Dying to Survive

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Dying to Survive Page 17

by Rachael Keogh


  ‘Yes I am. But I’ve done some really bad stuff.’ I knew that Timmy had problems. He had been heavily confronted earlier in group because he had blatantly refused to make breakfast for the staff and the clients. He had stomped his feet and stormed out of the kitchen, without giving an explanation as to why he wouldn’t do his chore. Eventually the truth came out that Timmy had serious issues with authority figures. He didn’t like being told what to do. Seemingly he was still haunted by memories of being in the army.

  No amount of assurance that I gave Timmy could ease his worries. I couldn’t be that bad, I thought. Anyway, I had enough on my own plate. I was missing Big Mick badly. I had heard that he had got out of hospital and was recovering really well. He had tried to make contact with me in the Rutland, but I just wasn’t ready to speak to him yet.

  After telling the group about our relationship, the counsellors suggested that Big Mick come up for Concerned Persons day. Big Mick knew me inside-out and the thought of him confronting me scared me half to death. But I agreed to do it anyway. It was arranged for Big Mick to be my first CP.

  When the day arrived, I was really nervous about seeing Big Mick. He was a former client of the Rutland and he knew exactly how the groups worked. There wouldn’t be any chance of him holding back on information.

  I caught a glimpse of his tall frame and his green Gortex jacket. As usual, Big Mick had a cup of coffee in one hand and a Dunhill Light in the other. As soon as the prep group was over, I walked over to where he stood. He held his arms out to embrace me. That old familiar smell of Eternity for Men was there and I just wanted to stay there for ever. But I knew in my heart that there was no going back for myself and Big Mick.

  ‘You’re very welcome, Michael,’ Ann opened the session. ‘Would you like to tell us a little bit about Rachael and her addiction?’

  ‘Well,’ Mick began, ‘I have always tried to be there for Rachael throughout her addiction. But I’ve always felt that Rachael’s real problems lay with the relationship, or lack of relationship, with her mother and her father. Her grandmother has always been there, but I don’t think that was ever enough for Rachael. It’s as though she has always tried to replace those relationships with the drugs.’

  Mick knew all the right things to say, I thought, but then he dropped the bombshell. ‘And if I’m to be entirely honest, she did it with the prostitution as well.’ I had told Mick all about my life on Baggot Street, all the horrible details. But I couldn’t believe he was now telling everyone else. I could feel myself going red. I hadn’t had the chance to tell the group about the prostitution yet. I was planning on doing that in my First Step. Mick continued, ‘I have always seen potential in Rachael and it was frustrating knowing what she was doing and not being able to help her. But I didn’t take it personally because I understand myself what it’s like.’

  ‘Yourself and Rachael were in a relationship together, right?’ said Ann.

  ‘Yeah, we’ve been together over the last two years. She was doing so well in the beginning, but then she went off the rails again. It broke my heart. You know how much I love you, don’t you?’ he said, looking right into my eyes. ‘I would’ve married you, but you kept on saying that you were too dependent on me. I was so angry with you when you used and it killed me to see you so upset all the time. But I tried my best. I really did. I never meant for things to turn out the way they did. I’m really sorry.’

  What was he sorry for? He’d done nothing wrong. I felt like crying. I genuinely loved Big Mick, but in all the wrong ways. He was more like a father figure to me.

  ‘Do you think Rachael used you?’ asked Ultan.

  Big Mick had to think about that one. ‘I don’t know if “used” is the right word. She leaned on me and I let her. But yeah, I think that she was with me for the wrong reasons.’

  ‘And how does that feel?’

  ‘I don’t think she meant to hurt me. She didn’t go out of her way to use me,’ Mick explained.

  ‘Be honest, Michael,’ urged Ultan.

  ‘Ok, I was really hurt knowing that Rachael was with me for all the wrong reasons. But I hoped that she would eventually grow to love me. It hurt that I was never enough.’

  Jesus, I was such a little bitch. I had thought about nothing but myself. I had expected Big Mick’s life to revolve around mine and I never really thought about how I might be affecting him. I was shocked when he relapsed, but it wasn’t until then that I realised what I was doing to him. That was all Big Mick had to say. But I knew that the group would get stuck into me later on. That was how it worked.

