Friday morning i woke up in a cloud of confusion. I vaguely had a sense that i had voluntarily admitted myself into rehab, and this thought settled upon my mind and cleared the temporary fuzz which blinded me from reason. Aching and sweating i groaned and let my legs dangle down the side of the bed. This was the first morning in which i had woken up totally alone in a single bed, for a long time. There was no brown powder to soothe my morning pains, just the brash aggressive sunlight which had entered through the half broken blinds. I got up and wrapped myself with the cashmere pashmina i had turned into a rug, i opened the door and let it slam shut behind me. First call was the bathroom where i inspected myself in the mirror. Same face still staring back at me, same blank expression and empty eyes. They say that the eyes are the window into the soul, well my soul must have been like the core of a rotten apple..empty and decaying! Same fake blonde hair, dark roots and sunken expressionless face. I struggled to smile at myself and then decided i would brush my teeth after the compulsory first cigarette. I stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen where i inspected the time. How could it be 5 in the morning? And i have already slept and woken up! i smiled to myself as it had been a long time since i had managed to sleep in the night, especially as i had not had any heroin to ease me into unconsciousness. I put the kettle on and waited for the water to boil. I wanted something warm to enter my body and melt the block of ice that had settled upon the upper half of my body. A shiver ran down my spine and i gagged from the cigarette. After i managed to make the tea, i sat myself down in the living room and just stared into space, i was preoccupied with the emptyness in my mind. A mild sadness settled over me and i disconnected from the thoughts straight away focusing instead on my body. I had become an expert at detachment. I was one person and my feelings were something completly outside of me, something unknown and frankly much unwanted. I would happily take the happiness and the highs of life, but the lows were not for me! As i thought to myself Donna came downstairs, fag in hand in a white dressing gown.
"Morning!" She seemed surprised to see me awake so early. I was happy there was someone i could distract myself from myself with, by talking mindless nonsense. The conversation was very basic but the facts i managed to obtain out of her were that i had to be in a reasonable state by about quarter to nine as we had to walk down to the centre where i could obtain more medication. She then turned the tv on for me and left me with nothing by my aura and the noise of the TV in the background. My mind began to wonder. I began to remember the oily brown substance as it ran down the foil aided by my lighter and the fumes which warmed my body and my mind as i inhaled them. I pulled hard on my cigarette but nothing like the same feeling was returned. My leggs had begun to jig up and down like they had a life of their own and my stomach to cramp. I sipped on the hot tea and coughed until i started to wretch. Running up the stairs i got to the toilet bowl in time to cough up some sort of bile substance and then after wiping my mouth i waked back into my bedroom and put the covers over my fragile body. It was only then that i noticed the duvet was soaking wet and it only made me feel colder. I turned it over and wrapped myself in it putting my ipod on and letting the darkness warm me. The sun was already out in the sky and the clear blue that presented itself did inspire some confidence within me. After an hour of listening to the same bass lines wrapping themselves around me i once again convinced myself to get out of bed and attempt having a shower. My sweat was no normal sweat but it was toxic and smelt stale. Even my palms were covered in what i had accustomed myself to calling 'the withdrawal smell'. I crawled into the bathroom with my back hunched and my head dizzy. I closed all the windows to avoid the inevitable cold after the shower situation which always left me pissed off for even having attempted the shower. I was not to wash my hair, that even for me was too an adventurous expectation. I stood there, cold inside with the hot water pouring down my back and warming my goose-bump skin to normality. Scorching hot i stepped out of the shower and brushed my teeth. Now all that was left was finding some suitable attire and getting downstairs where i could enjoy a cigarette in peace and quiet. I dressed quickly, throwing clothes on the floor as i went through the small selection i had brought with me. I found a suitable dress and a cardigan to go over it, as experience taught me that i would probably be cold even if the sun was out and it was the middle of summer. I then took my place back downstairs and made myself another cup of tea and a cigarette to go with it. As time slowly dragged past i was eventually awakened from my open-eyed state of somnambulism by Donna who announced it was time we make a move on. I grabbed my fags and my ipod and i was ready for the march down to the centre. As we walked i had more of a chance to take in the surroundings. It just seemed ironic that i would be in rehab and yet the street that our sober house was placed on contained the highest concentration of drug addicts and dealers within a 20 mile radius. i tried to keep up with the girls and inspected the floor through my dark sunglasses. There was enough evidence that the people in these streets liked to party, that was for sure. If only i could join them. I began to fantasize to myself ways of getting out the sober house and perhaps meeting up with some new found friends, what an adventure that would be!? I smiled to myself as i thought of this and i fixed my gaze on a bloke hanging out of a window. Music emanated loudly and he seemed to have that glow in his eye, that naughty perspective. He smiled at me, a delayed half smile which indicated he was high on some sort of downer. I would happily have swapped places with him at that moment in time, or even i would have liked to be in his arms feeling the same lazy high on a friday morning knowing that there were two more days ahead of us when it was seen as acceptable by society to mope around in a permanent haze! My train of thought was interrupted.
'Ana!" Donna shouted after me, i had begun to slow down and gaze up at the bloke at the window. I hurried along and drove away the thoughts that had entered my mind. We entered the gates of the centre and i looked around at the other patients who were sitting around outside having a cigarette and looking quite glum. My mood had lifted as i knew i was about to be administered my medication, i ran upstairs and joined the queue for drugs. The south african guy was there and he as joined by a larger guy wearing some sort of hiking boots. I was invited into their office and sat down on the chair.
"You guys forgot my medication at six a clock last night. I had to drag myself to the meeting without it. Luckily i convinced the medication guy to give me the dfs later."
"So you did get your codeine in the end then?" ONe of them asked.
"Yeh, just cos i made sure i did. Anyway enough chatting and more doing please, i'm in pain here. I am due something like 4 britlofex and two valiums so hand them over, i have a cigarette to smoke!" I asserted my authority and then smiled sweetly. I could not be bothered with any bullshit but i also wanted the relationship i had with these medication givers, or dealers, to remain a reasonably good one. After all they were in charge of my medication and therefore of my life. After i had ingested the multicolored pills i made my way down the corridor and into the room where group took place. I had somehow landed in a place where standing in a circle and holding hands would soon become the highlight of my day, at this moment in time however it was the last thing i wanted to do. I sat down amidst my peers and gave a disturbing 'do not disturb me' look. I was soon left alone within the fragile layers of my mind. Before i could begin reflecting i had entered some sort of twilight zone in between sleep and consciousness. The medication had warmed my body and slowed my mind down. I was feeling like a prisoner, trapped within the confines of my mind and dragging around my ankle the painful steel ball of withdrawal. I was rudely awoken and brought back to reality which unfortunately for me had not changed as i was still in the same chair in the same claustrophobic confines of the group room. Despite the day continuing in a normal fashion i seemed to be in an alternate world of my own. I walked past the blurred realities all around me and helped myself to a cup of tea and a biscuit and lit a cigarette with my spare hand. How simple pleasures satisfied me so intensely, if only for a brief moment of time. I had become very aware of my sunglasses and their magical ability at rendering me invisible if albeit for a temporary amount of time. Still they helped and i seemed to have them glued to my eyes. The world seemed easier to understand through my dim, dark perspective. I say understand but the reality was that with my view of the world i found it easier to misunderstand than to bother with any real grasp of myself or others. I viewed myself as an island, an individual separated from the rest of humanity and what i could not understand was why the fuck the rest of humanity seemed to be throwing stones into my perfectly created habitat. My solution? set the island adrift into the sea of sociality and hope that i bump into none other than my own, and by that i mean other isolated masses of sand where their single inhabitants lived happily and perhaps ventured a knowing wave to one another which would simply signify their acknowledgement of you and them and the connecting albeit invisible fabric between you: detachment. Yet here i was, in a place where all the islanders had been gathered together and forced to spend time within the proximity of others like them. The only thing that i didn't understand was why i had been lumbered with these people when the reality, as i saw it, was that we had little to nothing in common. How could these people understand the way i thought? I could hardly understand the way my mind seemed to able down dark dangerous corridors without even bothering to warn me of where it was headed. I certainly did not enjoy visiting the dark nooks in my mind alone, let alone take these people, these addicts with me on a personalized tour of my innermost self. I yawned at this concept and listened to the small talk being made outside, in the carpark of the rehabilitation centre, where it seemed the smokers could relax and reflect on the simple joys of life over a shared cigarette. The conversation was focused on weather and people. "Simple people relate over people whilst complex people revel in ideas." i remember thinking to myself before deciding that i would benefit more from letting my mind wonder into my subconscious, and by that i mean that i just wanted to pass out and forget about where i was and what i had become. Back to blackness!
