Patient: James Thomas Jordan, 22 years old
Date: September 23, 2013
Status: 1st stay at New Life Recovery (voluntary)
Comments shared at first group thereapy session: “Hello, my name is James Thomas Jordan and apparently I am a drug addict, although I don’t really feel like I am. And I know I look like some over-privileged country club kid, and that’s basically because I am, and I also have three first names so if anyone wants to trade a last name for one of mine just let me know. I can throw in a pack of smokes if you have a good one.
“Anyway, I’m here because I have fucked up a bit lately, not taking life after college seriously enough, I guess. I partied pretty hard at UCLA but still graduated with a 3.9 GPA and a dual major in Business and Marketing Management. I had no problem finding a great job with a big consulting firm after I got my degree, but I had a hard time setting some old habits aside. When my first annual review came up they put me on a ‘performance improvement plan’ and I kind of hated my boss after that. About two months later they let me go and I got a bit too loose for a while after that, a little too much drinking and way too much blow.
“I crashed my dad’s Range Rover into a telephone pole a few blocks from the house but left the scene before the cops arrived so I didn’t face any charges. My dad claimed that he was driving it that night. He took the heat for me but insisted that I check myself in here for 30 days or find a new place to live. So here I am. I just want to do my 30 days and get out so I can find a new job and a place to live with my girlfriend Sandy and just get my life back on track. I feel like this was a wake-up call that I have probably needed for a while and I honestly have no intention of going any further down the wrong road. Thanks for letting me share.”
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Patient: James Thomas Jordan, 22 years old
Date: January 9, 2014
Status: 2nd stay at New Life Recovery (voluntary)
Comments shared at first group thereapy session: “Hello, my name is James Thomas Jordan and I am a drug addict, but trying hard not to be. I see a few familiar faces here so I know some of you already know me. I spent 30 days here last Fall and I was released in October. Went back home and started looking for work, and I had a bunch of interviews but no job offers before the holidays. A lot of my old friends were back in town for Christmas then and we got up to our old ways pretty fast. My friend Derek who now lives down in San Diego turned me on to crystal meth for the first time and it just about blew the top of my head off. I was really trying to stay clean but I figured I could let loose for a week or two and then get back on track.
“Well, on New Year’s Eve me and some of my friends went back to UCLA for a big party that our fraternity hosts every year and we went pretty hard that night. Me and Derek and his friend Jake were smoking some crystal in one of the bedrooms upstairs for a while and when I came back downstairs I saw some kid hitting on my girlfriend Sandy. It probably wouldn’t have bothered me so much if she didn’t seem to be enjoying it, and when he leaned in real close to whisper something in her ear and he put his hand on her lower back I just lost it and went after him.
“Turns out that this kid was an NCAA Division One wrestling champion. A few minutes later I had a broken arm, which is why I have this here cast, a few broken ribs, a cracked sternum and all these cuts and bruises on my face. If you learn one thing from my experience, don’t ever fight a guy with cauliflower ears. Anyway, when my parents picked me up at the ER the next morning they gave me the same ultimatum as last time. Rehab or the street. So now I’m back here and trying to take it all a lot more seriously. This has to be my last stay and I have to get my life back on track because I know I have a bright future ahead. Thanks for letting me share.”
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Patient: James Thomas Jordan, 25 years old
Date: March 17, 2015
Status: 3rd stay at New Life Recovery (court-mandated)
Comments shared at first group therapy session: “Hello, my name is James and I’m an addict. I never used to believe this but I guess I do now. I’ve never been locked up before but I came here straight from LA County Jail after the judge gave me this option or nine months back in County with a whole bunch of scary-looking motherfuckers. I’ve done the voluntary 30-day program here twice before – the staff members all know me, I think – but now I am here to stay until my case worker says otherwise. Not sure how long that will be.
“So…when I left here last February I really did get my shit together for a while. I got a good job pretty much right away and I was entirely focused on that for almost a year, but then the holidays came around and I had some time off and some old friends were back in town and before I knew it I was snorting crushed Oxy and floating. Just floating on a euphoric wave that I never felt before. I was always into stimulant-type drugs previously – coke, meth, molly – but I hadn’t touched any of that shit since my last stay here, and trust me I had plenty of opportunities. But when my friend Derek convinced me to swallow half of a 30mg Oxy tablet when we were hanging out and drinking a few beers downstairs while shooting pool at his parent’s house on Christmas Eve I felt a sense of warmth and comfort that I never felt before. It was just…perfect. There’s no other way to describe it.