  That day I felt sad saying goodbye to Big Mick. He told me that he and the little house in the country were missing me and that I was always welcome back. ‘Co-dependency and all,’ he said, always being the joker.

  _____

  The intense group therapy and the constant activity was really knocking me for six. I wasn’t used to a routine and I seemed to be permanently tired. But for the first time in ages I was getting a decent night’s sleep. Those negative spiritual attachments seemed to have disappeared and my head was beginning to slow down. I had peace at last. I realised that the mistake I had made the last time with the prayer and meditation was that I had brought it to the extreme: I had turned the prayers into an obsessive chant which really disturbed my mind. I had become as hooked on prayer as I had been on heroin. But it was important for me to pray and meditate. I just had to find a balance. And I also had to find a quiet place to do it. I was too paranoid to pray in my bedroom in case somebody would walk in and catch me. Then they would definitely think that I was mad. So I decided to go into the bathroom.

  Just as I was drifting off to the sound of my own mantra, the bathroom door swung open. ‘Oh, Jaysus, I’m sorry,’ said this young girl whose face was really familiar. I knew her well, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember how.

  ‘Rachael?’ she said, as I quickly jumped to my feet.

  ‘Where do I know you from?’ I asked her, red in the face.

  ‘D’ye not remember me? Jessica! We lived in a squat together out in Ballymun.’ Now I remembered. But Jessica looked so different. She had obviously taken a beating from the heroin, but she was still very pretty. She was a tiny little thing, with a long plum-coloured bob. She was chatty, straightforward and full of nervous energy. We were going to share a room together, she said. I wasn’t sure if this would be a good thing or a bad thing. Only time would tell.

  _____

  Today I could relax because all I had to do was listen to Timmy read out his First Step, the one that had caused him so much difficulty. The famous box of tissues was placed on the floor in the middle of the circle. Timmy sat in his chair, stiffly holding his A4 pages, as the group took turns to smile at him in encouragement.

  ‘Ok, Timmy, you can start reading out your step,’ said Ann. Timmy began to give the group different examples of how he had experienced being powerless over his addiction. He spoke of the time when he drank alcohol against his own will, and the hurt that he caused his family. He told us how his alcoholism had progressed from an early age and how it had got worse when he had left the army. To me it was all very normal stuff for someone who was an alcoholic and I wondered why Timmy had been so afraid to read it out. Within a very short space of time, Timmy was finished reading out his First Step, but I just knew that he wasn’t being completely honest. You can’t bullshit a bullshitter.

  ‘Timmy, you’ve skipped some questions,’ said Ultan.

  Beads of sweat were trickling down Timmy’s forehead. ‘Oh, I know. I got stuck on that question about how my addiction manifests itself. I didn’t really understand it.’

  ‘It means in what areas does your addiction go? When is it most visible and how?’ There was a long pause. ‘Why do you think you started drinking in the first place, Timmy?’ Ultan asked. ‘What were you running from?’

  Everyone looked at Timmy. He was wiping invisible fluff off his trousers. ‘I don’t know. Myself maybe.’


  ‘What’s so bad about Timmy that he has to run from himself?’ Ultan continued.

  Timmy leaned his head on his hand. ‘I just can’t stand myself, Ultan.’

  ‘Why, Timmy?’ Another long pause. ‘Because I was abused, that’s why. And now I’ve become the abuser.’ Everyone’s eyes were shifting from one person to the other. And I was beginning to feel really uncomfortable.

  ‘How d’you mean you’ve become the abuser?’ Ultan was homing in on Timmy now. He was sitting on the edge of his chair with his head held low, as though he was trying to get down to Timmy’s level.

  ‘I have become an abuser. Things got so bad that I began to flash at women.’ All the eyes were shifting around the room again.

  Ultan didn’t seem fazed. ‘Do you want to talk about this, Timmy?’

  Timmy cupped his face in his hands. ‘No, I can’t, I can’t,’ he said. ‘I feel so ashamed.’

  ‘Can you describe the shame, Timmy?’

