space in front of me. The sound of teeth clattering, reaching upwards towards my ears.

God how do I look?

The last person I'd want to see me like this is her.  I flipped the visor down, and inspected my face. Cloudy bags, it's clear I haven't slept in days, my eyelids are partially open, like a small crescent moon, no color to my eyes, just darkness. I'm high as f***.

Have I been crying?

I don't remember what I've been doing. I push open my door and I can both feel and hear the crack of the ice over the panel gap. The ACT is taking more exertion than I had, I'm struggling. With a deep breath and a firm push my door swings open wide, it hits the minivan next to me, with a thud.

Oops, my bad. 

The neighborhood is blanketed with snow, the structures are revealed in a soft mist of falling flakes. It's a picturesque scene marred only by the chilled wind. I notice I'm missing my boots. I never wear socks, my feet are naked. My feet scraping against the crystalline surface, I cry out almost collapsing. My feet were blue, swollen and nearly frostbitten. Each step I take is agonizing, a faint trail of blood leaking from my right foot, chills threatening to overcome me and send me collapsing into an above earth grave, until at last I find my hotel key and rub it against the surface for the doors to unlock.  The doors yielding to me as I enter, the security guard looks up at me.

"Welcome back Ms. JAMIE."

The hotel employee sitting at the desk acknowledges my shaggy appearance and I am everything but graceful. A welcoming warmth embraces me, the ice in my bones melting away and feeling returns to my frozen body.

I sigh with a deep breath as I take comfort in settling back into the hotel room. My breathing turned to panting and I dropped to sit against the shower door, my heart and head pounding. My heart rate was slowing down, rapidly my chest feels heavy and breathing in deep is getting harder and harder. I'm seeing spots around the room and I am suddenly lost. Thoughts fire through my head.

Do I run? Should I call someone? My feet are f***** I won't get far.

Where are my boots? 

Call the police, what should I say? 

“Hello, I'm really high, I just went through a breakup, I work for the department of defense and I feel like I might have overdosed on a bunch of benzos and meth. I don't know where I am, I'm afraid can you help locate me?”

That's how that phone call would go. I need to bandage my foot. I remember now why I was bleeding. I was shooting into my foot right between my toes. I stare at the red nearly purple hole in between my toes and it doesn't look good. 

I'm walking forward, one foot in front of the other. 

What else did I do but continue to walk forward on Monday?

My blood is moving and I can feel it thicken with every step. And then everything goes black. Just darkness. 

That was Monday. 

//////

Tuesday

Tuesday, my girlfriend, wait, my friend, I don't even know what to call her, anyway. She had actually been texting me, calling me and…I felt so bothered. Now, you are trying? Back and forth back and forth back and forth. I was getting seasick.

Now, I'm being distant and God forbid now she wants the same consistent effort.

Whoa. That's not right. It's Tuesday.

My ex-girlfriend is texting me. I'm trying to respond. My hands are too cold to type. And I'm just stuck. I try so hard to call her but I can't because my lips are blue, my breath comes out in little fluffy puffs, and then I forget what I was doing.

I'm losing my voice again, raspy and deep. I do not want to talk about Saturday so let's not talk about Saturday. 

//////

Wednesday - hump day

Right, I had dinner with some friends. Han and Dreen. The only other people in my life. I cherish the two of them so wholeheartedly.

But this day I was having trouble appreciating anything.

I'm shivering, cold, hot sweats as I dip a grilled cheese into tomato soup. I hated tomato soup and it was cold.

Why am I eating tomato soup?

My teeth felt like they were going to fall out shots of pain went right into my root, and blood was running down my gums. and to the back of my throat.

Am I choking? My blood tastes like icy iron and it makes me start to dry heave.

Wait…that's not right.........

I fell asleep while dipping my grilled cheese into the tomato soup. I imagine my gums would bleed from the cold.

They didn't. Han was a concerned friend. She woke me up and we left. Saturday was bad. I'm not ready to talk about it. So let's not talk about Saturday.

Thursday was a let down. 

 It's date night. Well, sort of, I get to see her when she's off work, at midnight. It's my favorite day and I haven't seen her in weeks. I love her and I love it. And I'm happy and excited. I just can't wait. Trying to stay awake, the cold has been making me feel tired and I'm getting up at 4:00 a.m. every morning and midnight is still 6 hours away.

Caffeine can fix this. And so I wait… wait… she doesn't call, she doesn't text, it's well past 12:30 a.m.  I can feel my anxiety turn into pure rage.

Why do I keep doing this to myself?

I had rearranged my day, centered my week around the 1 hour I'd get to see her. I was wearing my new affliction shirt, my nails were frenched…i was sober the whole day. fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.

I turn my phone off.

I curl up on the couch into a small peanut. And I cried and I cried hard.

I left nearly 10 minutes later and headed to loveland. A different someone was waiting for me. She wanted to see me all of the time. I wanted to be held by someone who would tell me it's going to be okay.

So, that night a different girl held me, kissed my lips, softly tasted me and I didn't care. My phone was off.

Next morning.

Phone is back on, Dezaray's text came in, I didn't read it. I'm numb and I can't get warm, nobody can help me. I watched her get dressed in her uniform, Loveland police department, she strapped her gun to her waist, yelled at her partner Benji, (canine partner that is). 

“You can sleep here all day.”

She whispered to me. 

 "I'd love for you to be laying in my bed when I get off work tonight." 

Pretty enticing, inviting, welcoming and warm. She kisses me on the cheek and slips out of the doorway.

“ Baby please lock the doors if you leave. Have a great day and don't be a stranger.” 

“Baby?”

is she calling me baby now?

“Baby…baby…baby.”

 I instantly think of you. I roll over on my stomach and I push my face into her pillow. It smells of savage cologne. I know nothing will help me. I didn't love her! It's not the same! She's not Dez.

The steps I took on Monday, my grilled cheese tomato soup mess, text from my ex-girlfriend, and even her hands…Nothing could stop the bitter cold from stabbing me over and over again. 

Pause. 

That's not right. 

I'm being dramatic.

 

That day I went home, crawled into my bed and slept. I slept all day after being up all night playing cops and robbers. I was exhausted, I bundled and layered myself in clothes and blankets. And just went right to sleep. It was that quick. 

 then Saturday. It's Saturday.