DISCLAIMER: First of all, it should be noted that I'm not proud of any of these things. When I go on about them, I'm not bragging, I'm just explaining what happened. I only bring this up because apparently people thought I was showing off, which is NOT the case. I regret these actions more than words can explain. Also, if this tablet does something shitty, and I lose all of this text midway through, I'm going to be so pissed. Also also, I should tell you that I dosed up on about 450mg of DXM about 30 minutes ago. Right now it's 1:14 AM, EST. My writing style may become progressively more fucked up as I go on, and I'm writing from a tablet so it's already pretty slow-going.
My first descent, for anyone who hasn't seen it.
So it all started with a disagreement over how my little brother Elliott should be schooled. I would later learn this was just a misunderstanding. My brother doesn't go to school at all - he will when we move to Florida in a month or so, since we're getting kicked out, but that's another whole story.
Anyway, in lieu of school I thought it would be a good idea for us to at least have some sort of "reading time", where all three of us (myself, my mom, and Elliott) would just sit in silence and read a book of our choosing for 20 minutes, and then reconvene and discuss what we read afterward. That was all well and good; my brother picked some manga he found at Dr K's Books, a local store here in Asheville; my mom of course choose some book in the
Discovery of Witches series by Deborah Harkness; and I chose
The Penultimate Peril, the twelfth book in Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortunate Events.
That was the first book club (I call it that because that's literally what it is). The second one was much different. Elliott already read his manga, but he wanted to read it again for his book. At this point, tensions are already so high with the move coming up, me being on drugs, and me failing to use my free time to apply for new jobs in Florida. I shouldn't have pressed things, but I did. I said we should have a rule that you can't read a book you've already read as your book for reading time, since you're not really gaining any new information from it.
My mom got really mad here, and this is where the miscommunication began. She said that he already had so much going on, between his abusive father, the move, and me being all spaced out on drugs, and that it was so good he's reading anything. In hindsight,
completely understandable. But I, in my fucked up state, thought she meant that we couldn't
ever have a rule like that - that kids should
always be allowed to choose whatever books they want to read. She really just meant for this brief period where we're transitioning from one house to the next.
But it was a
huge fight, and it ended up with her actually saying I wasn't allowed to be in the house anymore. I knew she thought I'd crawl back to her the next morning, so I was determined to not do that.
Anyway, this happened around 7:00 I think, and I still had to work at 11:00 that night, which was actually such a relief. I got the essentials of what I wanted to bring:
The Grim Grotto;
The Penultimate Peril;
The End; my journal; my laptop + charger; my work clothes and some casualwear; my drugs that I take for pleasure (DXM & DPH); my old prescribed drugs that I thought I may as well bring with me, because I figured no one could tell the difference between those (lexapro & busipirone) and real pills like xanax and I could make sone money; my makeup; my razors; some flashlights; a Nalgene full of refrigerated water; my long kitchen knife that I took from my hotel (with the intention of making a sheath for it later); and some nice cologne that someone left at my hotel. I was fully prepared and ready to go.
The first night was easy. I took a bus to the Biltmore area where my job was (I stole a Payday and a can of Coke from the gas station next to the bus station - picked that candy bar because it's mostly nuts). I waited for a few hours at the McDonalds for my shift to start at 11:00. I went online and told Meg (my absolute
best friend everything that happened thus far. I wasn't expecting physical support - she lives in a different state - I just wanted to tell her what was going on and ask her for advice. She was so sad that she couldn't do anything to help, but suggested that I reach out to Facebook friends. I did that, but none responded. I also talked to my grandma, and she said that she thinks that my mom expects me home tomorrow. I told her this wasn't the case (though it probably was), and that she kicked me out for good.
Anyway, I went to work that night and it was hell. I was on drugs and stuttering, but there were like no guests there at all. It looked like I was going to be fine, but at 5am this guy comes to the front desk and says his key doesn't work for his door. I go to cut him a new key, and
of course the touch screen decides to stop working. I didn't realize the guy was super drunk at the time, idk why, But I was freaking out, and I called Rufus, my manager, and told him what happened. He directed me to a certain spot in his drawer where he had a
master key for the entire hotel. So I took that
key and the man with me to try to unlock his door and let him in.
