There I was in a hospital room handcuffed to the bed with two officers at the entrance of my room, one on each side, undergoing detox before being taken to the station. You would have thought I was a serious criminal the way they stood there. As if I was going to run away or something, I had no intent of going anywhere. I was chilling. Kind of lonely as no one was allowed in, except for nurses and doctors. And let me tell you they weren’t that nice. But, what it is what it is.
I understood them not caring for my presence. After all in their eyes, I put myself there. Drug-related with two officers at my door, so given the circumstances and ‘how it looked’ from outside… how could I expect anything different? So, it didn’t matter my story, my circumstances or what got me there. I was there, I was undergoing detox and that’s all that mattered. It was enough to be seen as scum in their eyes. It didn’t matter whether or not I belonged, or whether or not I wanted out. I was there in that given situation and that was enough to past judgment and form a conclusion.
It was a horrible feeling… I felt like shit, and it wasn’t because of the drugs. It was because of the whole situation, the fact that it went this far and I didn’t stop it sooner. I let myself down and most importantly I let my family down, which hurt the most.
The whole situation was terrible, being there all alone; when the one thing I needed in that moment was comfort, the reassurance that everything was going to be okay. And in that moment, I was officially coming to terms with just how shattered I really was, how lost, scared and confused I really was. And as much as I didn’t want to feel the hurt and the pain I caused, not only for myself, but my loved ones. I wanted to feel… I embraced it, I hadn’t felt in so long. And, it didn’t matter if it was good or bad, I was feeling… it was incredible, yet so heart wrecking.
And in a strange way, I was relieved. Everything was over and now it was just a matter of dealing with the consequences.