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Thursday, September 24, 2009


He had it coming all along! If you had been there, if you had seen it how could you tell me that I was wrong!

Oh how I hate the thought of my 9th step amends. Like most addicts I have tons of war stories and sketchy shady things I’ve done but one thing that still haunts me is the night I stabbed my boyfriend. I’m sure some of you are saying “I can’t imagine you hurting a fly” and others are thinking: mental note never sit near Tommy again that bitch is crazy!
I don’t think I need to explain to you guys that when this happened I was tweaked off my ass. When I lived in Tucson things really started to unravel but like a good addict I said I could handle it and it was all under control. And like anyone who’s completed the first step knows I am powerless over others and outside things. Well when I’m tweaked I like to think I’m god and have control over the world and being the one who always had the stash I thought I could control and manipulate those around me.

So where do I begin this event? I was preparing to do something I was not supposed to be doing as per federal laws and my boyfriend was trying to get my attention. Now mind you he usually got involved in a project and ignored me so I felt like getting even with him so I choose to concentrate on package I was preparing. In my boyfriends manifestation of paranoia he always accused me of fucking the guys I was doing business with and stuff so as my “client” kept calling me to find out when he could expect his delivery my boyfriend started to get restless and irritated and this fell into my plan perfectly. My goal was to teach him a lesson. I figured once he got to the breaking point I would say “HA see how it feels? This is what you do to me every time we get high! I just want to make love to you and you just want to go wash the car!” I doubt my tweaked brain could form these words anyway let alone a sentence. Some how I stopped doing what I was doing and started concentrating on the boyfriend but I think by this point it was too late he was done with me. We began to argue and push each other and shove. He threatened to call the cops and I flipped. How dare he call the cops on me with the cell phone that I pay for? On the phone that I just bought him, the phone that I still owe t-mobile about $350 dollars for. (Don’t get in on me on financial amends people I’ve already paid back about $5000 dollars and that was just in my first 16 months of struggling to get clean and failing) T-mobile will get there money soon enough. Now where was I? Oh yeah I’m livid that he’s threatening to call the cops and report me on “MY PHONE” that I got him as a gift. So I threaten to call T-mobile to get the line cut off. He goes to make a call and I call t-mobile when in my paranoia think he’s really calling the cops and we start trying to fight the phones out of each others arms.

Then he throws my water pipe on the floor getting glass and perfectly good tina water (I liked to save it for you know what guys, I’m not gonna explain that here my aunt reads this) everywhere. Now here’s another little aside, I have this little hobby of making structures from toothpicks that I learned in architecture class in HS. Because I was working on it earlier that night and because I was doing something with a box that I needed a box cutter I left it on the desk. When my ex and I started arguing and pushing one another I decided to put it in my pocket. I figured incase it got out of control I could scare him off. Well after the shoving match over the phones my brilliant tweaker thinking said pull out the box cutter and chases him out the apartment. I really had no intention of actually hurting him I did and still do love him. Well as I swung the box cutter in the air I must have really scared the living shit out him because he already had his keys in his hand and it so happens that he kept pepper spray on his chain and he sprayed me.

“Have you ever got cum in your eye Gabriel? It BURNS!” Well have you ever been pepper sprayed? It burns WAY MORE! Now between the mixture of smoking a ton of crystal and being up for a while and being in a very evil mood I snapped. I reacted and screamed and started slashing the air. He was already running for the door. There was one moment where I knew I could have swung and sliced him open but I pretended that I was completely blind and slashed the other way to give him a chance to get away from me and I was thinking he’s stop and say “sorry” and help me wash my eyes out. Well he kept going for the door and while running up behind him I closed the box cutter so that just the smallest amount of the blade was protruding so that if I did catch him he would just get a scratch. (I was being thoughtful even after being pepper sprayed I told myself like pulling a blade on my boyfriend is normal not that I didn’t learn this from watching my mother) I should also explain that by NYC standards my apartment was huge a good 650-700 square feet and not NYC square feet but that was the actual size of the apartment so it was a good distance from the kitchen through the dining room into the living room where the from door was. Well he got caught at the door trying to unlock it and I half blind caught the back of his thigh as he tried to kick me away in defense. He got away and I figured I just scratched him. He’d go drive around and come back and everything would go back to normal. We’d keep getting high. I run to the bathroom to wash the spray out of my eyes so that I could hide the obscene about of crystal I had in my apartment just in case the cops showed up.

