Nineteen years ago today

[Majiktrvls]

HI Clay,
I think that I remember your name being called during the dreaded "rollcall" of the mornings. Being of the female persusaion, I was not all that privy to the guys side of life in group. I knew Nevas in Huntsville, as well as many other fine folks who ended up in our own personal prison. Susan, Pam, and I were friends after we  were out amongst the living, I have no idea what happened to them though as we lost contact after a few years.

[Majiktrvls]

BTW.........if anyone sees my boots running around on someone else's legs, please tell them to come home Immediately!!!! My leather jacket, too!!! They were quite expensive, and I still have an issue with losing them! I swear Patti probably has them!!! LOL

[beckyuga]

Majik.....
I remember you very well...(I think -then again, I may have you confused with someone else).  The person I remember had very dark/black hair -their name is on the tip of my tongue...it'll come to me eventually.  Did you like to listen to the Alan Parsons Project (I think that's the name).  Wasn't Margo Shive your foster sister for a while?  
Maybe I'm totally confused; sometimes my memories are a big jumble.
Becky

[Majiktrvls]

Hi Becky,
The name Margo does not ring a bell for me. I was in Atlanta from Jan/84 thru June/85. I lived for the most part at Tracy Baker-Young's home. As for my hair, I cannot remember what color it was back then, although it was most likely bleach blonde when I got there! My name is Cecile, and I had a brother, James who was also in at the same time.
Which Becky are you? Cherry? I remember a Cherry, had a sister in there at the same time.

[Majiktrvls]

On 2002-11-07 21:34:00, Majiktrvls wrote:




I was definitly a mess when I entered that building. There was a kid sitting at a phone in a small cubicle, and me. My parents went into another room to talk to someone, and I went out to smoke. I was instructed to come back into the cube by someone, but I was so fucked up I did not listen.  I had been shooting up  Herion the night before, and Dilaudid all morning before I got there, I was old enough to admit myself, and sick enough to want help. I was not court ordered, I knew I was a mess. I just had no idea what I was getting into. My brother was already in, and my folks were convinced that it was the right place for me to be...I trusted that this place would get me off the needle.  When I got to the intake room, the phasers doing my intake looked like little kids to me. They were all so incredibly young. They were in pink Izods and no make up. I was there in Biker attire, complete with thigh boots and all! I told some woman that I did not think that these kids were ready to hear my answers to their questions, and that I would prefer to talk to someone a bit older.I was not telling them what they wanted to know, in fact, as fucked up as I was,(and Miller Newton would have definitely had a field day with my eyes!!!), I was denying most everything but smoking pot and drinking.  Next thing I knew, Pam Cobb, a druggie friend from my hometown was there, and June Finney was there. Ann Crow was there telling me that it was okay to tell them all of the story. She already knew from talking to Pam that my past included a bit more than smoke, and furthermore what were all the tracks on my hands and arms from.....damn. Patti Johnson was there, she was telling me that the boots would have to go, and I just did not even understand that, I was sure that she would take them and wear them! I refused to come out of my leather jacket, much to the dismay of the Exec who was demanding it. I do believe that my intake was almost 12 hours long, all I know is that I was in there long enough to go into withdrawls from all of the narcotics I had coursing thru my system. It had been a long time since I had gone that amount of time without a needle. Yep, I was a mess.  By that time, I was sick, physically. I demanded to leave with my parents, but they were not to be found. For the price of a cigarette, I would tell them what they wanted to know. At some point, I rattled out all of the drugs that were in my system that morning and all that I could think of taking in the past few days.It was a list from hell.  Enough to "force" them to keep me there. Ann Crow convinced me to give her my jacket, someone took me to a bathroom and strip searched me, took my cigarettes too...ouch! My jacket was gone, my boots were gone, I was throwing up in a trashcan, and sweating bullets, I figured that I needed to be in a hospital for detox. I could not even stand up at that point, could not focus my eyes on anything, all I could think of is how the hell do I get out of here and get a shot. My folks came by to tell me they loved me and to give the place a try.  Apparently, I had held up the group long enough, and I was taken into some huge room with lots of these really young kids in it.....swinging arms, and they all looked just the same. And there I stood, in strange clothes, in a strange land, with strange kids, someone had me by the beltloop, telling the group all kinds of shit about me. They all yelled "Love ya!". And, I threw up.Literally.I did not sleep that nite, neither did the folks in the house. I sweated it, badly. I was so weak I could not have dragged my ass to a door to escape.


The next day, I was definitely sick. There were little green army men crawling all over the room, all over Ann Crow's skirt, all over me. The walls were melting shit on me, and I was definitely in DT's. I awoke in a hospital. There were two of these "strange" kids in the room, speaking in a strange language, and eating ice cream. I tried to get up and go to the bathroom, and was told that I needed to ask first. I told them to fuck off, that I would kick their asses, and went anyways. I dont think they new what to do about that.....I just went, locked the door too. Little did I know how precious that locked bathroom door would be! I spent 10 days being detoxed at some hospital in Smyrna. Nice place, good food, locking bathroom doors!!Upon my return to group, I was convinced that I was fine. I was healed of my drug issue, and was ready to leave. Susan McNitt stood me up and asked me why, Rusty Mcdaniel asked me some questions. I was very foggy. Noone yelled at me,  In fact, during the entire time I was there, even when I copped out and returned, noone ever really yelled at me...I dont know why.. Perhaps because of my age, perhaps because of my being so sick, I have no idea. They immediately put me on a 72 hour hold, of course, and the next thing I knew, I was told that I was courtordered. I spent the next 18 months, 23 years old, legally able to leave, but brainwashed into believing that I was there under the courts order. Damn them for that...


The only good thing that came from Straight for me is that I am not dead. I did much damage to my body before I got there, they did much damage to my head after I got there. Ironic, huh?

Here I am 20 years later, and I am such an entirely different person than I was at that time in my life. I am thankful for that, If I had to do it all over again? No, thanks, I would take some other form of detox. Physical detox at the expense of mental anguish is not my idea of purifying the body.
[ This Message was edited by: majiktrvls on 2002-11-07 21:58 ]"

[ClayL]

Hey Margo! Good to see you are still with the living! Hope you and your brother are doing well!

CL