I opened my eyelashes at the sound of my voice. Somehow time had elapsed and it was after lunch. Someone somewhere had announced that it was time i grab my medication. All i heard was medication and awoke from my vertical position and stood to attention. Dizzy with delight at the thought of more mind numbing substances i climbed up the stairs, which felt more like a mountain and announced my presence in the office upstairs. Jeff, the south african, smiled at me and handed me my medication. I was in a better mood and managed to flirt somewhat as i swallowed the tablets, this time with water. I was somewhat elated to have found out that i had gone up in medication and therefore in my eyes in the world. I was surprisingly feeling quite comfortable within the realms of my own body and i was very aware of this as i climbed down the stairs and into the open space in which lunch was served. I ordered something small and unsubstantial, after all i had no intention of putting on weight whilst in this strange place. Instead i opted for a cigarette and waited for my food to be prepared. After a few mouthfuls of what tasted like bland warm mush covered in chilly sauce i threw the remainder away and washed it down with a glass of water. My kidneys were beginning to throw in my lower back and i was feeling dizzy and disturbed so i clomped off to slumber on the sofa in the corner of the room, armed with my sunglasses i let myself slip off into a much more pleasant world, that blank, peaceful state of sleep.
Between dark abysses of sleep and clouded moments of reality the day seemed to have melted away into the evening. The girls insisted that we venture into town to top up on some food and i was more than happy to follow them around like a lost and confused puppy. I could hardly understand why they were getting annoyed at my impulsive outbursts towards certain shops and i could hardly contain myself from wanting to go into clothes shops, after all that was what i had become accustomed to. I had been assigned a peer to keep an eye. Luckily he was of the male species and i could speak to him more directly than with the females. "Stay with me as i can't help but wanna steal" i informed him without any thought of him judging me. The facts were that i had become used to stealing anything out of anywhere and the fact that i was in rehab was hardly going to stop me. At least if he knew there was little i could do about it. I packed my basket with fruit and other nourishing foods, knowing in my mind that i craved chocolate and i had only been eating junk food for the past three months. Well minus the meals that my latest rich play toy had taken me on, they had been quite lovely. I had retracted into my self again like a snail into its shell and i began remembering my life outside of the treatment centre. Sleepless nights filled with white satin powder and booming bass which made my skin tremble and my ears bleed with pleasure. Now i was standing in a queue in tescos, buying fruit and wearing an adidas tracksuit. How things can change! we paid for the items i had chosen and then headed back towards the sober house. I have a vague recollection of having a cigarette with the boys and attempting to make some sort of conversation but my lucidity and my mind were elsewhere and again i was beginning to feel drugged and dozy so i floated up the stairs and into the single bed that i had been given as my own. I looked around the room at the dreary gray carpets and the empty peeling walls. The blinds that i had been given did a better job of letting the light into the room than keeping it out, and i now noticed that i had no mirror in the room. How was i expected to make sure i looked presentable without even a working mirror! I thought to myself as i lay down on the bed and let the springs support my limp and aching body.
"Ana, it's time to go!" Donna's voice boomed down my auditory canal and bounced within my mind. Annoyed at having had my bubble of darkness and comfort poked and burst by the vibrations of her voice, i let my legs dangle down the side of my bed and then got up in a less than fluid movement. My body still seemed like a foreign country in which i had taken temporary residence and could hardly find my bearings. I went to brush my teeth and wash my face before putting on a dress and taking a jumper for the walk back and in case i began getting the 'withdrawal shivers' crawling like super fast ants down my spine. i quickly sprayed some perfume on and walked down the stairs to meet with the girls and the boys who were sitting in the living quaters of the house. I say living quaters but i refer to a room with two leather sofas, a white table ikea table in the centre and a large bay window to the side of which was an ancient TV and a few DVD players stacked on top of each other. The joys of advancements in technology, i thought to myself as i sat down amongs my peers and lit a cigarette. The room had gone quiet. The way it does when an intruder has penetrated through the thin fabric of intimacy of a close group of friends. "Fear not for i come in peace!" I thought to myself but instead voiced the more socially acceptable: 'So, we are expected to go to a meeting everyday?' I displayed a look of disgust as i let this question float out of my mouth along with a cloud of smoke. "There are meetings everyday apart from on wednesdays" the skin head who had walked around the shops with me informed me. 'What happens on wednesdays?". "It's study night!" Donna had entered the room and stood on the table so she could view her features in the mirror hanging on one of the walls in the room. So there we were, a newly formed 5-some. Sean and Alex the two muscle bulked men with skinheads looking like indian patch quilts with their tattoos. Sean sporting a somewhat London outskirtish accent and blue eyes which matched his blue t-shirt. He joked and hit Alex's torse for approval. They both laughed together at some joke or other which i had missed as i was closely inspecting my new companions and trying to work them out somehow. Shikira was the chocolate skinned other youth in this group of society's mishaps. Her velvety smooth skin was flawed by few hardly perceivable imperfections and her mouth revealed perfectly pearly white teeth. Her short straw like hair was tucked under a cap and she sported a crutch in one arm to support herself.
"What have you done to your leg?" I ventured to ask and interrupt the tranquil scene that had built around me. "Have you only just noticed?" Alex pointed out my lack of perception. The truth was that i had been too preoccupied with myself and my own existence and thoughts to converse and fully engage in any form of meaningful conversation, let alone small talk. "I got pissed and fell from a third story balcony" she informed me quite abruptly. i tried to place myself in a state of empathy but i had a feeling that my acting skills had also been diminished without the use of drugs. I could not even muster that noise that people make when trying to show someone they identify with their pain or their shame. the 'aww' noise, the poor you insinuation behind it. I simply could not do it. Luckily it didn't seem too strange to these people that i simply nodded and then retracted in my own thoughts again. It was now time for us to amble down to the meeting. "You're going to like tonight's meeting Ana, its at the Hat Factory and it's a CA meeting" Alex said as we were walking down the steep stairs of 30 napier road, the girls sober house. "what does CA stand for?" I walked along side him and enjoyed the warmth of the early evening. "Cocaine anonymous" He answered me. The conversation topics changed from things to people and back to things and then to people. I waked along them and like a sponge soaked the information like it was water and let it stay within the creases of my mind before squeezing it out without it affecting me or me it in any way. We walked as a group down unknown streets and i took advantage of this time to ask some more about the rules and express my outraged opinion towards most of them. I made a mental post it note to relate this outrage to the councillors as something had to be done. After a quick pause by one of the shops where everyone entered to buy something useless like a sugar filled drink or some sort of sugar stimulant, including myself, we walked on outside what seemed like the train station. Well if i need to run away at least i know where the nearest train station is. I thought to myself as i lit a cigarette. I was warmly hugged by Grant, the figure i had spoken to the night before and a few other blokes. This was alright after all. I thought to myself as i engaged in conversation with Grant over my thoughts of rehab. Yeah i was pretty cynical but i was going to give it a go. i told him and attempted to understand his thick scottish slur. How i love a man with an accent! I thought to myself but before i had a chance to converse any further i was removed from the situation by my housemates who informed me it was time to go upstairs into this so called hat-factory and endure an hour long meeting. I entered the lift with the rest of the people and upon arriving on the third floor followed the crowd out the lift and into what looked freakishly similar to a recording studio. The walls were covered in graffiti planks of dark wood. The almost cliched yellow smily face with the three eyes and various other colors adorned the room and gave it an instantly likable and comfortable quality. The chairs were set out towards the front where there stood a table with two people behind it. After everyone had made themselves comfortable and helped themselves with tea and biscuits, the murmur of voices had dimmed down to a profuse silence and the lights were dimmed. This was a much better atmosphere and i could tell i was going to enjoy this meeting much more than the previous one i had attended. I made myself comfortable and put my legs up on the chairs in front and enjoyed the darkness as it made me feel like another number in the crowd, another name in a pile of nameless subjects. The sound waves coming out of the mouth of the speaker initially awoke within my mind some sort of interest and made me giggle but unfortunately after the combination of chemically released endorphins into my brain from the inappropriate and unrepressed laughter, the warmth of the stuffy room and the comforting blanket of darkness i was lulled into sleep. My head began doing the up down dance it used to do when i would be high on drugs. It would slowly lean itself forwards as the muscles in the back of my neck began to relax and when reaching a certain point would free fall so quickly that it would awaken me temporarily and i would ensure the muscles held my head back in a reasonable position. I became annoyed with this repeated process and so rested my head on my hand to avoid my neighbors disturbing me from my napping or me disturbing them from listening to the speaker. All i wanted was to be undisturbed whilst being disturbing. I was flicked out of the elastic band within the realms of my unconscious and back into my body by my neighbor. 'Ouwch!" i groaned and observed that the lights were about to be undimmed. I giggled to myself at the thought that it was friday night and of all places in the world i was stuck in Luton and what a change this made to the festival i had been attending the previous weekend. I got up and followed my peers out of the door, into the elevator and out of the door. I have a vague memory of engaging in some sort of conversation with some people from my centre however the context of which eludes me for the waters of my mind were murky with sleep and withdrawal. I could hardly contain my desire to get home and settle down in the comfort of the springy single bed and the synthetic duvet with its brand new and stiff covers. As Shikira hobbled up the stairs and placed the key in the door i wished that the boys were not coming in but i kept these thoughts to myself. impatient to get into the house i lit a cigarette and took my place on the sofa. I took my headphones out of my ears and listened to the conversation.
