Cole Carrington (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
burninginside) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dreamlikenewyork2016-02-17 10:45 am
burninginside) wrote in dreamlikenewyork2016-02-17 10:45 am
@ muserevival | 116.1. Lyrics
HERE @ muserevival
"Maybe it's time to change
And leave it all behind
I've never been one to walk alone
I've always been scared to try
So why does it feel so wrong
To reach for something more
To wanna live a better life
What am I waiting for?"
• Maybe, Sick Puppies
Cole had never done well in these group therapy sessions. Not at all because he believed he was immune to their therapeutic benefits; he knew they had their purpose. But because he was cognitively impaired these days with sensory processing issues. Too many people around him was overwhelming. The heavy substance abuse had left him damaged. He was never going to fully recover anymore. Most days, he didn’t want to recover, he just wanted to erase himself from existence. He had effectively been told he was ‘brain damaged’ because of the drugs, however it was clarified there were many levels of damage a brain could suffer and he was on the lower-level of the scale. There was hope, there was help, there was support. But the drugs had caused permanent damage to the blood vessels in his brain. That was the news that caused him to spiral out of control and try to take his own life. Again.
On top of all that, he had high blood pressure, severe clinical depression, cognitive impairment, memory issues, sexual issues, and impaired kidney function. If you only you could quit drugs, detox, do a stint in rehab and be miraculously cured of a severe drug habit. If only you could ride unicorns that farted glitter to a soundtrack of ‘In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida’ too. Of all that, though, it was hearing it in plain words - he had damaged his brain. He hadn’t wanted to stop, and now there was no quick fix to permanent damage.
The heaviest part was that he knew drugs could cause damage like this. But they make you so emotionally-stunted that you don’t care about the rationality of it. You either think you’re invincible or you don’t care what they do, because you believe the way they make you feel is better than literally anything in the entire world. You can’t live without it. You won’t live without it. You truly believe drugs are the only thing that mattered. It was why, having now landed himself in the closed Chemical Dependency Crisis/Detoxification Unit, elaborately labeled as ‘dual-diagnosis’ of ‘severe substance addiction from long-term use and mental illness’. That was before they even listed all the physical damage he had caused himself. At least these days you weren’t automatically tethered in a straight jacket and tossed into a padded cell. Silver linings? Cole didn’t understand silver linings anymore. He didn’t understand any positive emotion.
He did, however, understand all the negative emotions because he was constantly trapped in them. Group family therapy sessions. He had been sitting in there alone. His specialists and therapists had ensured repeatedly that it would be therapeutic for him to have some support; peer, family, friend, sponsor. Cole didn’t want to speak to any of them. It wasn’t about shame or anger, it was simply that he knew he had already bled them all dry. He didn’t deserve their support because he had screwed every single one of them over repeatedly. And he was still here. He failed every time. Any steady footing he achieved on the wagon, he had still fallen off every time. And lately, most of his friends had the spotlight thrown on their fatherhood and being parents to their kids. Without even realising it was happening, Cole had sunk into a more dangerous depression because it made him think about what a fucking failure of a father he was. He didn’t deserve the label. Despite his friends urging him to try to contact his son, his son didn’t deserve a fucked up a father. No kid deserved a fucked up father.
Beyond all that, however, something unexpected happened. A complete stranger had saved Cole’s life when he was trying to end it. There had been someone so selfless and kind-hearted, that they didn’t even think before doing it. Cole didn’t understand why this had managed to impact on him, and weave its way into his mind and stick there, but it had. Now he couldn’t at all explain why he had called Luka up and asked if he would come to just one of these group therapy sessions with him. At first, he told himself it was stupid… only to realise the reason he did it was because he wanted to thank the guy. Just because he didn’t want to keep living didn’t mean he wasn’t appreciative of the fact that Luka did that. Just because he wasn’t one of them didn’t mean good people ceased to exist in the world.