But when I turned the
key into the lock, nothing happened, I tried, and tried, and was just about to stop before the door fucking opened. A guy was there, and he was so mad (understandably) for the disruption. I turn to the drunk guest and he says "maybe this isn't my room". I knew then that he was drunk, and I apologized to that guy so much. The drunk man then told me, "wait, I remember - it's room ____!"(I don't remember the number rn) So, dumb as I was, I went to that room and pretty much the same thing happened again, only this time it was an old black lady. I once again apologized so much, to the best of my ability. I told the drunk guy I would just look up his room in the lobby. He said "I thought you guys were supposed to know all that", which we definitely aren't required to do.
I found his room number, went up there, but the problem still remained that I couldn't figure out how to unlock the door. But then a thought occurred to me, and I turned the
key the
opposite way you'd normally turn a key in a lock - and that worked. The guy rushed into his room and slammed the door without a word after I told him of my success, and frankly, I was glad to be rid of him.
But my work misfortunes didn't end there. While reloading the printer with paper, I managed to completely seperate the paper rack from the printer and I couldn't figure out how to fix it. It took me 30 minutes and literally turning the printer upside-down, but eventually it snapped back into place. The only thing was that the paper width was off, but that's nbd.
So when my relief, Keith, got there, I was so ready to leave even though I have an arrangement with Rufus that I can stay in any dirty vacant room until 11:00. I just wanted out. I told Keith that I got kicked out but that I'd definitely show up to work tonight. I took the bus back to West Asheville (had to lie and say I was a student to get the 50c price instead of the usual $1.00 price since I only had 60 cents), and yeah, at that point I could've went crawling back home, but my pride wasn't beaten into the ground -
yet.
Instead, I went to the railroad tracks where I knew there was a community of homeless people. I went to the far overpass near Waffle House that no one ever seems to go to, and made it my home. I put my books and journal up and around a fixture where no one could ever see them, and also put the rest of my valuables up there. At that point I realized I fucked up by not downloading anything to my laptop, but I figured I'd rectify that.
So I took a few DXM and DPH, which I was actually trying not to take so they would last me until Thursday when I get paid, and I went up all the way over to the highway, to McDonalds to use their wifi. I had no money, but I did bring my card, so I did the trick where you order sonething cheap and try to pay for it with the card, only to go "oh damn, I thought there was money on here - I'll just have an ice water, I guess..." and they give you the water and you're allowed to stay there and use their wifi.
It was raining anyway, but I could only stay there until about 12:00 before I was bored out of my mind. I downloaded two episodes of Martin Mystery onto my computer, and tried to download the entire Totally Spies Movie (all of this is available for free on youtube). But it was too big in size. Ironically, this would turn out to be a good thing, but for that moment I was so happy I had my flash drive in the bag with me.
I took the time to steal two packets of Benezdrex, a stimulant, from BI-LO, as that's the only place around here that carries that product anyway.
I headed back to camp (always wanted to use that Probst line off the cuff), and took half of one of the Benezdrex, more DPH than usual (
EXTREMELY not good), and some DXM. I made myself a comfy place to lay and settled down to watch the Totally Spies Movie.
About 2/3rds of the way through, a familiar face came by - Jon (the oft-mentioned "hobo that you sucked dick for meth" person. In reality, that couldn't be farther from the truth - he's a clean shaven guy, in terms of both his upper and lower body, and just generally takes care of himself). He asked what I was watching, I showed him and all - if you remember, I already told Jon my whole thing with being trans and all that on my first venture. He and I talked for a while, and got caught up on what each of us had been doing, and upon learning I got kicked out, he offered me a place to stay in his tent, which I happily obliged and said I'd meet him there after I was finished with the movie. He was running up to the gas station anyway.