"So if we buy everything tomorrow after the centre we can have this barbeque in the afternoon" one of the tattoo twins was asserting his planning authority. "I think the weather is going to be good as well" Chirpped in Donna.
"Whats going on tomorrow?" I caught on to the drawstring of conversation and let myself be dragged along by the rest of the group. "were having a barbeque"
"that much is apparent, where?with who?" I cynically inspected their faces as they searched for answers that would be sufficient for me. "Its at our house." Alex responded first. "we have a garden and everything. so we can have a barbeque at the back."
"Alex is a chef you know. so he will be cooking the food for us tomorrow" someone else had chirped in. I voiced some sort of half interested remark at this new piece of information and then excused myself to go and change with the parting words 'i just hope it doesn't rain. i hate the weather in the country' and i walked up the stairs. It was almost time for my medication and the boys had deserted our sober house and a silence pervaded the building. It made the sound of the water streaming out of the tap all the more potent. I washed my face and inspected my reflection in the mirror. The same dissatisfied little girl started back. 'you can do this. you can get sober and you don't need drugs anymore' i told myself within the confines of my mind. A rather large linger of doubt still existed, especially as two weeks was hardly long enough to get over an addiction i had acquired over 5 years.
The following morning was a saturday. I awoke and sat up in bed, checking the time on my phone. Ironically it was the crack of dawn and i had no crack. With a pillow to help me rest up against the cold wall behind me i began to reflect yet again upon how low i had let myself slip. I lit a cigarette and let the smoke dance in the rays of the sun which entered through the broken blinds. i enjoyed the smell and taste of that first cigarette in the morning. I wished i was in my own king sized bed with my cloud like duck feather stuffed duvet cover and all of my possessions littered around me. I had transformed the bed in my Leeds abode into my sanctuary. A white net hung over it giving off the impression that one was protected and safe within the entralls of its cocoon, and sunken into the soft cotton wool like nature of my virginal white duvet cover i would have my laptop and various clothes. Being a loft room at the top of the house the slanted windows were covered like eyelids by perfectly fitting blings which allowed me to forget whether it was night or day and live in a limbo of my own making. The only light present in the room were the pink feathered fairy lights that i had adorned around my bed, to help me identify where i had placed my possessions, myself or my sanity. Unfortunately they never gave the desired results and only achieved the opposite. It was upon this bed that i enjoyed making love with my most loyal lover, heroin. Yet here i was, in a small single bed with a tracing paper duvet cover and blinds which let in the natural light so frivolously. I observed the empty walls around me and could not help but feel that this empty room was somehow more protrusive and invading with its emptiness. i stubbed out the cigarette and walked over to the window. My body seemed to be regaining some normality back into it. But that acrid smell of withdrawal seemed to be following me around like a plague. I opened the window to let some fresh air in and then made my way to have a shower. Somehow time had ticked a little faster this morning and i was relieved to know that i only had two more hours until my first medications of the morning were being delivered to the door of the sober house. I occupied those two hours by drinking numerous cups of tea and smoking cigarette after cigarette. With half an hour to burn i had decided that i was going to put my war pain on. I lined my eyes with a smoky black to make the dark brown of my pupils make even more of a contrast with my yellow-blonde hair. Then the hair went up, back brushed until it looked like an upturned bird's nest. I made sure my cheeks and cheek bones were highlighted and then applied a little bit of lipstick on. I was ready to take on whatever the world wanted to throw my way. Once i had the medication down me i was more than happy to follow my housemates to the morning meeting. Sitting around in a circle and attempting to meditate had never been my idea of fun. I tried closing my eyes and getting a healthy dose of peace instead only falling into a drug induced sleep and causing more disturbances to the meetings. Unaware that i was behaving like a little child run wild i stood outside and flirted with Grant quite openly. The sun was shining in the sky and here i was outside of a cemetery smiling and flicking my hair at this new Scottish acquaintance of mine. If rehab was not going to be fun then i would have to make my on enjoyment, and i quite liked the idea of flirting with this stranger. Both of us indirectly affirming to each other that we would, given the chance and considering the circumstances, sleep together. After the events of the morning i walked along with my group of addicts and alcoholics. One thing was becoming increasingly apparent and that was that Shikira and Sean (the taller of the tattoo twins) were definitely getting it on. I observed them flirting from a distance, it was definably the flirting of two people who were either actively pursuing the means to satisfy themselves or simply were as sexually frustrated as myself. I could identify with that as my genitalia seemed to be the only thing on my body that was not frozen but instead was craving some attention. As i thought about this i found myself outside in the carpark of the centre, smoking a cigarette and listening to the general banter of the group. It all seemed to be aimed towards the one person. I took little notice but soaked up the information like a sponge and saved in my brain, just in case i needed it for later usage.