Luka agreed too, without even questioning it. He double checked the time, the location, and even arrived half an hour early so he wouldn’t miss it. Now Cole was sitting there in the session beside Luka, arms crossed, head hung and eyes down-turned to his feet. He wasn’t participating. He never participated. But this time, he wasn’t alone. For some reason his incapacitated and weary brain couldn’t work out, with not being alone, it felt like something in him had changed. And he didn’t think he deserved that either.
muserevival"Maybe it's time to change
And leave it all behind
I've never been one to walk alone
I've always been scared to try
So why does it feel so wrong
To reach for something more
To wanna live a better life
What am I waiting for?"
• Maybe, Sick Puppies
Cole had never done well in these group therapy sessions. Not at all because he believed he was immune to their therapeutic benefits; he knew they had their purpose. But because he was cognitively impaired these days with sensory processing issues. Too many people around him was overwhelming. The heavy substance abuse had left him damaged. He was never going to fully recover anymore. Most days, he didn’t want to recover, he just wanted to erase himself from existence. He had effectively been told he was ‘brain damaged’ because of the drugs, however it was clarified there were many levels of damage a brain could suffer and he was on the lower-level of the scale. There was hope, there was help, there was support. But the drugs had caused permanent damage to the blood vessels in his brain. That was the news that caused him to spiral out of control and try to take his own life. Again.
On top of all that, he had high blood pressure, severe clinical depression, cognitive impairment, memory issues, sexual issues, and impaired kidney function. If you only you could quit drugs, detox, do a stint in rehab and be miraculously cured of a severe drug habit. If only you could ride unicorns that farted glitter to a soundtrack of ‘In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida’ too. Of all that, though, it was hearing it in plain words - he had damaged his brain. He hadn’t wanted to stop, and now there was no quick fix to permanent damage.
The heaviest part was that he knew drugs could cause damage like this. But they make you so emotionally-stunted that you don’t care about the rationality of it. You either think you’re invincible or you don’t care what they do, because you believe the way they make you feel is better than literally anything in the entire world. You can’t live without it. You won’t live without it. You truly believe drugs are the only thing that mattered. It was why, having now landed himself in the closed Chemical Dependency Crisis/Detoxification Unit, elaborately labeled as ‘dual-diagnosis’ of ‘severe substance addiction from long-term use and mental illness’. That was before they even listed all the physical damage he had caused himself. At least these days you weren’t automatically tethered in a straight jacket and tossed into a padded cell. Silver linings? Cole didn’t understand silver linings anymore. He didn’t understand any positive emotion.
He did, however, understand all the negative emotions because he was constantly trapped in them. Group family therapy sessions. He had been sitting in there alone. His specialists and therapists had ensured repeatedly that it would be therapeutic for him to have some support; peer, family, friend, sponsor. Cole didn’t want to speak to any of them. It wasn’t about shame or anger, it was simply that he knew he had already bled them all dry. He didn’t deserve their support because he had screwed every single one of them over repeatedly. And he was still here. He failed every time. Any steady footing he achieved on the wagon, he had still fallen off every time. And lately, most of his friends had the spotlight thrown on their fatherhood and being parents to their kids. Without even realising it was happening, Cole had sunk into a more dangerous depression because it made him think about what a fucking failure of a father he was. He didn’t deserve the label. Despite his friends urging him to try to contact his son, his son didn’t deserve a fucked up a father. No kid deserved a fucked up father.
Beyond all that, however, something unexpected happened. A complete stranger had saved Cole’s life when he was trying to end it. There had been someone so selfless and kind-hearted, that they didn’t even think before doing it. Cole didn’t understand why this had managed to impact on him, and weave its way into his mind and stick there, but it had. Now he couldn’t at all explain why he had called Luka up and asked if he would come to just one of these group therapy sessions with him. At first, he told himself it was stupid… only to realise the reason he did it was because he wanted to thank the guy. Just because he didn’t want to keep living didn’t mean he wasn’t appreciative of the fact that Luka did that. Just because he wasn’t one of them didn’t mean good people ceased to exist in the world.
Luka agreed too, without even questioning it. He double checked the time, the location, and even arrived half an hour early so he wouldn’t miss it. Now Cole was sitting there in the session beside Luka, arms crossed, head hung and eyes down-turned to his feet. He wasn’t participating. He never participated. But this time, he wasn’t alone. For some reason his incapacitated and weary brain couldn’t work out, with not being alone, it felt like something in him had changed. And he didn’t think he deserved that either.