I finished the movie and lounged about for a while, figured I'd just wait for him. I made an actual sheath for the kitchen knife in this time, using one of those cheap plasticy bags from the hotel and the strings that went with it. I pretty much folded it over, then sewed it using the knife and the string. It came out pretty nicely. Eventually, Jon came back and showed me the way to his camp. He talked to me, but same as last time, he talked in such a quiet, rushed way that sometimes it was hard to hear him. Anyway, we made it back to his camp by the stream, and he had such an awesome setup. He went into his tent while I stayed outside and I was excited because I knew what that meant. I broke the ice and went inside, and asked if I could suck his dick. He was already naked, of course, and yeah this guy isn't a "hobo" - he's definitely older in age, around 40/50, but he has such a nice hardened body, has a few classy, well-made tattoos, and, I'm sorry but I have to say, a very large, beautiful dick.
I definitely sucked that without hesitation, like four times over the course of twenty minutes. He and I talked a lot after that, and he was so sweet and wholesome and knowledgeable about so many different things. Eventually, though, he had to leave, and I said I'd see him the next day because I had to work that night. He said to make myself at home and all that. Around 7:30 it was getting late, and I was ready to go. What I didn't realize, though, was that I was sitting there that whole time and the drugs were just taking forever to kick in. And it started drizzling, too. And
then the drugs were definitely kicking in. I found myself not high, but completely dissociated from my body there in the tent. It wasn't even half a football field away from the tracks, but it was way lower than them, and across a river. Being dissociated like that is a wonderful, freeing feeling if you're laying in bed with some music, but it's neither wonderful nor freeing if you're in the woods while it's raining and have to get out.
Anyway, I definitely had to go. I used what little movement I had available in my arms to drag myself and the bag I brought with me (not all my stuff) up the muddy hill, using rocks, trees, roots, and vines as handholds. I fell into the creek with my bag that had my laptop in it. It was hell and I thought I wasn't going to be able to make it up, honestly. But I did, eventually.
Near the end of it, Jon had returned and was calling out to me, asking if I needed help and telling me to just come back down. But it was officially night at that time, and I told him no, I had to go to work, but that I would see him the next day.
Once I got up the hill I was amazed to find not the tracks, but the road. I would realize later that I didnt even need to cross the creek in the first place, and that I was on the same side as his tent anyway. But alas, I did recognize the road, and I made my long, hard, shameful way back home.
I apologized to my mom. We're okay now. She said that Rufus was blowing up her phone the previous day and that he drove all around the Biltmore area looking for me and all that. I called Ryan, my coworker, and told him there was just no way I could make it to work that day. He said Keith told him and Rufus everything and that no one was expecting me to work that day anyway, which I was relieved to hear.
My mom wanted nothing to do with me until the next day when I was sober, which was definitely understandable. I had an appointment to get hormones the next day (today), but my dad's insurance is in flux and he's such a downer and I pretty much accepted the fact that I wasn't going to get them.
At around 3am, though, when I was
sure my mom and Elliott were in deep sleep, I snuck back out so I could retrieve my stuff. This time, though - I went prepared. My limbs were functional, I had a flashlight headstrap thing, some water, a trash bag, and a walking stick.
Getting the majority of my stuff was easy, I just followed the tracks and retrieved my books and bag of valuables from behind the fixture, as well as all of my clothes, which I put into the trash bag. But for some stupid reason, I really wanted my knife/sheath back. So I left both bags on the tracks and went back down there to find it, which was such a fucking bad idea.
I couldn't find the knife at all, and now that I think of it, the river-crossing thing didn't happen the previous day, it happened then. I was on drugs still admittedly and it was dark and I didn't know the way, but I remembered the creek and for some reason thought I had to cross it (maybe because there were so many man-made crossings over it?). In retrospect, my laptop in my bag probably got ruined the previous day when I was sitting around Jon's tent after he left. There was a nice sofa they had set up by the stream, with a pair of shoes on it, and I accidentally toppled the shoes into the lake and went waddling out there with my bag around my shoulders, and tripped/fell. That was all the previous day, I apologize for the dissent.