The weekends were slightly more relaxed at the rehab centre. We came in at lunch time and only had four hours to endure. On this specific saturday it was a day at the park. i was quite elated to have learned this piece of information as i fancied lying out in the sun and getting a bit of a tan on my feta white skin. i was also granted a lift in the car of the South African councillor and we drove up and away from the concrete world into nature. It was a nice feeling having the warm breeze gently linger on my face, that is until the sun hid under a cloud and that same gentle breeze had turned into the very thing which caused every hair on my skin to pinprick to attention. I was told i was allowed to lie under a tree, and i did exactly that. At first i watched with beady eyes as the alpha males asserted their authority on the group by removing their t-shirts. I saw nothing appealing in the crowd, only hairy chests adorned with tattoos and the memory of once chiseled abs and six-packs, and soon fell into a world of my own dreams or rather a numb blankness which hurried time along. I have vague memories of the wind tickling my back and me reaching for someone's t-shirt to wrap myself in, blurred voices talked to me but i was too far away to hear even what the voices in my head were saying. I woke up as the group was gathered around me helping themselves to drinking water and rubbing their sweaty foreheads and backs. I could hardly believe that the hours had elapsed so quickly but was relieved and looking forwards to the barbecue that afternoon. The sun was high up in the sky and it was a very warm and pleasant day. I got up and allowed myself to get back into the overheated car and be driven back to the center. We had finished for the day and i felt a burst of energy within me. It was a Saturday after all and i wanted to have some fun. This burst of energy was further confirmed when Shikira announced that Grant and his friend were going to join us at the barbecue i could hardly believe my luck. At last i could flaunt my pear white skin in the sun and flirt with other heroin addicts whilst playing loud music. Memories of other similar events flooded my mind and i remembered the smell of meat cooking on the red hot stove and alcohol pouring freely. This time there would be no alcohol, only a bit of banter to amuse ourselves. Shikira, who seemed as keen as me in undressing and letting the sun get to her body suggested we put on bikinis and bring one of our CDs to ensure the music would be to our satisfaction. As we giggled and hopped up the hill i observed that actually i was feeling surprisingly good in the foreign realms of my body and calm within the edifices of my mind. The tattoo twins occupied themselves with purchasing all of the necessaries for the evening's entertainment whilst the girls returned home and washed and prepared ourselves for an afternoon of fun. I ensured that i applied yet more warpaint and made sure my hair was even messier than before. Black lined eyes and high cheekbones with a short dress and a pair of espadrilles on my feet and i was ready to party! I lit a cigarette and waited for the other two girls to get themselves ready. They both seemed to be dressed rather conservatively, although Shikira assured me that she had her bikini and would take off her top when the right moment came up. We walked down the hills of Luton towards the boys house. I had been informed already of the incident where Alex, the smaller of the tattoo twins, had discovered a baggie filled with weed right outside of his doorway. I had listened in disbelief as he told of how he had decided to hand it in to the center and wished that i had been there when he found it so some sense could be talked into the man. His story confirmed my developing theories that i had little to nothing in common with these people, all the more reason to socialize with Grant who, like me, understood what it meant to be a heroin addict. The torrid heat outside hardly matched with my freezing interior. I was beginning to melt like an ice lolly left out in the sun and my existence within the interior of my sweaty sticky skin was beginning to feel even more uncomfortable. The scene of perfect tranquility was penetrated by our loud voices as we entered the boys' terraced home. I inspected the furniture in the living room and then made my way through to the kitchen where various pans stood on stoves the contents of which did not inspire any interest within me and the meats that were being garnished with sauces ready to be grilled on the barbecue outside were even less appealing. I followed the smell of burning coal through a bedroom and out through the patio doors into the outside heat. I remember dwelling on the bizzare decission to have placed a bedroom right next to the kitchen, on the ground floor with double doors leading to this concrete outside. The boys were making an effort to make the concrete slabbed outside that they had for a garden appear more comforting. A table and chairs were brought out into the sun and a blanket was placed on the hot concrete slabs. The barbecue burned away in a corner and the smell of coal reminded me of times gone by. Instead of a suburban picket fence this house had a brick built frame around patio area, perhaps to indicate the exact length of the property. The bricked fence had a gap in it which was perhaps to serve as an entry point. I stood on the fence and inspected my surroundings from a higher viewpoint. Beyond the carefully measured and assigned patio of each perfectly identical house there was a car park, where the inhabitants of these urban hammocks could park their heaving metal, glass and rubber pods for the night. I could now, with the advantage of having half a meter added to my 1 and 62 centimeters, see that there was a spot of perfectly planned greenery in the form of a park. Even that park had been enclosed by a large concrete wall with barbed wire lovingly adorned like tinsel along a windowsill at Christmas. What i could not work out was whether the barbed wired barrier was meant to be keeping the deadly fumes and grime of the concrete world out of the park or stopping these chlorophyll life-forms from extending their branches into the ideally measured concrete mess we had become accustomed to calling our home? Whatever the answer was i did not have it and i chose instead to light a cigarette and think of more pressing matters such as Grant's arrival. I watched intently the tobacco turn to ash as i sucked the air out of the cancer stick i was medicating myself with. A murmur of conversation was coming from the open window of the kitchen which overlooked the patio. I stepped down from my position of heightened perception and sat myself down on the rug in the sun. If only my chicken-skinned legs could be burned by the sun in the same way the dead chicken flesh disguised as drumsticks were being cooked on the barbecue. Music blurted out of the CD player and i cynically listened to the words: 'call me Mr Flintstone i can make your bedrock' and thought of how another member of my generation like me chose to allude to something he had thought would gain him some respect among his peers. Ironically i only judged him and lost a little more respect in humanity as it was beyond me why this would be playing on the radio and people singing along to it. Before i had anymore time to reflect on this aspect of 21st century life Grant and his tall blonde companion whose name had eluded me walked into the cement garden of bliss that my peers had created. I sat up and removed my glasses so i could give them a better inspection with my information hungry eyes. The tattoo twins greeted them with the customary man-shake which probably was a way of establishing who was to assume the alpha male role out of the group of men present in the situation. It was easily the taller of the tat-twins, Sean. I concluded, after all he seemed to be the most confident male with the biggest muscles. I panned the scene with my eyes hidden behind dark shaded sunglasses, Grant's eyes had already explored me, i felt the whole six inches of my dress be measured by his ebony pupils. I lay myself down and pretended to be oblivious to my surroundings and the people in it. To add a dash of mystery to my demeanor i also blocked my ears with my headphones so as to overhear the conversation without having my thoughts escape from my ears as easily as words sometimes did from my mouth. The banal conversation droned on and i chose to actually block my ears from the noise and enjoy the sun. Within moments i was crossing the abyss between the world of reality and that of toxic sleep the only thing slowing me down was the arid heat that hung in the air all around me like a cloud of smoke. I got up, dizzy with dehydration and confusion, walked into the house where i threw my body on to the bed in front of the double doors which led to the outside patio and turned the lights off on reality and consciousness.
Upon awakening in a haze i looked towards the patio to see that Grant and his friend had already left the premises and i had a whole of two letters to both of them. A mumbled 'hi' and that had been my entire interaction with my fellow addicts. I let the matter float from my mind like the smoke from the cigarette that i had lit. "You slept the entire time!" Alex informed me from the kitchen. "What the hell is the time?" I joined him and watched as he placed tin foil over various bowls of food. "About 7" he inspected his watch "half seven actually. You slept through the music and the noise, i could hardly believe it. I made you a plate of food. I hope you're hungry!?" I nodded with approval and searched in the direction he had gazed. "I was really looking forwards to this as well!" I mumbled in between bite-fulls of sausage meat and rice. How i had an appetite was beyond me but the meat tasted good and despite being cold and dripping in tomato ketchup it filled the gap that had developed in my tummy. After half the plate was consumed within a few minutes i lit a cigarette and joined the rest of the group outside for some general banter. Everyone pointed out their surprise at my sleeping for the entire afternoon and reminded me that we needed to head back to the girl's sober house fairly soon as i was due medication. On the walk back to the house i remember asking the opinion of my housemates on whether i should remain in rehab for longer than the two weeks i had planned on staying.
"If you have the funds, i would suggest you stay!" Donna told me as we entered the house. Now i had something else to think about, whether to increase my stay in this soul asylum or go back to the nothingness that presently presided over my future. Surprisingly it seemed like a difficult decission.
Again i was awoken by the noises of the blinds and the light pouring through the window like uninvited guests worming their way within my cocoon of sleep. I sat up in bed and took a breath of fresh air before deciding that i needed the pleasure of that first morning cigarette. I looked over on my bedside table for the packet containing my desired oral fixations. Instead i noticed the crystal i had been given before coming into this place. I remembered the gaze in my companion's eyes as he handed over the object to me. "Hold it every time you feel good, that way you will charge it full of your positive energies and can hold it when you feel bad to re-charge you with those good feelings!" If only things were as simple as this particular companion of mine thought. I decided to get up and made my way downstairs where i could light a cigarette in peace. To my annoyance thoughts of my boyfriend entered my head unsolicited and undesired yet impossible to get rid of. I couldn't help but wonder of what he was doing at that exact moment in time. He was in a rehab center in South Africa, enjoying the weather and the World Cup, whilst i was stuck in Luton the town that had sewage pipes as its veins. Quite fittingly Shakira came on the TV with her hypnosying hip movements and that 'this time for Africa' song. I switched the TV off and sulked off upstairs. The gods had really dealt me a bad set of cards this time. I thought to myself as i prepared my body for another day in the horrid, humid, sticky evaporated sweat of Luton in such insupportable heat. Wearing a playsuit which left little to the imagination i was ready to take on the day and whatever it spat my way. Despite it only being 4 hours at the center, it felt more like a year. Time had also got in on the joke that all of the greater powers were playing on me and it seemed i had no sense of humor to laugh at myself at that precise moment. Instead i did what i had become to know best and i felt a deep anguish for myself and my forlorn situation. I had become very aware of the fact that i had to produce a so called 'life-story' for the other addicts, alcoholics and councilors in the center but what was beyond me was how i was supposed to fit 21 years of my life time into 4 to 6 of their A4 pages and all of this had to be done within 4 days. I had already been there 4 days and had not even made a start on the piece. I had set in my mind a task of beginning the life story that night and finishing it. It seemed my fortune had changed as it had been unanimously decided that we would go and watch a world cup football match at one of the boys' houses. I had a vague sense of wanting to reach for some of the chocolate rolls that had been put out on the table in front of us, once everyone had been seated in their respective seats. I earnestly inspected every player as the camera panned on to the pitch, athletic legs on these world class players trapped within the facade of a business disguised as a sport. My last thought on the matter was that Tom was either enjoying the game on the stadium or on a beach somewhere. My consolation was that this time of year was considered winter in South Africa and was probably quite cold. I must have drifted off to sleep with a satisfied smile on my face as i thought of Tom enduring the rain and the cold when all he had tried to do was run away from that weather in England.
