After getting second phase, after 98 days, I thought for sure that I was going home to my mom and sisters in Largo. Going home and making things right was all I was working for. I never once entertained the thought of living with my dad and my asshole stepbrothers. As far as I was concerned they were just extended family.
Executive Staff had other ideas. They were purposely cooking up a way to drive my mother out of the program for good. My mom did not have enough money to pay for my program, and quite frankly was too stupid for the Cult to use for promotional purposes like they did with Wanda Minton's mom and countless others.
Being torn away from my home and normal surroundings was psychologically devastating for me to say the least. The stress and inner turmoil was far worse than even what I encountered in Basic/AIT tank training years later when I went into the Army.
For all intensive purposes I began to go insane and it would come to the surface in the raps. Because I was only on 2nd phase, mostly just 1st and 2nd phasers were ever witness to it. This is perhaps the one period of my program that my memories turn to swiss cheese. I seem to recall that I threw a chair at Dave Searcy when he was just a 5th phaser, and started screaming and yelling about how the program was bullshit because if anyone blamed their childhood or adults in their life for the reason they did things and not the almighty DRUGGIE LIFESTYLE then they would get shot down as quickly as possible. I think that I started yelling about how the program was full of shit and just where in the hell was all the money going? It sure as hell was'nt in our delicious lunches, comfortable chairs, and luxurious air conditioning. I was led to the Think Room and they were damn careful on who they chose to take me there. I think it was Mike Brunette and Mark Bell. Had it been some asshole like Doug Hemminger or Mike Teague, I would probably still be sitting in prison or in Chattahootchee.
After I cooled off and they brought me my lunch, I was led back to group for the 2pm rap. This is when my fucking mind finally snapped completely. I think the rap leaders were both just Staff Trainees because they just let me go on and on. I think the rap was led by Chris Burns (looked like cheap trick) and Marnie Sykes or some other blonde girl. Anyway, Chris stands me up and made the god awful mistake of asking me how I was feeling.
"Is this the real life?" "Is this just fantasy, caught in a landslide no escape from reality."
WHY THE FUCK CAN'T I LIVE WITH MY MOM AND SISTERS?
"Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see.......I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy." EVEN THOUGH IT IS A FUCKIN RULE YOU ASSHOLES! "Because I'm easy come easy go, little high, little low." THAT'S RIGHT, I'M HIGH RIGHT NOW. I DRANK 4 CUPS OF MY DAD'S STRONG ASS COFFEE THIS MORNING AND NOBODY EVEN NOTICED!!! "Any where the wind blows does'nt really matter to me........to me....
and this just went on and on and on for like the next 10 minutes. Why I was not led back to the think room is beyond me. They just let me keep going.........sort of like when they filmed that South Vietnamese general shooting that prisoner in the side of the head in broad daylight. Mrs. Pete did come out into group later, and for the first time in my program, I was scared shitless of her. I did not want to wind up in the nut house so I cooled it as best I could. I really was going crazy and these fuckers actually entrusted me with the care of not one, but two newcomers and Mr. D you was living at Patterson Horizons when all this went down. You had the air mattress that ran along side the bunk beds.
Mark Bell was there too and it was a few nights later when me and him had that arguement and I opened the front door in the pouring rain and told him if he did'nt like the living conditions to hit the fucking road cuz this was'nt the Holiday Inn or some shit. No start over, no refresher, no nothing. Only a crazy person would have done something like that right? So if I did'nt get punished, I must not have been crazy right?
Thank God I finally recieved therapy in my late 30's. The first session dealt with an incident involving my first week at home on 2nd phase when I was tricked into being locked in the room with one very pissed off newcomer from Georgia. My dumbass stepbrother Mike had worked him into a lather, and once the situation was out of control, he ran out the door to call staff like a little pussy. He left me to deal with it. The EMDR I was doing used sound as the catalyst. I wound up breaking the armrest off the damn chair.
It was pretty intense. I had always remembered this particular "Bohemian" incident, but it was so obscure I just never bothered mentioning it until now. With any luck, more and more clients from what I refer to as the Boom Years will come on to the board and things will become more local.
As I mentioned in earlier posts, those of us living so close to 'ground zero' have had to grow much thicker skin as the other clients what with Mel Sembler and Mrs. Pete still living here and everything. Oh well that's enough for now, hope I did'nt bore anyone to drugs.
