First things first comrades. Happy Labor Day!
When I spent two years at the State Hospital, my check for disability ended. Of course, now the State “took care” of me. Well, I maintained a lovely smoking habit of no less than a pack and a half a day. I bought soda from the coke machine for me and my future husband three times a day. I walked to the store for coffee with sleepy dust in the cracks of both eyes every morning. Needless to say, I required money to navigate my days in this gruesome place.
So, the State Hospital provided an out for poor folk, such as myself. Seriously, they named it WAC, and yes Iobtained a WAC job. I worked in the “accelerated” program where we put things together such as beaded key chains. My 19-year-old buddy and I raced to see how much in 3 hours we could do. Oh my, we outdid one another until WAC paid each of us over $13 dollars an hour. Shameful huh? We worked before lunch for 3 hours and after lunch for two hours. We sat upon our asses and became the Queens of the Wac jobs. Unfortunately, my asshole future husband spent most of my hard-earned cash. Yes, back then I could have been labeled as “docile.”
The State Hospital housed a library in what they called “The E” building. I finally found out an opening existed for the library to help the librarian with putting together packets of information that the doctors requested. So I gave up my rich bitch job, and went to work for the librarian for possibly minimum wage, but I do think I earned a little less than that.
I quit the library job after several months to keep an eye on my future husband. Why? Delusions led to confusion which bred distrust and hostility. Please know, that my ex never lied to me about his drug habit. My history consisted of drug and alcohol abuse too. When we left and moved into a one bedroom apartment, before everything else, he found a doctor to dispense opiates to him. Soon, he and I traded benzodiazepines for methadone or muscle relaxers. I became hooked on opiates. Every day felt laborious, because if I failed to find my drug of choice, I annihilated sobriety with cough syrup (robo tripping) or abusing my meds.
I have five years sober now, but it took a long time to do that. So I live 24 hours at a time, cause the past dissolved, the future is a theory, but the present, well it’s a gift. Have a happy 24!