"Ana!" I could hear the voice but could not make out where it was coming from. "ANA!" And now i could feel something on my shoulder. I mumbled something incomprehensible, even to my own ears, and awoke to find a few faces around me. "The match is finished!" One of the moving globular masses of skin and flesh was grating their jaws at me reporting some irrelevant piece of information regarding the football. I allowed my brain a few minutes to come round and then got up in a dizzy haze and made my way to the car where i was escorted back to the center only to then be escorted back to the sober house. I walked in with the other two girls talking behind me about things which had little importance or relevance to my life as i knew it. I mumbled something about not being hungry and having to write my life story but only ended up passing out into a deep sleep on the sofa and dribbling on the lined paper i had intended on scribbling the story of my life.
"Morning!" She seemed surprised to see me awake so early. I was happy there was someone i could distract myself from myself with, by talking mindless nonsense. The conversation was very basic but the facts i managed to obtain out of her were that i had to be in a reasonable state by about quarter to nine as we had to walk down to the centre where i could obtain more medication. She then turned the tv on for me and left me with nothing by my aura and the noise of the TV in the background. My mind began to wonder. I began to remember the oily brown substance as it ran down the foil aided by my lighter and the fumes which warmed my body and my mind as i inhaled them. I pulled hard on my cigarette but nothing like the same feeling was returned. My leggs had begun to jig up and down like they had a life of their own and my stomach to cramp. I sipped on the hot tea and coughed until i started to wretch. Running up the stairs i got to the toilet bowl in time to cough up some sort of bile substance and then after wiping my mouth i waked back into my bedroom and put the covers over my fragile body. It was only then that i noticed the duvet was soaking wet and it only made me feel colder. I turned it over and wrapped myself in it putting my ipod on and letting the darkness warm me. The sun was already out in the sky and the clear blue that presented itself did inspire some confidence within me. After an hour of listening to the same bass lines wrapping themselves around me i once again convinced myself to get out of bed and attempt having a shower. My sweat was no normal sweat but it was toxic and smelt stale. Even my palms were covered in what i had accustomed myself to calling 'the withdrawal smell'. I crawled into the bathroom with my back hunched and my head dizzy. I closed all the windows to avoid the inevitable cold after the shower situation which always left me pissed off for even having attempted the shower. I was not to wash my hair, that even for me was too an adventurous expectation. I stood there, cold inside with the hot water pouring down my back and warming my goose-bump skin to normality. Scorching hot i stepped out of the shower and brushed my teeth. Now all that was left was finding some suitable attire and getting downstairs where i could enjoy a cigarette in peace and quiet. I dressed quickly, throwing clothes on the floor as i went through the small selection i had brought with me. I found a suitable dress and a cardigan to go over it, as experience taught me that i would probably be cold even if the sun was out and it was the middle of summer. I then took my place back downstairs and made myself another cup of tea and a cigarette to go with it. As time slowly dragged past i was eventually awakened from my open-eyed state of somnambulism by Donna who announced it was time we make a move on. I grabbed my fags and my ipod and i was ready for the march down to the centre. As we walked i had more of a chance to take in the surroundings. It just seemed ironic that i would be in rehab and yet the street that our sober house was placed on contained the highest concentration of drug addicts and dealers within a 20 mile radius. i tried to keep up with the girls and inspected the floor through my dark sunglasses. There was enough evidence that the people in these streets liked to party, that was for sure. If only i could join them. I began to fantasize to myself ways of getting out the sober house and perhaps meeting up with some new found friends, what an adventure that would be!? I smiled to myself as i thought of this and i fixed my gaze on a bloke hanging out of a window. Music emanated loudly and he seemed to have that glow in his eye, that naughty perspective. He smiled at me, a delayed half smile which indicated he was high on some sort of downer. I would happily have swapped places with him at that moment in time, or even i would have liked to be in his arms feeling the same lazy high on a friday morning knowing that there were two more days ahead of us when it was seen as acceptable by society to mope around in a permanent haze! My train of thought was interrupted.
'Ana!" Donna shouted after me, i had begun to slow down and gaze up at the bloke at the window. I hurried along and drove away the thoughts that had entered my mind. We entered the gates of the centre and i looked around at the other patients who were sitting around outside having a cigarette and looking quite glum. My mood had lifted as i knew i was about to be administered my medication, i ran upstairs and joined the queue for drugs. The south african guy was there and he as joined by a larger guy wearing some sort of hiking boots. I was invited into their office and sat down on the chair.
"You guys forgot my medication at six a clock last night. I had to drag myself to the meeting without it. Luckily i convinced the medication guy to give me the dfs later."
"So you did get your codeine in the end then?" ONe of them asked.
"Yeh, just cos i made sure i did. Anyway enough chatting and more doing please, i'm in pain here. I am due something like 4 britlofex and two valiums so hand them over, i have a cigarette to smoke!" I asserted my authority and then smiled sweetly. I could not be bothered with any bullshit but i also wanted the relationship i had with these medication givers, or dealers, to remain a reasonably good one. After all they were in charge of my medication and therefore of my life. After i had ingested the multicolored pills i made my way down the corridor and into the room where group took place. I had somehow landed in a place where standing in a circle and holding hands would soon become the highlight of my day, at this moment in time however it was the last thing i wanted to do. I sat down amidst my peers and gave a disturbing 'do not disturb me' look. I was soon left alone within the fragile layers of my mind. Before i could begin reflecting i had entered some sort of twilight zone in between sleep and consciousness. The medication had warmed my body and slowed my mind down. I was feeling like a prisoner, trapped within the confines of my mind and dragging around my ankle the painful steel ball of withdrawal. I was rudely awoken and brought back to reality which unfortunately for me had not changed as i was still in the same chair in the same claustrophobic confines of the group room. Despite the day continuing in a normal fashion i seemed to be in an alternate world of my own. I walked past the blurred realities all around me and helped myself to a cup of tea and a biscuit and lit a cigarette with my spare hand. How simple pleasures satisfied me so intensely, if only for a brief moment of time. I had become very aware of my sunglasses and their magical ability at rendering me invisible if albeit for a temporary amount of time. Still they helped and i seemed to have them glued to my eyes. The world seemed easier to understand through my dim, dark perspective. I say understand but the reality was that with my view of the world i found it easier to misunderstand than to bother with any real grasp of myself or others. I viewed myself as an island, an individual separated from the rest of humanity and what i could not understand was why the fuck the rest of humanity seemed to be throwing stones into my perfectly created habitat. My solution? set the island adrift into the sea of sociality and hope that i bump into none other than my own, and by that i mean other isolated masses of sand where their single inhabitants lived happily and perhaps ventured a knowing wave to one another which would simply signify their acknowledgement of you and them and the connecting albeit invisible fabric between you: detachment. Yet here i was, in a place where all the islanders had been gathered together and forced to spend time within the proximity of others like them. The only thing that i didn't understand was why i had been lumbered with these people when the reality, as i saw it, was that we had little to nothing in common. How could these people understand the way i thought? I could hardly understand the way my mind seemed to able down dark dangerous corridors without even bothering to warn me of where it was headed. I certainly did not enjoy visiting the dark nooks in my mind alone, let alone take these people, these addicts with me on a personalized tour of my innermost self. I yawned at this concept and listened to the small talk being made outside, in the carpark of the rehabilitation centre, where it seemed the smokers could relax and reflect on the simple joys of life over a shared cigarette. The conversation was focused on weather and people. "Simple people relate over people whilst complex people revel in ideas." i remember thinking to myself before deciding that i would benefit more from letting my mind wonder into my subconscious, and by that i mean that i just wanted to pass out and forget about where i was and what i had become. Back to blackness!
I opened my eyelashes at the sound of my voice. Somehow time had elapsed and it was after lunch. Someone somewhere had announced that it was time i grab my medication. All i heard was medication and awoke from my vertical position and stood to attention. Dizzy with delight at the thought of more mind numbing substances i climbed up the stairs, which felt more like a mountain and announced my presence in the office upstairs. Jeff, the south african, smiled at me and handed me my medication. I was in a better mood and managed to flirt somewhat as i swallowed the tablets, this time with water. I was somewhat elated to have found out that i had gone up in medication and therefore in my eyes in the world. I was surprisingly feeling quite comfortable within the realms of my own body and i was very aware of this as i climbed down the stairs and into the open space in which lunch was served. I ordered something small and unsubstantial, after all i had no intention of putting on weight whilst in this strange place. Instead i opted for a cigarette and waited for my food to be prepared. After a few mouthfuls of what tasted like bland warm mush covered in chilly sauce i threw the remainder away and washed it down with a glass of water. My kidneys were beginning to throw in my lower back and i was feeling dizzy and disturbed so i clomped off to slumber on the sofa in the corner of the room, armed with my sunglasses i let myself slip off into a much more pleasant world, that blank, peaceful state of sleep.
