I squirmed in the chair, not wanting to be here. Rehab, Jesus. Was that fucked up or what? But I was doing more drugs than I'd let on, more than anybody knew.
I did a lot of different ones but I liked coke the best. I liked the confidence it gave me, liked that kind of high. Now here I was and I had to deal with things stone cold sober. I felt the dopamine receptors in my brain crying out for their elixir.
"So, Craig, let's talk about your coping mechanisms," I sighed. This was the one on one counseling sessions and I knew the drill. I'd better talk. But it was harder than it seemed, thinking about your life and how you fucked it up. That was good, though. I fucked it up, and that was taking responsibility for it. There were plenty of people I could blame, who I used to blame. You know. My mom. My dad. Joey. Ashley. Leo. Everyone but me.
"How have you typically dealt with things in your life, things that were wrong?" This woman was reserved, she wore a dress suit and high heels. I blinked, shifted in my seat. I didn't really want to do this. It was easy to just drift along day to day and not think about how you dealt with things.
"I don't know," I said. Maybe I was being difficult. How did I deal with things? Doing drugs was sort of recent. I didn't know. I didn't want to think about it.
"C'mon, Craig. Don't you have any insight into your behavior?" she said, challenging me. Did I? Maybe not, since I kept screwing up. Just like my dad said that last night I saw him, and I could hear him say it, 'you always screw up,'
"Okay. I guess I sort of avoid it, I pretend that things are okay," Would that make her happy? She smiled, at least.
"Is that what you did regarding your drug use?"
"Yeah,"
Yeah. Spending all that money, chasing all those drugs all the time. Getting high before every show, bleeding onstage. Feeling my heart racing like I was having a heart attack or something. Not stopping. Not giving it up. Lying to Ellie, telling her it was Manny and not me, telling her I loved her just so she wouldn't call Joey. All the while I told myself I didn't have a problem, I was fine. I could handle it.
"How else have you dealt with things?" she said. I closed my eyes and thought about it. Pretending things were fine was a good one but when that stopped working I'd run away. Running. I remembered all the times I'd ran. Grade nine when my dad was trying to kill me with that golf club. Grade ten when Ashley kept trying to get me to say I loved her. What did I do? I ran from her, I cheated on her with Manny. Grade 11, when Joey said he wanted rent money. Man did I freak at that one. And when Joey and Caitlin were fighting because of me, I ran. I took off. It was easy. And then when Leo came along and offered me that record deal, I took it.
"Running away," I said, and it sounded so small, so cowardly. But it was what I did. I never stayed and faced anything. I took off. But now I guess I was dealing with that old truth, wherever you go, there you are. You can't run away from yourself.
"Maybe there are different ways that you could cope with things? Ways that aren't as harmful as running and doing drugs and avoiding it. Craig?"
"Yeah," I said, my eyes glazing. I felt like my blood sugar was low. Man, I really wanted a line of coke. Just one little line, just something to get all the flies going in the right direction. What I wouldn't do for just one line.