Con-fused

   After reading my last post I wondered who it was written by. You guessed it, Me. Hell, I wrote it and have read it three more times and I have confused myself. If you have noticed the title to this post has a hyphen. I spent almost 10 years in prison for drugs, thus, con. I started taking drugs as a way to deal with my post traumatic stress. I have read, recently, that a lot of our soldiers are dealing with the horror they experienced overseas the same way. It makes me sad to hear that the military has not addressed the problem in a much quicker and proficient way. My PTSD occurred when they did not even have a name for it. Also, my PTSD did not result from combat duty. It is still the same. Some have worse cases than others. It seems, as I have read, that the best way to alleviate the symptoms is to use drugs, whether prescribed or illegal. It was so easy for me to get narcotics because of my medical background. I was consuming  massive amounts of narcotics until I was discharged from the Air Force. Upon leaving the Air Force the drugs were harder to get, as you can imagine. That is why I spent so many years of my life locked away in prison. I would go to any lengths to get the drugs that would quiet the Monster inside me. My prison life started in the early 80's after I returned home from Okay City. I write it like that because I really enjoyed living in that town. My brother and I decided it was time for me to go back to Alabama so he gave me $75 dollars for a bus ticket. After he left for work I walked down to my buddy's apartment and bought a gram of some meth. He had a few spare  needles and I used one immediately and started walking to the truck stop, grinding my teeth all the way. It did not take me long to catch a ride with a trucker. He carried me all the way to Memphis, Tn. via I-40 East. I crawled in his sleeper to do me a shot before I started walking. I must have walked 10 miles when a Tenn. State Trooper stopped. I told him that I thought this was the volunteer state. He kindly replied that it was. I asked why no one would volunteer to give me a ride? He took me all the way to the border of Mississippi, which wasn't but another 10 miles. I had not walked 30 minutes when I got another ride to Corinth, Ms. It was late at night, raining and I was at the last red light in town. If I did not stay there and try to get a ride it would tough to get one on that curvy 2-lane road plus it was 25 miles to the next town in Alabama. I made me a sign and stood at the last stop light when the Corinth's finest pulled up and informed me that I was loitering and I had to move on. Well, I tried to explain how difficult it would be to get a ride if I started walking. He kindly told me that was my problem and I had to go. Damn! I asked if I could use the restroom before I depart on my journey and he agreed. I Went into the bathroom of the last store in Corinth and done me a big ole shot of that meth and came out to tell him I appreciate the hospitality and off I walk. I was right about no one picking me up. I walked all the way to the first town in Alabama and came upon a gas station that had a Volkswagon seat sitting out front. The owner asked me where I was headed, I told him, then asked if I could sit in that chair for just a few minutes. Sure. I was asleep before my ass hit the seat. It was about 4 hours later when the owner woke me up and asked, again, where I was headed. I told him and he introduced me to a fellow that was headed to the same place. How lucky is that. I asked the gas station man if I could use his restroom and, you guessed it, I did me a shot. It was about 4 hours later the man took me to my house. I expressed my gratitude very much. Later I found out the Bus took 24 hours to go from OKC to Gadsden, Al. and it took me 27 hours. The bus only beat me by 3 hours.   theblogmeister