Between dark abysses of sleep and clouded moments of reality the day seemed to have melted away into the evening. The girls insisted that we venture into town to top up on some food and i was more than happy to follow them around like a lost and confused puppy. I could hardly understand why they were getting annoyed at my impulsive outbursts towards certain shops and i could hardly contain myself from wanting to go into clothes shops, after all that was what i had become accustomed to. I had been assigned a peer to keep an eye. Luckily he was of the male species and i could speak to him more directly than with the females. "Stay with me as i can't help but wanna steal" i informed him without any thought of him judging me. The facts were that i had become used to stealing anything out of anywhere and the fact that i was in rehab was hardly going to stop me. At least if he knew there was little i could do about it. I packed my basket with fruit and other nourishing foods, knowing in my mind that i craved chocolate and i had only been eating junk food for the past three months. Well minus the meals that my latest rich play toy had taken me on, they had been quite lovely. I had retracted into my self again like a snail into its shell and i began remembering my life outside of the treatment centre. Sleepless nights filled with white satin powder and booming bass which made my skin tremble and my ears bleed with pleasure. Now i was standing in a queue in tescos, buying fruit and wearing an adidas tracksuit. How things can change! we paid for the items i had chosen and then headed back towards the sober house. I have a vague recollection of having a cigarette with the boys and attempting to make some sort of conversation but my lucidity and my mind were elsewhere and again i was beginning to feel drugged and dozy so i floated up the stairs and into the single bed that i had been given as my own. I looked around the room at the dreary gray carpets and the empty peeling walls. The blinds that i had been given did a better job of letting the light into the room than keeping it out, and i now noticed that i had no mirror in the room. How was i expected to make sure i looked presentable without even a working mirror! I thought to myself as i lay down on the bed and let the springs support my limp and aching body.
"Ana, it's time to go!" Donna's voice boomed down my auditory canal and bounced within my mind. Annoyed at having had my bubble of darkness and comfort poked and burst by the vibrations of her voice, i let my legs dangle down the side of my bed and then got up in a less than fluid movement. My body still seemed like a foreign country in which i had taken temporary residence and could hardly find my bearings. I went to brush my teeth and wash my face before putting on a dress and taking a jumper for the walk back and in case i began getting the 'withdrawal shivers' crawling like super fast ants down my spine. i quickly sprayed some perfume on and walked down the stairs to meet with the girls and the boys who were sitting in the living quaters of the house. I say living quaters but i refer to a room with two leather sofas, a white table ikea table in the centre and a large bay window to the side of which was an ancient TV and a few DVD players stacked on top of each other. The joys of advancements in technology, i thought to myself as i sat down amongs my peers and lit a cigarette. The room had gone quiet. The way it does when an intruder has penetrated through the thin fabric of intimacy of a close group of friends. "Fear not for i come in peace!" I thought to myself but instead voiced the more socially acceptable: 'So, we are expected to go to a meeting everyday?' I displayed a look of disgust as i let this question float out of my mouth along with a cloud of smoke. "There are meetings everyday apart from on wednesdays" the skin head who had walked around the shops with me informed me. 'What happens on wednesdays?". "It's study night!" Donna had entered the room and stood on the table so she could view her features in the mirror hanging on one of the walls in the room. So there we were, a newly formed 5-some. Sean and Alex the two muscle bulked men with skinheads looking like indian patch quilts with their tattoos. Sean sporting a somewhat London outskirtish accent and blue eyes which matched his blue t-shirt. He joked and hit Alex's torse for approval. They both laughed together at some joke or other which i had missed as i was closely inspecting my new companions and trying to work them out somehow. Shikira was the chocolate skinned other youth in this group of society's mishaps. Her velvety smooth skin was flawed by few hardly perceivable imperfections and her mouth revealed perfectly pearly white teeth. Her short straw like hair was tucked under a cap and she sported a crutch in one arm to support herself.
"What have you done to your leg?" I ventured to ask and interrupt the tranquil scene that had built around me. "Have you only just noticed?" Alex pointed out my lack of perception. The truth was that i had been too preoccupied with myself and my own existence and thoughts to converse and fully engage in any form of meaningful conversation, let alone small talk. "I got pissed and fell from a third story balcony" she informed me quite abruptly. i tried to place myself in a state of empathy but i had a feeling that my acting skills had also been diminished without the use of drugs. I could not even muster that noise that people make when trying to show someone they identify with their pain or their shame. the 'aww' noise, the poor you insinuation behind it. I simply could not do it. Luckily it didn't seem too strange to these people that i simply nodded and then retracted in my own thoughts again. It was now time for us to amble down to the meeting. "You're going to like tonight's meeting Ana, its at the Hat Factory and it's a CA meeting" Alex said as we were walking down the steep stairs of 30 napier road, the girls sober house. "what does CA stand for?" I walked along side him and enjoyed the warmth of the early evening. "Cocaine anonymous" He answered me. The conversation topics changed from things to people and back to things and then to people. I waked along them and like a sponge soaked the information like it was water and let it stay within the creases of my mind before squeezing it out without it affecting me or me it in any way. We walked as a group down unknown streets and i took advantage of this time to ask some more about the rules and express my outraged opinion towards most of them. I made a mental post it note to relate this outrage to the councillors as something had to be done. After a quick pause by one of the shops where everyone entered to buy something useless like a sugar filled drink or some sort of sugar stimulant, including myself, we walked on outside what seemed like the train station. Well if i need to run away at least i know where the nearest train station is. I thought to myself as i lit a cigarette. I was warmly hugged by Grant, the figure i had spoken to the night before and a few other blokes. This was alright after all. I thought to myself as i engaged in conversation with Grant over my thoughts of rehab. Yeah i was pretty cynical but i was going to give it a go. i told him and attempted to understand his thick scottish slur. How i love a man with an accent! I thought to myself but before i had a chance to converse any further i was removed from the situation by my housemates who informed me it was time to go upstairs into this so called hat-factory and endure an hour long meeting. I entered the lift with the rest of the people and upon arriving on the third floor followed the crowd out the lift and into what looked freakishly similar to a recording studio. The walls were covered in graffiti planks of dark wood. The almost cliched yellow smily face with the three eyes and various other colors adorned the room and gave it an instantly likable and comfortable quality. The chairs were set out towards the front where there stood a table with two people behind it. After everyone had made themselves comfortable and helped themselves with tea and biscuits, the murmur of voices had dimmed down to a profuse silence and the lights were dimmed. This was a much better atmosphere and i could tell i was going to enjoy this meeting much more than the previous one i had attended. I made myself comfortable and put my legs up on the chairs in front and enjoyed the darkness as it made me feel like another number in the crowd, another name in a pile of nameless subjects. The sound waves coming out of the mouth of the speaker initially awoke within my mind some sort of interest and made me giggle but unfortunately after the combination of chemically released endorphins into my brain from the inappropriate and unrepressed laughter, the warmth of the stuffy room and the comforting blanket of darkness i was lulled into sleep. My head began doing the up down dance it used to do when i would be high on drugs. It would slowly lean itself forwards as the muscles in the back of my neck began to relax and when reaching a certain point would free fall so quickly that it would awaken me temporarily and i would ensure the muscles held my head back in a reasonable position. I became annoyed with this repeated process and so rested my head on my hand to avoid my neighbors disturbing me from my napping or me disturbing them from listening to the speaker. All i wanted was to be undisturbed whilst being disturbing. I was flicked out of the elastic band within the realms of my unconscious and back into my body by my neighbor. 'Ouwch!" i groaned and observed that the lights were about to be undimmed. I giggled to myself at the thought that it was friday night and of all places in the world i was stuck in Luton and what a change this made to the festival i had been attending the previous weekend. I got up and followed my peers out of the door, into the elevator and out of the door. I have a vague memory of engaging in some sort of conversation with some people from my centre however the context of which eludes me for the waters of my mind were murky with sleep and withdrawal. I could hardly contain my desire to get home and settle down in the comfort of the springy single bed and the synthetic duvet with its brand new and stiff covers. As Shikira hobbled up the stairs and placed the key in the door i wished that the boys were not coming in but i kept these thoughts to myself. impatient to get into the house i lit a cigarette and took my place on the sofa. I took my headphones out of my ears and listened to the conversation.