  Ah, Ultan, will you just stop, I screamed at him in my head. Now Timmy was tearing at his face and he was no longer with us in the group room. He seemed to be gone somewhere else in his mind. ‘I know what it’s like to be abused and it’s not fucking nice. How could I do that to those women?’

  ‘How did it make you feel at the time, Timmy?’

  ‘I felt powerful and ashamed at the same time, but then I just felt empty. I can feel it everywhere.’ Timmy was tearing at his arms now and his face was distorted.

  I couldn’t listen to this any more. I was on the verge of bolting out the door. I felt nauseous and I wanted to vomit. Memories of my own sexual deviances came rushing to the front of my mind: the dark lanes of Baggot Street, the dirty perverted men, desperately trying to fill themselves up at any cost. The seediness of it all. The devastation of giving that part of myself away, just for a bag of heroin. And the emptiness. Yes, I knew that feeling only too well. That big sore hole right in the middle of my chest that nothing could fill and the loneliness that no man or woman could take away. ‘Fuck you anyway, Timmy,’ I wanted to lash out at him. To me, he represented all those men to whom I had given my power. The group room was beginning to spin and I was finding it harder to breathe. Timmy was sobbing uncontrollably. Ultan stopped provoking him and he allowed him to cry.

  _____

  The lights in the NA—Narcotics Anonymous—room were cruel and unforgiving. I was in no humour for an NA meeting, especially after the group that we had, but it was compulsory for the clients to go to their meetings so I had no choice. Myself, Chris and Jessica huddled together down the back of the room and I just wished I were invisible. I was struck by the numbers of addicts, now in recovery, who had come to the meeting to carry their message, about forty of them, looking so well, as though they hadn’t a care in the world. ‘I AM RESPONSIBLE...,’ it said in big black writing on the wall.

  The meeting started and for about thirty minutes a man spoke about his experiences with drugs and his recovery. He had also done a stint in the Rutland and he was a long time clean. He couldn’t emphasise enough how important it was for him to have the support of NA throughout his recovery. ‘I didn’t come in here brimming with hope and all those good things. I was hopeless, homeless, helpless, unemployable and desperate. I hadn’t a clue what people were on about when they used the words like “surrendering to a power greater than myself,” or “powerlessness”. But I stuck with it, putting one foot in front of the other. And now my life has done a complete turn-around.’ This man was a graphic designer with his own home and he liked to travel the world taking pictures. If he can do it, then so can I, I thought to myself. From here onwards I would be on the look-out for a good woman who could be my sponsor, to guide me through the programme and to support me in my recovery.

  After listening to different people speak, my spirits lifted. These meetings really do work, I thought. I knew after that first meeting that I would have to commit myself to NA if I wanted to get what those people had. I would give it a bash and try to do the suggested things. I had nothing to lose.

  Chapter 14

  FACING THE TRUTH

  Even though the regime in the Rutland was demanding, it wasn’t all group therapy in the Centre. At weekends we would gather together in the television room for a game of charades. Other times we would have a sing-along in the kitchen as we belted on the pots and pans. There were yoga and dance classes, and when we were really bored we would have an egg-and-spoon race in the garden, which usually resulted in the neighbours complaining about the noise. I would have done anything for a laugh and to get away from the heightened emotion of the group.

  I had heard from somebody that my old counsellor Jimmy Judge was coming in to do a workshop with us. Shit, if anyone scared me, it was Jimmy Judge. He was the most gifted counsellor that I had ever come across. And when I was in his presence I felt completely transparent.

  The first time I met Jimmy I was only twelve years old. It was one year before I started on the heroin. My school class had been taken to the Youth Action Project in Ballymun for a drugs awareness day. I remember being struck by Jimmy’s tattoos. He had funny cartoon characters on both of his hands. One of them was of Daffy Duck. He was only a handful of a man, standing at around five foot five. He showed my class a video about the effects of drugs and the damage that they did, but I took very little notice. None of it applied to me as far as I was concerned, even though I was smoking hash, drinking alcohol, taking acid and dabbling with ecstasy. Being a junkie just wasn’t something that I aspired to be. So I didn’t have to listen. Maybe I should have listened.

