A Million Little Pieces - James Frey [11]
You settling in okay?
Yeah.
Anything we can do to make you more comfortable?
No.
We need some more information to round out our file. Do you mind answering a few questions?
No.
He picks up a pen.
When did you start using drugs and alcohol?
I started drinking at ten, doing drugs at twelve.
And when did you start using heavily?
At fifteen I was drinking every day, at eighteen I was drinking and doing drugs every day. It has gotten much much heavier since then.
Do you black out?
Yes.
How often?
Every day.
How long has this been happening?
Four years or five years.
Do you get sick?
Every day.
How often?
When I wake up, when I have my first drink, when I have my first meal and a few more times after that.
How many times is a few?
Anywhere from three to seven.
How long has this been happening?
Four or five years.
Do you ever contemplate suicide?
Yes.
Have you ever tried it?
No.
Have you ever been arrested?
Yes.
How many times?
Twelve or thirteen.
For what?
All kinds of shit.
Such as?
Possession, Possession with Intent to Distribute, three DUI’s, a bunch of Vandalism and Destruction of Property charges, Assault, Assault with a Deadly Weapon, Assaulting an Officer of the Law, Public Drunkenness, Disturbing the Peace. I’m sure there’s some other shit, but I don’t remember exactly what.
Are any of the charges still outstanding?
Most of them.
Where?
Michigan, Ohio and North Carolina.
Have you been going to Court?
No.
Are you out on Bail?
I skipped Bail.
Where?
Everywhere.
Why?
I’ve been to Jail. I don’t like it and I don’t want to go back.
You’re gonna have to deal with the charges at some point.
I know.
We’ll encourage you to do it while you’re here. Or at least start the process.
I’ll think about it.
How have you been making a living?
Selling drugs.
That will have to stop.
I know.
Have you ever been to Treatment before?
No.
Why?
I was never willing to go. I told my Parents if they tried to put me in I’d leave and they’d never see me again. They believed me.
He pauses and he sets down his pen. He looks me in the eye and I can feel that he’s testing me, waiting for me to look away, so I don’t.
Do you want to get sober?
I think so.
You think so?
Yeah.
Does that mean yes?
It means I think so.
Why?
My life is Hell, has been Hell for too long. If I keep going I’m going to die. I’m not sure I want to be dead yet.
Are you willing to do whatever it takes?
I don’t know.
I’ll ask again. Are you willing to do whatever it takes?
I don’t know.
I’ll ask one more time. Are you willing to do whatever it takes?
I don’t know.
He stares at me, angry I won’t give him the answers he wants to hear. I stare back.
If you’re not willing to do whatever it takes, you might as well leave. I would rather you not, but we can’t help you until you’re ready to help yourself. Think about it and we can talk more. If you need anything come find me.
I will.
He stands and I stand and he comes around the desk and we leave the Office and we go back into the Unit. Men are returning from lunch and are gathering in small groups at the tables, on the couches, in small clumps of fold-out chairs. Ken asks me if I want to meet anyone and I tell him no and he leaves and I watch him walk over to another man and start talking to him. I find a chair and I light a cigarette and I take a long deep drag and I look at the men sitting around me. They are black and white and yellow and brown. They have long hair, short hair, beards and mustaches. They are well dressed and they wear rags, they are fat and they are thin. They are hard, weathered, worn-out and desperate. Intimidating and thuggish, addicted and insane. They are all different and they are all the same and as I sit there smoking my cigarette, they