"So if we buy everything tomorrow after the centre we can have this barbeque in the afternoon" one of the tattoo twins was asserting his planning authority. "I think the weather is going to be good as well" Chirpped in Donna.
"Whats going on tomorrow?" I caught on to the drawstring of conversation and let myself be dragged along by the rest of the group. "were having a barbeque"
"that much is apparent, where?with who?" I cynically inspected their faces as they searched for answers that would be sufficient for me. "Its at our house." Alex responded first. "we have a garden and everything. so we can have a barbeque at the back."
"Alex is a chef you know. so he will be cooking the food for us tomorrow" someone else had chirped in. I voiced some sort of half interested remark at this new piece of information and then excused myself to go and change with the parting words 'i just hope it doesn't rain. i hate the weather in the country' and i walked up the stairs. It was almost time for my medication and the boys had deserted our sober house and a silence pervaded the building. It made the sound of the water streaming out of the tap all the more potent. I washed my face and inspected my reflection in the mirror. The same dissatisfied little girl started back. 'you can do this. you can get sober and you don't need drugs anymore' i told myself within the confines of my mind. A rather large linger of doubt still existed, especially as two weeks was hardly long enough to get over an addiction i had acquired over 5 years.
The following morning was a saturday. I awoke and sat up in bed, checking the time on my phone. Ironically it was the crack of dawn and i had no crack. With a pillow to help me rest up against the cold wall behind me i began to reflect yet again upon how low i had let myself slip. I lit a cigarette and let the smoke dance in the rays of the sun which entered through the broken blinds. i enjoyed the smell and taste of that first cigarette in the morning. I wished i was in my own king sized bed with my cloud like duck feather stuffed duvet cover and all of my possessions littered around me. I had transformed the bed in my Leeds abode into my sanctuary. A white net hung over it giving off the impression that one was protected and safe within the entralls of its cocoon, and sunken into the soft cotton wool like nature of my virginal white duvet cover i would have my laptop and various clothes. Being a loft room at the top of the house the slanted windows were covered like eyelids by perfectly fitting blings which allowed me to forget whether it was night or day and live in a limbo of my own making. The only light present in the room were the pink feathered fairy lights that i had adorned around my bed, to help me identify where i had placed my possessions, myself or my sanity. Unfortunately they never gave the desired results and only achieved the opposite. It was upon this bed that i enjoyed making love with my most loyal lover, heroin. Yet here i was, in a small single bed with a tracing paper duvet cover and blinds which let in the natural light so frivolously. I observed the empty walls around me and could not help but feel that this empty room was somehow more protrusive and invading with its emptiness. i stubbed out the cigarette and walked over to the window. My body seemed to be regaining some normality back into it. But that acrid smell of withdrawal seemed to be following me around like a plague. I opened the window to let some fresh air in and then made my way to have a shower. Somehow time had ticked a little faster this morning and i was relieved to know that i only had two more hours until my first medications of the morning were being delivered to the door of the sober house. I occupied those two hours by drinking numerous cups of tea and smoking cigarette after cigarette. With half an hour to burn i had decided that i was going to put my war pain on. I lined my eyes with a smoky black to make the dark brown of my pupils make even more of a contrast with my yellow-blonde hair. Then the hair went up, back brushed until it looked like an upturned bird's nest. I made sure my cheeks and cheek bones were highlighted and then applied a little bit of lipstick on. I was ready to take on whatever the world wanted to throw my way. Once i had the medication down me i was more than happy to follow my housemates to the morning meeting. Sitting around in a circle and attempting to meditate had never been my idea of fun. I tried closing my eyes and getting a healthy dose of peace instead only falling into a drug induced sleep and causing more disturbances to the meetings. Unaware that i was behaving like a little child run wild i stood outside and flirted with Grant quite openly. The sun was shining in the sky and here i was outside of a cemetery smiling and flicking my hair at this new Scottish acquaintance of mine. If rehab was not going to be fun then i would have to make my on enjoyment, and i quite liked the idea of flirting with this stranger. Both of us indirectly affirming to each other that we would, given the chance and considering the circumstances, sleep together. After the events of the morning i walked along with my group of addicts and alcoholics. One thing was becoming increasingly apparent and that was that Shikira and Sean (the taller of the tattoo twins) were definitely getting it on. I observed them flirting from a distance, it was definably the flirting of two people who were either actively pursuing the means to satisfy themselves or simply were as sexually frustrated as myself. I could identify with that as my genitalia seemed to be the only thing on my body that was not frozen but instead was craving some attention. As i thought about this i found myself outside in the carpark of the centre, smoking a cigarette and listening to the general banter of the group. It all seemed to be aimed towards the one person. I took little notice but soaked up the information like a sponge and saved in my brain, just in case i needed it for later usage.
The weekends were slightly more relaxed at the rehab centre. We came in at lunch time and only had four hours to endure. On this specific saturday it was a day at the park. i was quite elated to have learned this piece of information as i fancied lying out in the sun and getting a bit of a tan on my feta white skin. i was also granted a lift in the car of the South African councillor and we drove up and away from the concrete world into nature. It was a nice feeling having the warm breeze gently linger on my face, that is until the sun hid under a cloud and that same gentle breeze had turned into the very thing which caused every hair on my skin to pinprick to attention. I was told i was allowed to lie under a tree, and i did exactly that. At first i watched with beady eyes as the alpha males asserted their authority on the group by removing their t-shirts. I saw nothing appealing in the crowd, only hairy chests adorned with tattoos and the memory of once chiseled abs and six-packs, and soon fell into a world of my own dreams or rather a numb blankness which hurried time along. I have vague memories of the wind tickling my back and me reaching for someone's t-shirt to wrap myself in, blurred voices talked to me but i was too far away to hear even what the voices in my head were saying. I woke up as the group was gathered around me helping themselves to drinking water and rubbing their sweaty foreheads and backs. I could hardly believe that the hours had elapsed so quickly but was relieved and looking forwards to the barbecue that afternoon. The sun was high up in the sky and it was a very warm and pleasant day. I got up and allowed myself to get back into the overheated car and be driven back to the center. We had finished for the day and i felt a burst of energy within me. It was a Saturday after all and i wanted to have some fun. This burst of energy was further confirmed when Shikira announced that Grant and his friend were going to join us at the barbecue i could hardly believe my luck. At last i could flaunt my pear white skin in the sun and flirt with other heroin addicts whilst playing loud music. Memories of other similar events flooded my mind and i remembered the smell of meat cooking on the red hot stove and alcohol pouring freely. This time there would be no alcohol, only a bit of banter to amuse ourselves. Shikira, who seemed as keen as me in undressing and letting the sun get to her body suggested we put on bikinis and bring one of our CDs to ensure the music would be to our satisfaction. As we giggled and hopped up the hill i observed that actually i was feeling surprisingly good in the foreign realms of my body and calm within the edifices of my mind. The tattoo twins occupied themselves with purchasing all of the necessaries for the evening's entertainment whilst the girls returned home and washed and prepared ourselves for an afternoon of fun. I ensured that i applied yet more warpaint and made sure my hair was even messier than before. Black lined eyes and high cheekbones with a short dress and a pair of espadrilles on my feet and i was ready to party! I lit a cigarette and waited for the other two girls to get themselves ready. They both seemed to be dressed rather conservatively, although Shikira assured me that she had her bikini and would take off her top when the right moment came up. We walked down the hills of Luton towards the boys house. I had been informed already of the incident where Alex, the smaller of the tattoo twins, had discovered a baggie filled with weed right outside of his doorway. I had listened in disbelief as he told of how he had decided to hand it in to the center and wished that i had been there when he found it so some sense could be talked into the man. His story confirmed my developing theories that i had little to nothing in common with these people, all the more reason to socialize with Grant who, like me, understood what it meant to be a heroin addict. The torrid heat outside hardly matched with my freezing interior. I was beginning to melt like an ice lolly left out in the sun and my existence within the interior of my sweaty sticky skin was beginning to feel even more uncomfortable. The scene of perfect tranquility was penetrated by our loud voices as we entered the boys' terraced home. I inspected the furniture in the living room and then made my way through to the kitchen where various pans stood on stoves the contents of which did not inspire any interest within me and the meats that were being garnished with sauces ready