S2, Account 4: Cory
After graduation, I guess things fell easily into place for me. I got a well-paid graduate job, myself and my girlfriend moved in together (much to my parent’s dismay I might add), but they got over it quickly. I am their crown jewel after all. And then things started to fall apart.
No-one knows. I’ve been an expert at hiding this for years. And with the money I’m earning now, well, now I can get the best of the best of it. I first tried it shortly after Cordell went to the young offenders institution. My dealer, he suggested it to me. Told me I was wasting my time and money buying the children’s highs I was into — ketamine, ecstasy — said it was time I upgraded, and he gave me a sample. And I fell in love with cocaine. When I was high it was like my life was no longer a circus of grief, loss and parental pressure. As long as I was high I could forget that my sins ostracised my brother from our family and sent him into the lion’s den. When I was high I became Cory the achiever, Cory the model son, Cory the embodiment of his parent’s dreams, perfect, darling, Cory…and Cory the liar, Cory the kidnapper of his brother’s future, Cory the imposter was smothered and silenced. When I was high, the tears fell less, and the smiles appeared more. The more I took, the better I felt.
I wasn’t a fool. I knew this habit could quickly get out of hand, so I made sure I only bought what I could afford, and on special occasions I took more. And gradually what was a weekend only occurrence, became a daily habit. By the time I graduated, I could just about afford to keep taking it as much as I was, without becoming desperate. Once I got my new job, I now had the funds to sustain the level of the habit I had developed.
But something has changed. Cocaine is no longer making me forget. It’s making me remember.
Sometimes I wake up at night screaming my brother’s name because I’ve had a nightmare where he’s been shot to death on the street and I try to step in between him and the gunman, but when I look down, the gun is in my hand and it is me who has shot my brother. After those nightmares I can spend a few hours crying in my girlfriend’s arms. I’m so tired. I don’t want to carry this anymore.
After that message at my graduation, later in the evening when I was finally alone in my room, I called it, just to hear my brother’s voice, I wanted to speak to him, but the line was dead. It was dead every single time in the 25 consecutive days I called it after. That hurt. I knew why my brother did that, he didn’t want to make life difficult for me, but I’ve never been the same after he left, and that continual sense of loss makes me dizzy with a pain and regret I medicate with coke.
I had a particularly bad trip recently. Truth be told, I shouldn’t have been taking coke with the state my mind was in. I had barely slept, work had been very intense, and I had been fighting with my girlfriend who had started to realise something wasn’t right. I was in a bar after work, I went to it alone, it’s one of the ones I frequent when I don’t want to speak to anyone, I just want to hit and have no-one I know recognise me if my high gets out of hand. It had been a rough day, my personal demons were having a field day with me, and I took more than I should. I was in a complete frenzy. At some point I felt hands lifting me up under my armpits, there was something very familiar about them, I felt like I was put into a car, and when I woke up I was in hospital. Cordell was watching me and holding my hand with unfathomable pain in his eyes. My throat constricted, and utter shame and regret crashed around my skull. I wanted to die. And I cried until I could cry no-more. Since then we’ve kept in touch, and though he’s made it clear that he does not blame me for anything, my personal demons assault me every day, and I don’t know what to do but to medicate more.
Today is a bad day. I look at my life and I don’t recognise it as something I wanted; I hate my job, my girlfriend will leave me soon, I can see clearly now that I’ve lived my life for my parents, I don’t know who I am, I don’t know who I am, I don’t know who I am. I need more today, to block this out. I’m going to take more, and everything will be better. But first I will message my brother and tell him that I love him. I wonder how many people in his world tell him that and mean it. At least he will know that I do. And that I’m sorry.
Originally posted. November 29, 2020