Writing Wednesday 015: “Write A Letter From the Point of View of A Drug Addict..”
This is a new challenge for me, and by now you should know I like challenges. Today, and for the next 5 installments (Writing Wednesday 015–020) I will be doing an exercise in creativity and stepping outside of my personal development narrative. For the next 5 weeks, I’ll be utilizing a book as a writing prompt and randomly flipping to a page for my topic. The book is called 642 Things To Write About by The San Fransisco Writers Grotto and as the title would suggest, it’s a compendium of things one may write about. My assignment for today is to “Write a letter from the point of view of a drug addict” Interesting. Allow me to begin.
I’m out. I haven’t had any in a few days, but I need it. You know me by now, you know how I get. I can’t get enough of it. I’m in pain and you’re the only one that can help. Everything’s fucked. My boss fired me after not showing up, and I’m on the couch at my sisters because I couldn’t make rent. My car got repossessed and they took any custody of Jessie away too. Sheila won't talk to me at all, and has threatened a restraining order if I try to see her or Jessie again. Times are tough, and before you last saw me I had started to get it all back together. I was doing well, but then I pushed it too far. Life sucks. I’m in pain all the time — I know I already said that but for real doc, I’m hurting. Not everybody gets me like you do, they don’t understand what I’ve been through or my needs like you do.
After my last visit, and you telling me to “stay the hell away from you”, I thought I’d give it a shot. I thought that you meant it. But I couldn’t do it. Just like I can’t give up these pills. 6 months ago when I left your office and you gave me the prescription I begged for just to get rid of me, I knew you were a good man. I knew you’d always help me, even if I made you mad. So it’s been about 182 days now. Have you chilled out? The prescription refills lasted until about a month ago, but now I can’t get any more. I’m thinking about going to the south side of town to find some on the street, but I don’t think they’ve got what I need and I’d rather have you help. I still get a benefit check from the accident and can pay you some extra to help me out doc.
I really really really really apologize for getting violent at your office. You know from back in 9th grade that I’m always sorry after getting mad. Remember when I broke Stan’s arm for bullying you? You saw that I felt really bad after that, especially when the football team went 1–11 without their best running back. We go way back and you still owe me for being untouchable for the rest of high school after me and Stan fought. That best friend is in a tight spot. I’ll do anything to get another 6 months. I just need to get back on my feet. I can’t sleep, I’ve been up trying to write this damn letter ever since I ran out. This is probably the 5th version. The others were too angry and didn’t make any sense. Nothing makes any sense anymore so this is my last time to try writing this.
Come on man, we’ve been through a lot and you can’t deny that I need this stuff. I can’t handle life and all the crazy shit without it. I need to be able to relax and get in control. Right now nothing's going right, not even the damn Lakers. They can’t win. I know how they feel. I hope you remember how I used to be. I hope you remember how I was a good dad to Jessie, and a good husband. I was a good man. Good enough to be your best man. I’m in all your wedding photos bro. We’ve got history. I think by now you know I’m seriously pulling out all the stops for you to find it in your heart to get me my pills. Other doctors can’t help me. They say its all in my head, one almost got me locked up at the funny farm. Nobody believes what happened that one night. But you were there. That night changed everything. I thought I could go back to normal life after that, and for a time I did. But I can’t. We can’t. I know you still think of it too, but you have any pill you want doc. You can make yourself forget that night. Without the pills the memories just take over.
When they came and took us, from that field we went different places. Maybe they didn’t hurt you. Maybe they didn’t get in your head and show you the stuff I saw. You still never told me everything. But they fucked me up dude. When we came back it was like they rewired me. I’m afraid. I’m afraid they are coming back. I’m scared that they’ll take me and Sheila and Jessie. I hate being scared. I hate being alone. I hate the way people look at me and nobody believes that I was taken. They don’t even believe they exist. The pills were really helping, the pills brought me relief. Now it’s all fallen away, and I don’t even know if I can go on.
I wish we were back home on summer break from college tearing the town up. I wish it was the good ole days. I wish we could have started that bar together like we always talked about. I wish you and I never went star gazing that night. I wish we never asked if there was anything up there in the sky watching us. I WISH I had some fucking pills!!!!!
Sorry, I’m just freaking out a little bit. I just don’t know what’s going to happen next. Maybe I should finish this letter and try to sleep. Oh yeah, I CAN’T. I’m a wreck, and my sister says I can only stay a few more days. I hope you read this and have a change of heart. I need you. I need the stuff that makes me forget that night, and get control back. You’re the only one who understands. You’re the only one who cares. I know you still do. I know you have a heart and I know you want to help.
Help me doc.
[Afterword: I thought that was a cool challenge. The writing isn’t great, but I took it an interesting direction and am happy to be changing up my practice to provide differentiation.]
Let me know what you thought in the comments below.