to be grilled on the barbecue outside were even less appealing. I followed the smell of burning coal through a bedroom and out through the patio doors into the outside heat. I remember dwelling on the bizzare decission to have placed a bedroom right next to the kitchen, on the ground floor with double doors leading to this concrete outside. The boys were making an effort to make the concrete slabbed outside that they had for a garden appear more comforting. A table and chairs were brought out into the sun and a blanket was placed on the hot concrete slabs. The barbecue burned away in a corner and the smell of coal reminded me of times gone by. Instead of a suburban picket fence this house had a brick built frame around patio area, perhaps to indicate the exact length of the property. The bricked fence had a gap in it which was perhaps to serve as an entry point. I stood on the fence and inspected my surroundings from a higher viewpoint. Beyond the carefully measured and assigned patio of each perfectly identical house there was a car park, where the inhabitants of these urban hammocks could park their heaving metal, glass and rubber pods for the night. I could now, with the advantage of having half a meter added to my 1 and 62 centimeters, see that there was a spot of perfectly planned greenery in the form of a park. Even that park had been enclosed by a large concrete wall with barbed wire lovingly adorned like tinsel along a windowsill at Christmas. What i could not work out was whether the barbed wired barrier was meant to be keeping the deadly fumes and grime of the concrete world out of the park or stopping these chlorophyll life-forms from extending their branches into the ideally measured concrete mess we had become accustomed to calling our home? Whatever the answer was i did not have it and i chose instead to light a cigarette and think of more pressing matters such as Grant's arrival. I watched intently the tobacco turn to ash as i sucked the air out of the cancer stick i was medicating myself with. A murmur of conversation was coming from the open window of the kitchen which overlooked the patio. I stepped down from my position of heightened perception and sat myself down on the rug in the sun. If only my chicken-skinned legs could be burned by the sun in the same way the dead chicken flesh disguised as drumsticks were being cooked on the barbecue. Music blurted out of the CD player and i cynically listened to the words: 'call me Mr Flintstone i can make your bedrock' and thought of how another member of my generation like me chose to allude to something he had thought would gain him some respect among his peers. Ironically i only judged him and lost a little more respect in humanity as it was beyond me why this would be playing on the radio and people singing along to it. Before i had anymore time to reflect on this aspect of 21st century life Grant and his tall blonde companion whose name had eluded me walked into the cement garden of bliss that my peers had created. I sat up and removed my glasses so i could give them a better inspection with my information hungry eyes. The tattoo twins greeted them with the customary man-shake which probably was a way of establishing who was to assume the alpha male role out of the group of men present in the situation. It was easily the taller of the tat-twins, Sean. I concluded, after all he seemed to be the most confident male with the biggest muscles. I panned the scene with my eyes hidden behind dark shaded sunglasses, Grant's eyes had already explored me, i felt the whole six inches of my dress be measured by his ebony pupils. I lay myself down and pretended to be oblivious to my surroundings and the people in it. To add a dash of mystery to my demeanor i also blocked my ears with my headphones so as to overhear the conversation without having my thoughts escape from my ears as easily as words sometimes did from my mouth. The banal conversation droned on and i chose to actually block my ears from the noise and enjoy the sun. Within moments i was crossing the abyss between the world of reality and that of toxic sleep the only thing slowing me down was the arid heat that hung in the air all around me like a cloud of smoke. I got up, dizzy with dehydration and confusion, walked into the house where i threw my body on to the bed in front of the double doors which led to the outside patio and turned the lights off on reality and consciousness.
Upon awakening in a haze i looked towards the patio to see that Grant and his friend had already left the premises and i had a whole of two letters to both of them. A mumbled 'hi' and that had been my entire interaction with my fellow addicts. I let the matter float from my mind like the smoke from the cigarette that i had lit. "You slept the entire time!" Alex informed me from the kitchen. "What the hell is the time?" I joined him and watched as he placed tin foil over various bowls of food. "About 7" he inspected his watch "half seven actually. You slept through the music and the noise, i could hardly believe it. I made you a plate of food. I hope you're hungry!?" I nodded with approval and searched in the direction he had gazed. "I was really looking forwards to this as well!" I mumbled in between bite-fulls of sausage meat and rice. How i had an appetite was beyond me but the meat tasted good and despite being cold and dripping in tomato ketchup it filled the gap that had developed in my tummy. After half the plate was consumed within a few minutes i lit a cigarette and joined the rest of the group outside for some general banter. Everyone pointed out their surprise at my sleeping for the entire afternoon and reminded me that we needed to head back to the girl's sober house fairly soon as i was due medication. On the walk back to the house i remember asking the opinion of my housemates on whether i should remain in rehab for longer than the two weeks i had planned on staying.
"If you have the funds, i would suggest you stay!" Donna told me as we entered the house. Now i had something else to think about, whether to increase my stay in this soul asylum or go back to the nothingness that presently presided over my future. Surprisingly it seemed like a difficult decission.
Again i was awoken by the noises of the blinds and the light pouring through the window like uninvited guests worming their way within my cocoon of sleep. I sat up in bed and took a breath of fresh air before deciding that i needed the pleasure of that first morning cigarette. I looked over on my bedside table for the packet containing my desired oral fixations. Instead i noticed the crystal i had been given before coming into this place. I remembered the gaze in my companion's eyes as he handed over the object to me. "Hold it every time you feel good, that way you will charge it full of your positive energies and can hold it when you feel bad to re-charge you with those good feelings!" If only things were as simple as this particular companion of mine thought. I decided to get up and made my way downstairs where i could light a cigarette in peace. To my annoyance thoughts of my boyfriend entered my head unsolicited and undesired yet impossible to get rid of. I couldn't help but wonder of what he was doing at that exact moment in time. He was in a rehab center in South Africa, enjoying the weather and the World Cup, whilst i was stuck in Luton the town that had sewage pipes as its veins. Quite fittingly Shakira came on the TV with her hypnosying hip movements and that 'this time for Africa' song. I switched the TV off and sulked off upstairs. The gods had really dealt me a bad set of cards this time. I thought to myself as i prepared my body for another day in the horrid, humid, sticky evaporated sweat of Luton in such insupportable heat. Wearing a playsuit which left little to the imagination i was ready to take on the day and whatever it spat my way. Despite it only being 4 hours at the center, it felt more like a year. Time had also got in on the joke that all of the greater powers were playing on me and it seemed i had no sense of humor to laugh at myself at that precise moment. Instead i did what i had become to know best and i felt a deep anguish for myself and my forlorn situation. I had become very aware of the fact that i had to produce a so called 'life-story' for the other addicts, alcoholics and councilors in the center but what was beyond me was how i was supposed to fit 21 years of my life time into 4 to 6 of their A4 pages and all of this had to be done within 4 days. I had already been there 4 days and had not even made a start on the piece. I had set in my mind a task of beginning the life story that night and finishing it. It seemed my fortune had changed as it had been unanimously decided that we would go and watch a world cup football match at one of the boys' houses. I had a vague sense of wanting to reach for some of the chocolate rolls that had been put out on the table in front of us, once everyone had been seated in their respective seats. I earnestly inspected every player as the camera panned on to the pitch, athletic legs on these world class players trapped within the facade of a business disguised as a sport. My last thought on the matter was that Tom was either enjoying the game on the stadium or on a beach somewhere. My consolation was that this time of year was considered winter in South Africa and was probably quite cold. I must have drifted off to sleep with a satisfied smile on my face as i thought of Tom enduring the rain and the cold when all he had tried to do was run away from that weather in England.
"Ana!" I could hear the voice but could not make out where it was coming from. "ANA!" And now i could feel something on my shoulder. I mumbled something incomprehensible, even to my own ears, and awoke to find a few faces around me. "The match is finished!" One of the moving globular masses of skin and flesh was grating their jaws at me reporting some irrelevant piece of information regarding the football. I allowed my brain a few minutes to come round and then got up in a dizzy haze and made my way to the car where i was escorted back to the center only to then be escorted back to the sober house. I walked in with the other two girls talking behind me about things which had little importance or relevance to my life as i knew it. I mumbled something about not being hungry and having to write my life story but only ended up passing out into a deep sleep on the sofa and dribbling on the lined paper i had intended on scribbling the story of my life.