“We hung out again a few days later and Derek told me how snorting the crushed pills hits so much harder and faster and after I watched him do it I had to try it for myself. He was right. Holy shit, I thought blow jobs were good but this was something else. Sorry. Pardon my vulgarity. I’m just sayin’. Anyway, Derek had moved back LA by then and we started hanging out on a daily basis again, always with the Oxy. I brought my girlfriend Sandy around too and she started getting into it as well. Then one night a couple weeks ago I guess I went overboard and ended up in cardiac arrest, which would have been bad enough if I wasn’t also driving at the time. I crashed into a parked car at a fairly low speed, bur Sandy still broke her nose and her left wrist. The EMTs brought me back with some NarCan in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Then I went before the judge and my attorney negotiated treatment rather than a jail sentence and that’s how I ended up here, hopefully for the last time. Thanks for listening, everyone.
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Patient: James Thomas Jordan, 25 years old
Date: December 7, 2015
Status: 1st stay at LA County Recovery Clinic (court-mandated)
Comments shared at first group therapy session: “Hello, my name is James and I’m an addict. I’m new here but I’ve been to a private rehab center three time before. My parents are done with paying for that shit though so now I’m here. The food’s not as good but who cares? I don’t think any of us are all that hungry anyway. I used to think that this would all be behind me by now but I really fucked up this last time. I just finished a mandatory 60-day program back in May and when I got out on work-release for the next 30-days I reconnected with my girlfriend Sandy. I stayed clean for a while but Sandy was deep into the Oxy at that point, and before long I was back on it with her.
“When we were both working and making good money and only really getting high on the weekends, for the most part, the cost of drugs was never an issue. But now that we were both only semi-employed and making shit money and getting high every day, cash became a problem pretty fast. But when you’re sick, you’re sick, and all you want is to feel better. I didn’t push her into it but I didn’t object too much either when Sandy started tricking for dope money. I remember that first night, after I got fixed up, I just went into my bedroom and buried my face in a pillow and screamed until I was out of breath. I tried not to look at myself in the mirror too often after that.
“Anyway, I got popped by an undercover narcotics cop – dude looked like he was homeless, I didn’t even believe it at first - about a month ago when I was trying to score some pills downtown near Skid Row. And then I was back in court and now I’m here, lucky I didn’t get a year in County. I guess the jails are already full cuz' I can't believe they didn't send me up this time. Anyway, thanks for listening.”
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Patient: James Thomas Jordan, 26 years old
Date: August 15, 2016
Status: 2nd stay at LA County Recovery Clinic (court-mandated)
Comments shared at first group therapy session: “Hello, my name is Jimmy, they mostly call me Slim Jim on the streets, and I’m a motherfuckin’ addict. I’ve been down here once before and I recognize some of you but you might not recognize me. I lost like 15 pounds since then and I had kind’a long hair last time I was in but I shaved my head a few months ago. I also got this nasty cut on the side of my chin when some low-bottom junkie came at me with a box-cutter when I was trying to score some pills up on Hollywood and Vine. Fucking scumbag almost took off this ear. It took 22 stitches to save it but it’s still a mess, right? Shit. I also got these tattoos here on my face the day after my girlfriend Sandra OD’d. I don’t know why. I think I felt the need to inflict something on myself, like I ain’t already been doing that for years now.
“Anyways, me and Sandy were deep into the Oxy – like 7 or 8 pills a day for each of us – but that shit just kept going up and up in price. They was twenty bucks a pop when we started, which was bad enough, but they were twice that a few years later. I’m sure y’all know. Anyways, I always said I would never use IV drugs – I always been scared of catching AIDS from a needle – and that was a line I didn’t want to cross, but me and Sandy crossed right over it when we couldn’t afford the pills no more. Man, things really fell apart fast after that.
