Do you remember this entry? To sum up, I stood up for my friend DD when he had a meltdown at work, and subsequently he was placed on medical leave for a month.
Well...2008 is already full of surprises and we're only 20 days into it.
Last night, DD confessed to me (and mind you, this is after almost a year of a very close friendship/music relationship) that he's been a cocaine addict since he was 16 or 17 years old.
*insert screeching brake sound effect here*
To use a well-worn phrase, "You could have knocked me over with a feather." The way I look at it now is this: he either IS a coke addict, or he's so starved for attention and afraid of conflict that he'd say anything to get out of an uncomfortable situation.
In retrospect (and granted, not even 24 hours have passed so the Sudiebrain has been grindin' and smokin'), I should have known. So many "impetuous" things he did that I was enchanted by were caused by chemicals instead of simple enjoyment of life. So many empty promises...so many harsh words...so many little things started and never completed...so many, so many, so many.
He says that he can't do music without the coke. Without the coke, he sounds like s**t (he says). Without the coke, he says he can't do nearly as many projects for home improvement, etc. Without it, he is just like everyone else.
But I was Pollyanna. I stood up for him at work when he had his freakout. I stuck my neck out. And now, this.
I am so very disappointed. Is that the right word to use? "Disappointment" is describing Carol Brady when she finds out the boys broke her vase and didn't tell her the truth. "Disappointment" doesn't even begin to cover how I feel.
I'm convinced I'm stupid for ever believing him.
I'm angry at him. He has a beautiful daughter, friends that care about him, and he's very intelligent and capable. I myself gave him a piece of my heart that I can't get back ever again. I feel used...like he only wanted me for my "golden throat" but the coke was more important.
I feel sad for him. I've seen him drop huge amounts of money on music equipment following some coke-fueled musical dream which never materialized. I've seen him flit from activity to activity, sometimes never finishing a song we're running through because he's vibrating with some inner urge and he HAS to move to something else.
I feel fear for him...he says the coke doesn't cause physical addiction, only mental. Never mind that his heart could explode or he could have a stroke or die from a "bad batch" cut with something reprehensible. Never mind that cocaine can eat a hole in your nasal passages and can make you feel like bugs are crawling all over your skin (this is only what I've read, NOT from personal experience...mania is enough like the bad effects of a coke high that I feel I can comment).
I'm anxious for myself...I stuck my neck out for him at work, and it turns out that I was an all-day sucker. I went to my boss because I was concerned about DD's stress levels, and now...God only knows how much of DD's stress was real and how much of it was drug-induced. Part of me wants to talk to his contract manager (whom I have gotten to know quite well) even though I promised him I wouldn't breathe a word of his addiction to anyone.
I told him no music with me unless he gets and stays clean. But I can't really know if he is...jam sessions will forever be tainted by watchfulness. Is that coke dust around DD's nose? His eyes look red...his hands are shaking...is he on it again? I'd be turning into his keeper, and I don't wanna keep anybody. I have enough trouble some days keeping myself in check. I don't need someone else's addictions to keep me busy.
I don't know how he is today. Part of me wants to call and see if he's OK, and the other part wishes he would get hit by a bus or something. OK...maybe not THAT harsh, but something to really smack him into realizing that he needs help, and he can't kick the coke and all the other stuff he's on without intervention (i.e. rehab).
I'd never even seen him do a line. Ever. He must be a good "hider".
I hate this. I hate every part of the last 12 hours or so. Once I got home and talked to D and my guitarist friend PP, they didn't lecture me saying, "How could you be so STUPID!?" They were champs about it. But at this point, my disappointment is something I have to deal with myself, just as the slaying of the coke dragon belongs to DD.
I didn't expect my 1000th post to be about this. For god's sake. I wish I was doing more Election '08 goofy captions.
But life has a way of screwing up your plans.