A Day's Work in Another World

About half way through the shift there was this girl that came in, she was really messed up, like there was a piece of her scalp at the back of her head that had been torn off and two rather deep cuts, one on her forehead and another on her cheek just below the one on her forehead.

She had a needle tucked behind her ear, she was literally jitterbugging around the room. Another girl came in shortly after also doing the jitterbug as well. I just felt such extreme sadness go through me watching these two, they reminded me of tortured animals.  Ever heard the song, "God Damn the Pusher Man!" that song came to mind as I watched these two performing. Wing Walker  fearing that her scrapes might get infected if something should break out she went into the back room. I followed her in then went back out again, I needed to feel this stuff and know it's nature no matter how much it hurt, I knew if I were to keep working at women's shelter I needed to do this.

Then this other girl came in and kept staring at me then she asked me If I had ever been on Welfare, I responded that I did some time back but not here in BC. Then she asked me the same question again and I responded the same answer. She said that I was lying, that the answer was either yes or no, was I ever on welfare? I knew this was a ruse to get me into a fight, I didn't respond, I turned and walked back to the room Wing Walker was in. By this time I was in fear and crying uncontrollably. After a couple of minutes I composed myself and thought if something bad did break out I should be with the other staff out there.

I walked back out and sat out the rest of my shift, arms crossed and legs crossed determined I was not going to move from that chair unless they physically threw me out the window chair and all.

I did it! I got through it with my pride intact actually a couple of notches higher then when I walked in. I was telling one of the girls on staff that I may know how to deal with schizo  but drugs is a whole new deal, last experience I had with drugs was twenty years ago but in some ways schizophrenia has a similar behavior.

I believe that was a job well done for an Empath. I now have a burn more then ever to work with these girls. I have Iroquois blood in my veins from my mother's side and I have also lived for some times on the reservation and may Great Spirit be my witness that I have not see such suffering on the reservation as I have at the women's shelter. They are my sisters by blood and I am willing to do what ever I can in whatever capacity to help my sisters. Yea this is one little empath that has seen much on her journey.

With respect,
Cynthia

That sounds like that was a hard situation to deal with!

The hardest part of dealing with drug issues is that its all a self inflicted deal.  Which makes it very, very hard to change the behavior.

Hi Tekla I do so agree with you, but I am still willing to try to help those who say they do have a desire to get off the stuff, My God when I worked with street people who were addicted to some type of substance or another back twenty years ago I must be realy out of touch with the times, those who were addicted to whatever substance back then did not react in the manner that these girls did at the woman's shelter. It is called crystal meth.

As for drugs well I certainly had my fair share in indulgence of pot. I lived in a hippy commune for a couple of years, 15 years old, ye I was just a kid to then, actually I passed quite well as a girl wearing unisex clothes and such. 
 
I never did develop a jonesing for the stuff though I just smoked it when it was offered to me, and that would mostly be when my boy friend and I were out and about in his Volkswagen mini bus. I came back home for a while then decided to go sightseeing the better half of US and Canada. In later years, in my late twenties, I got hooked on booze, alcohol was my substance of choice. I had found a new escape mechanism from reality. I ended up on the streets for some time and had the privilege of a front row seat to watch the show unravel before me in Technicolor, and I was one of the main character in the play.

This could be a rather long story so I will stop here  I

Cindy

Well part of the problem with the whole just say no jive is that they bunch things together that are not the same.  Pot is not meth, nor is pot like crack.

Hell, pot ain't even pot anymore, the stuff I get today is way, way more powerful than the old hippie dime bags.  Three hits and your out.  It ain't your grandmom's mary jane anymore.

But the white stuff, the coke, the heroin, the crack and the meth (a highly potent form of speed) all leave holes in your soul that once opened I've never seen anyone able to close.  Meth in particular just rips people apart.  Of all the bad drugs, its the worst I think.  One line will keep a person up for days and days and creates its own form of obsessive compulsive behavior in people who were never obsessive or compulsive about anything.  The loss of sleep creates its own world of paranoia.

"Hee, hee, hee. I hear you tekla and I certainly will not disagree with one word you have said. About the drugs, you see the dealings I had with drugs when I was in my teens was from a distance, I did not want anything to do with it, it was scary just watching the others perform but we had a pretty decent bunch in the commune, mostly beer drinkers and pot smokers, but I was so very aware of the other stuff to. Some of the girl that were taken in at the commune were girls off the streets, street workers. Since I was house din the same area where all of the girls were housed, it got scary at times. Some were users and in the summer you could find me sleeping in an abandoned warehouse by myself until my boy friend discovered where I was sleeping.

As a social worker I briefly worked as a dual recovery counselor, which included alcoholics, drug addicts, and by-polar. I only just got to see those who wanted to get off the stuff and you are quite right that once hooked on this stuff their abstinence was short lived. 

Burning holes in ones soul is cerrtainly an accurate description, alcohol can get you there to but I believe the process of deterioration is not as rapid, but yes it burns holes not just in your soul but in the brain as well. One would think one would tire of dealing with les miserables and just go find something else to do. That is impossible if you have the compassion, love, and empathy towards these poor souls. Getting mad? I do not know how to get mad, but I do at times get frustrated, upset, and sad.

Cindy

what a difficult but necessary work you do...
hats off, mate... takes a very grounded person
to stand in the midst of self-destructing humanity.....

i used to worry about my oldest son,
coming from a gene pool rife with
addicted/addictive personalities....
meth was EVERYWHERE, but
i was able to let it go when he told
me that watching his mates literally
disappear into a hellish cycle of abuse
before his eyes because of their enchantment
with that heinous substance made him
determined to stay far away .....

hats off to all who venture so close
to the devastation looking amidst
the victims for survivors.....

Yeah Cindy Meth makes people do some crazy things.  Its scary to even have momentary contact with them in public.  When someone is tweaking they could fly off the handle at any moment and are totally unpredictable.   Here in Billings, Mt the problem isn't too bad but when I lived back in Great Falls it was everywhere.  Good luck with everything you do.

Audrey

Thank you my giggle sister for dropping by and giving me your opinion on meth. Totally unpredictable sounds like a cousin to schizophrenia and this was what I wanted to find out. I had dealings with schizophrenia and I know what  the approach procedure is. 
#1 call someone, an other worker or a professional in psychology.
#2 give them lots of room so that they won't feel like their being cornered, if they do, get out of the way, period.
#3 The approach I have used and has proven to work the best, is to speak softly and soothingly to them.
#4 Do not sit too close while exchanging ideas, but continue to engage them in a conversation to keep their minds occupied. Or just take a chair and sit in the middle of the room and fold your arms and and legs, like good queen Sheba. The last suggestion worked very well.

Cindy