“Sandy was a beautiful girl when we first met, but she was looking pretty rough and strung out once we got on the dope and she wasn’t able to bring in the dollars tricking no more, so we had to resort to other things. Mostly small-time shit. You know, shoplifting, purse snatching, breaking into cars and sometimes houses, and of course begging for hand-outs on the streets everywhere we went, all day long. Then I came home with some food from the homeless outreach tent on Slauson one night and Sandy was all stiff on the couch with a needle still in her arm. I cried for a while but then I shot up and went to sleep and just left her there on the couch for a few days. When it started to smell I finally called 911. I tried to say that I had just arrived at the apartment (we were squatting in some vacant shithole at the time) and found her like that but they took me in anyway, and now I’m here again. I can’t believe I’m not doing time right now but I guess they didn’t really have a charge that could stick. More likely they just didn’t give a fuck about another dead junkie. Anyways, thanks for listening.”
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Patient: James Thomas Jordan, 27 years old
Date: March 4, 2017
Status: 3rd stay at LA County Recovery Clinic (court-mandated)
Comments shared at first group therapy session: “Hey yo, what’s up. I’m Slim and I’m a junkie. I’ve been here twice before but most of you probably don’t even recognize me. I get it. I finished up the rest of my face tattoos last time I got out. You probably also noticed these nasty scars all over this side of my face and my missing left ear, right? That’s a fucked up story, let me tell you.
“I had no cash at all and I was getting more dopesick than I ever been, so this dude I was running with named Charlie told me he knew a house in Silver Lake where no one was home - some friends of his parents or some shit - and we could steal some valuables to pawn off or just trade straight-up for dope. We went there that night and watched the house from some bushes in the backyard for like twenty minutes. It definitely seemed empty and I wanted to go in but Charlie pussied out on me at the last minute. He was a young kid and he wasn’t nearly hooked like me. He didn’t want to get arrested. I only cared about getting fixed up.
“Anyway, after Charlie left I got a window open and went into the house by myself. Charlie was right. The owners weren’t there that night, but their big-ass fucking Rottweiler was. As soon as I got into the hallway this hell hound came charging at me and ripped up my face and tore off my ear and the two fingers missing on this hand and I’m sure he would'a killed me but I got lucky and fell backwards into one of the upstairs bedrooms and kicked the door shut just before fucking Cujo could come at me again. I was trapped in there and bleeding bad with no way to get out so I had to use the phone on the nightstand to call 911 and get someone to come rescue me. Anyways, I ended up in the hospital that night, which is where they patched me up and told me I just tested positive for Hep-C, and after that they sent me to the detox unit.
“So, now I can’t avoid jail any longer. I’m here until they say I’m ready to go, then I got a 30-month sentence in Chino waiting for me. I don’t know if I even give a fuck anymore. I know I aint coming back here though. I might have one more binge left in me but I don’t have one more recovery. I’m just too tired of this shit. There’s nothing left for me anyway. Sorry for being grim. Thanks for listening to my bullshit.”
THE END
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11 comments
I have worked in recovery centers. This sounds eerily authentic. Great job, Tom.
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Thanks, Trudy. Fortunately, I am not writing from personal experience here but I have had some friends and family members who have been down that horrific road. Not a very happy story, I know, but I thought it fit the prompt. As always, thanks for reading!
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As always, anytime.
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This is truly brilliant. Great writing, great pace and absolutely dripping with that terrible sense of finality.
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Thank you so much, Rebecca. I sincerely appreciate your time and compliments.
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Hard story to read, but so well written and truthful. He’d gone too far and there really was no hope. More things destroyed than appearance. The amount of work and care to “fix” the addiction would take years.
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Thanks, Helen. I appreciate your kudos. Sadly, I think there are some people in this world who simply cannot be helped.
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Hard-hitting and strikingly good. The slippery slope which had me thinking of certain people I know, one young man in particular. Not close to me personally but yeah...
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Thanks so much, Carol. I once saw a chronological series of approx 15 booking photos of this guy who became a hardcore meth addict over a span of about 5-6 years up in Portland or Seattle. In the first photo he's probably about 18 years old and looks like a model/athlete. As you go through the photos you could see his appearance gradually changing and by the last photo he is covered with facial tattoos and scars, rotted teeth, chapped lips, shaved head. I had the idea for a story like this since then.
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🤯
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I was inspired to write a real feel-good story this week.
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