  ‘I can only imagine what he has up his sleeve,’ I whispered to Jessica now. All the clients had filled the television room and we were sitting in a large circle.

  ‘Right, so, we’ll get started, will we?’ Jimmy said enthusiastically, doing a little jump. ‘Ok, everyone on your feet. Now, I want you to give every part of your body a good shake. Do a little dance if you want. C’mon, don’t be afraid to shake it all out.’ We all did as Jimmy said and I felt like a right eegit.

  ‘Now, open your mouth as wide as you can and scream, but without making any noise...’

  ‘What did I tell you,’ I whispered to Jessica.

  ‘Now you can sit down. I want you to pick two animals. One that represents your addiction and one that represents your recovery. Have you got that?’

  Everyone nodded and Jimmy continued, ‘Now, I want you to stand up here, one by one and act out your animal.’

  No fucking way was I going to do that, I thought. I had an image to uphold here.

  Everyone was moaning and groaning. ‘Ah c’mon, it’s only a bit of fun. Who’ll go first? What’s your name?’ he said pointing to Michael, one of the clients.

  ‘Emm, Michael, but I’m not doing it. I’m only new here myself.’

  ‘Ahm, you might do it later on. What’s your name?’ he pointed to Timmy.

  ‘I’m Timmy.’

  ‘Good man, Timmy, you’ll go first, won’t you?’ I was surprised that Timmy agreed. But he had said that he would make more of an effort.

  They were like Little and Large standing there together: Timmy towering over Jimmy. ‘Right, Timmy, what animal did you pick for your addiction?’ Jimmy said cheerfully.

  Timmy didn’t know what to be doing with himself. ‘I picked a gorilla.’

  ‘Alright, so do a gorilla.’

  Timmy was puce in the face now and he couldn’t stop laughing. Jimmy laughed along with him. ‘It’s ok, go on.’ Then Timmy put his fist to his chest and he start pounding it and making noises as though he were King Kong. Everyone thought that this was hilarious at first but then Timmy suddenly stopped laughing and a strange look came over his face. He began to thump himself harder and harder and his voice had changed. He was screaming now. I had never in my life heard such a noise. Nobody was laughing any more. I noticed that Jessica was nearly sitting on top of me, with a firm grip on my arm.

  But Jimmy was only getting started. ‘Hi, Rachae
l,’ he addressed me. ‘Do you want to do it?’

  ‘No, you’re alright, Jimmy. I’m not doing it.’

  ‘Ah c’mon, you know it’ll do you the world of good!’ He reached out his hand for me to take. ‘Don’t be afraid. I’ll even do it with you.’

  He was putting me on the spot and I couldn’t say no. ‘What animal did you pick for your addiction?’

  I noticed that Jimmy had a lovely light in his eyes. ‘A lion.’

  ‘Why did you pick a lion?’

  ‘Because it’s fierce and powerful. That’s how my addiction feels.’

  ‘Very good. So what does a lion do?’

  I was so conscious of everyone staring at me. ‘Ah, I’m not doing it, Jimmy.’

  ‘C’mon, we’ll do it together.’ Jimmy got down on his hands and knees. So I copied him. ‘Rarr,’ Jimmy growled, urging me to do the same.

  ‘Rarr,’ I growled back. Then Jimmy began to chase me around the room on all fours. I was trying my best to laugh it off, but I just couldn’t seem to hold myself together. I was so embarrassed that I began to cry. I had no idea why, but my mother had suddenly come into my head. Jimmy took me by the hands and he picked me up off the ground. Then he put his face right up to mine and he blocked the room out with his hands. He was way too close for comfort and now I was seriously freaked out.

  ‘Forget about everyone in the room. Why did you start to cry?’

  ‘I was mortified and then I just thought of my ma.’

  ‘How do you feel about your ma?’

  ‘I feel that she doesn’t love me and I don’t know why. I’m angry with her.’

  ‘I want you now to go around each and every person in this room and speak to them as if they’re your ma. Tell her how angry you are.’

  ‘I can’t, Jimmy.’

  ‘Try, Rachael.’

 

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