I look back at this and I’m really disgusted with myself. I wasn’t worried about him or that I stabbed him or that I was just pepper sprayed. My soul concern was to hide my drugs so that I didn’t go to prison and so that if I did get arrested for assault I’d be able to go home and get high again. So I hid the drugs in a pretty good spot cause when the cops showed up they were there for about 2 hours and never found the stash. They found the broken pipe and the box cutter with his blood on it. I tried to lie and tell the cops that he got cut when I threw the broken pipe at him after he freaked out and threw it on the floor. The cops sat with me and opened the windows to help air out my apartment. The cops in Tucson are used to arriving at tweaker incidents’ so they didn’t seem shocked. I assume that my boyfriend informed them that I was a drug dealer and that I was trafficking large quantities of crystal in various ways because they really ransacked my apartment. I hadn’t gotten my living room furniture yet so they really only tore up my bedroom kitchen and bathroom (and no I’m not telling you where I hid the stuff but it will be in the book so if you know a publisher get me a book deal and we’ll talk) and I thought it was hysterical when they pulled the little zip-loc baggie of catnip out and asked me what it was. I explained that it was for my cat Pete. They weren’t buying it but I told them to smell it and look at the cat react to it. When they started to search my apartment I realized or was just paranoid enough about the whole situation that I decided to pull one of my Jedi mind tricks (cause I know how to manipulate very well). I said to the cop that my boyfriend probably told you I was a drug dealer cause before he flipped out he started saying crazy stuff like that and he started accusing me of being some big dealer from NYC. (IMAGINE THAT) The cops asked who’s stuff were we smoking so of course I played little mister innocent and said it was only the 3rd time I’d ever done it and that my boyfriend introduced me to it. I told them that I was a good kid from NYC. Well they bought some of the horse shit I was feeding but not all of it. They found the box cutter and just like a CSI episode they sprayed it and there it was 3 little speckles of blood proving that I cut him with the box cutter. On went the cuffs…

I admitted that I threw the box cutter at him but it was after he broke the pipe and started screaming at me. Now mind you I might have also said something like I broke the pipe because I didn’t like this stuff and how it was making us act so that I could make myself look like the martyr. Either way my ass was in Tucson’s version of central booking. It was this big room I had to have a cavity search. I literally had to spread my ass cheeks so that the guard could see right up my ass. They didn’t stick any fingers up me but I saw them or rather heard them do it someone else that came in behind me. All I could think of was am I gonna crash while I was in jail. The system is different in Tucson I thought I wasn’t gonna get out till Monday morning since I got arrested on a Friday night but they released me about 12 hours later. So the next morning after getting my court date I made my way back home and all I could hope for was that the cops didn’t find my stash. Now here’s the slick thing. There are no pay phones near the jail. I walked about 2 miles to the corner store where I called a cab and went home so that I could get high and that’s what I did. By the time I got home my apartment had aired out and the pepper spray had finally worn off and I could breath. So I breathed in a bunch of hits and did that the rest of the weekend. I was sentenced to anger management that I never went to and one more amends I still have to pay the Tucson court fees. None of this stopped me from using, in fact me and the boyfriend got back together that same week. We went right back to our same old routine. Things continued to get worse but I’ll talk about that later.

What’s so funny to me not ha ha funny but karma funny is that even with this was not a big enough bottom for me to get clean. In fact 2 years later still using after I moved back to NY and health complications I developed a ingrown hair that got infected in my thigh that has left a scar that looks just like the one I gave my ex. It’s just on the front of my thigh. I wasn’t high when I got my scar. I was sober 2 months at the time and felt the incision that the doctor made. The addict in me wants to say my scar is bigger and hurt more since I wasn’t high when they cut me open but the reality is I had it coming!


  1. Jeeeeez, Tommy! Just before reading this I was cleaning up my email boxes and ran into drafts I wrote MY ex when high. One, written May 2007, was after our only fight in five years together. It included shoving, but no weapons, and ended when he grabbed a blanket and locked himself in his son's room (his son was away). Yeah. I still love him too, and still trying to make sense of it all (when I'm not trying to let go of the past and LIVE in the present!).

    We had it coming. But what's a boy to do now?

  2. Here's another thought. When we're in Recovery, we like to attribute our bad behavior to the drugs and feel grateful we're not like that anymore. As awful as that morning in May 2007 was, however, I experienced much worse from my mother on a routine basis, and she was never high or drunk. We have this shit in us. Tina just fueled its expression.

    The work continues in sobriety. In fact, it goes deeper, and that's the beauty of the fellowship.

    Thanks Tommy!

  3. Thanks Wallace you're so right about that. I have always had a short fuse but without drugs I was always able to control my temper so as easily as my addict mind gets frustrated with the tools of recovery I can now look at what and why I'm feeling like that without taking it out on other people or myself