Anyway, I tried to find my knife, I couldn't, and
that was the time I crossed the river and ended up on the road instead of the tracks. I had my walking stick and limb function that time, so it wasn't nearly as bad. But yeah, it spat me out on the familar road a way back from my house, and it's like 4am now and I'm so thirsty because I lost my walking stick and water bottle down by the river. I go up to this super sketchy bar that's within walking distance of me to see if it's 24/7 or anything like that. This bar is a local place, and it's actually a stretch to call it a bar at all - I went up there once and the lady told me it's a private club, not a bar, and that tons of people think it's a fucking restaurant but it's not.
Anyway, the place was closed, and I did by far the scummiest criminal act I've ever done, right there. I just sat on the chair out front for like five minutes at first to regain strength, but then went around the back. And there were tons of vines and vegetation and shit back there, but there was also a window made out of just an extremely flimsy piece of plexiglass. And behind that plexiglass were tons of stored beers of every type.
I hate beer, unfortunately. I would drink anything to get drunk but that. But I knew who
did like beer - that whole homeless community by the river. So I smashed in the plexiglass and took like 7 Blue Moons and 1 Corona - that was all I could possibly carry. I doubled back up to the tracks, retrieved my possessions, and went home. My mom was still asleep, but she woke up later and said she heard me going out, and asked where I went, and I just told her I went to get my stuff so that no one could take it, and she was fine. I went to bed.
I slept for most of that day, woke up around 7:00 and got a lyft to work. It was pretty low-key; Ryan stayed with me until about 5am, and after I clocked out at 7:00, I was able to stay in my room until like 12:30pm. I wrote to my mom on FB and told her what was up, but her only and main concern was whether or not I was still going to Minnie Jones for my appointment. I told her there was no way they'd accept me without insurance, and that she was free to call them and all that, but that absolutely nothing would be done.
Well, I was wrong. They were able to work with me and they asked me a lot of questions about my gender and all that. I told them I'd been presenting as female on the internet, which is what I think they wanted to hear. So I have another appointment two weeks from now where I'll get my pills. It seems like such a long time to wait, but at first it was going to be a whole
month from now - I had to tell him I was fully committed and wanted them as soon as possible for him to squeeze me in on April 30th.
This was, without a doubt, the best thing that's happened to me recently.Today, I made good on the thought from earlier and went back down to the creek to give Jon the beers, some food, a nice button-up shirt, and some books from my house (including an extra copy of
The Grim Grotto that's not in the best condition. I also figured, hey - why not take that Benezdrex I got from BI-LO before I go? I did that, along with some DXM, but the Benezdrex was a bad choice. The day prior I broke the cotton into two parts and took them at separate points in the day, but this time I thought I was equipped enough to take the whole cotton. I was wrong. It was so gross, and it didn't do anything for me, and I stole a twix from the gas station just to get that god-awful taste out of my mouth. I then went back to the tracks with the intention of just dropping off the bag of goodies at Jon's tent since I couldn't find him anywhere on my way to the station.
But imagine my luck - or maybe karma - I tripped at just the exact wrong spot and my bag fell. Of course, all those beers shattered, except for one, leaving the bag and most of the food (that wasn't in plastic, like the ramen) completely ruined. Surprisingly, the two books I brought were relatively fine. I didn't want to drop a beer-soaked bag in front of Jon's tent, so I fashioned a makeshift bag out of the button-up shirt, and put what survived the fall in it.
I went down to the creek - no one was around. There, I found Elliott's water bottle that I brought with me earlier. I grabbed it, but still couldn't find that knife. Oh well. To this moment, I still have no idea what happened to that kitchen knife + sheath. But I left the stuff there, and wrote Jon a note in
The Grim Grotto. I promised a while back that I would draw the line at stealing from individuals, not companies, but on my way out there was another tent with a really fantastic knife laying there, and I took it as a memento.
That about sums it up! I have some pictures on my phone, of the camp and the note I wrote to Jon, that I'll post if anyone's interested. Since I am definitely moving to Florida next month, this should be the end of my saga with those cool people from the tracks. I know this was a long read, and to those of you who did read it, I hope you enjoyed!
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