I had been on 5th phase for
long enough. I was working right down the street from
the building washing dishes in some restaurant...So, I
decided the night before that I was gonna do it. I had
no money. Even though I carried a paycheck, it was in
a joint account w/ my parents (as was decreed) so I
didn't think I could cash it. Yeah, I was naive. But
I'm getting ahead of myself. So I rode into the
building. It was like early afternoon when I would
walk down to the dishing job. So that was when I did
it - There was a bridge over some railroad tracks that
was calling to me...Down the embankment I went to the
tracks. No turning back now. That was it. I was GONE.
I followed the tracks in the direction that I thought
Baltimore might be. I don't know how far I went before
deciding to venture away from the tracks. Probably at
least a mile. I went into a gas station and walked up
to a few people and asked them for rides. Finally this
black guy who was somewhat older aggreed to let me
ride with him. He didn't try any bulls#!t with me and
got me as far as Arlington. I remember walking for a
while there before getting to the bridge that went
into DC. It was getting dark by then. I had nowhere to
go, so just hung around watching all the jackasses and
their girls 'cruise the strip' in Georgetown
there...Soon I started walking. I walked and walked
with really no idea how I was going to get to Balto. I
ended up in a bad neighborhood. Some guy about my age
and this little punk that was with him approached me.
The guy was smiling at me. It didn't seem right. It
wasn't. He caught me w/ a right to my jaw. Being
scared, I reached in my pocket for the check which I
intended to hand over...They ran off. I heard the punk
say something about a knife. They had thought that I
was trying to pull a knife on them. There was an
older, more respectable looking guy on the street. I
told him what had just happened, that I had split from
a rehab and needed somewhere to stay. Just to get off
the street. He said that he was having his girl over
so he couldn't put me up, and that I ought to consider
going back to my family if I had any. I saw a homeless
shelter and went in. They didn't want to take me
because of what hour it was. I managed to talk them
into letting me spend the night. Not a good
experience, I hate to say. The snoring was
unbelievable, and before going to bed I had to go thru
the shower routine which was creepy. I didn't sleep
that night but at least I was off the street...
So I got up & ate the paste-like oatmeal & drank the
coffee and started walking around DC. It was overcast
and colder that day. I ended up on a college campus
somewhere and looked around for anyone who I thought I
could approach and ask if they knew anyone headed to
Baltimore...let me stop here. If I had had any sense,
I would have just bummed enough money for a bus ticket
and gotten on one. It would have been $15 tops. I know
that now. Anyway, I remember going into the Hirschorn
museum and killing like 2-3 hours in there walking
around and sleeping on a bench. I stayed until it
closed. I remember doing naive, assinine things like
approaching people on the street and asking them if
they knew of somewhere that I could stay. It seems
that a certain apathy had come over me, a certain
hopelessness. I had copped-out, but I was 18 and could
have just withdrawn myself. But I had tried that. I
had already tried that. My sister talked me into
staying. So now I had decided to cop out. It shouldn't
have been all that hard for me to stay out if I had
really wanted to. But getting to Baltimore wasn't as
easy as I had planned. Here I go again, getting ahead
of myself. What bothers me is that I wasn't more
determined somehow. I have wracked my brain, but I
can't explain this. All I had to do was to get to
Baltimore and let the chips fall where they may. I'd
find my old friends in a heartbeat. I walked around
some more. I walked to where I thought the Wilson
center was. (an old all-ages club) It was closed or
shut down. Any money I got my hands on, I spent on
food. I ended up pairing up with this homeless guy on
the street and he told me that he was headed back to a
good shelter. I walked with him. When we got near the
place, I was hesitant about going in. The bums were
threatening him saying that they were going to roll
him for his money. I remember him telling me that he
had been trying to save up so he could get off the
street. I decided to bail. I had had enough of
homeless shelters anyway. It had begun to rain. I was
cold. I decided that I was going to call my mom. I
told her where I was - (at the greyhound station in
DC) She showed up a while later and was crying,
relieved to see me alive, but disappointed too. We
rode back to Baltimore. What we talked about is gone
from memory. I can't remember if I tried to ask her if
I could just stay home and to hell with the program,
or what?this is not going to sound right, but somehow
I didn't really mind going back in. I knew I would be
started over. But it's like I had gotten so used to
being there and the people there that I didn't really
know what else to do. And I was brainwashed enough
that I would have felt guilty for going against my
word and leaving my mom's house on my own. Even after
they lied to me to get me in there. So I went back in
& 7-stepped in about 6 weeks. So then my mom was happy
with me for a couple months until she kicked me out of
the house for something, I'm thinking it was probably
that I had started hanging around with 'druggie
friends'. I would have to ask her to be sure.
So then I stopped going to 7 step meetings & went on
with my life...
