Spring RTS Engine

So I had a bit of a shitty dilemma today.

An old friend of mine, Jason, called me up a couple of days ago. He said he was going to be in town and wanted to hang out... he said he was enrolling in the seminary in St. Augustine, and he'd be arriving in Jacksonville on the train Monday night.

I called him up on Monday, he seemed fine, I offered to give him a ride to St. Augustine so he wouldn't have to call a cab. He said he had a hotel in St. Augustine to stay at.

Let's stop here for a moment. Jason is a good guy, but he's a colossal fuckup. He's 35 or so, he was a heroin addict for a long time, kicked the drug, went to school (where I met him), started taking pills, graduated, got a good job in Miami, and quit after 6 months or so. The last time I saw him was in September, right after he'd quit his job. Basically what happened: he showed up at my door in Orlando at 11 at night, trashed. He'd packed all of his belongings in his car and driven up from Miami. I told him he could sleep on the couch if he wanted; he wanted to sit on the porch and chat.

Let's stop again. Jason's brain is so fucking addled from the years of heroin use that any situation that stresses or alters the brain, however mildly to a normal person, makes him completely non-functional. After 3 drinks, when a normal person might have a loosened tongue and a warm fuzzy feeling, Jason is narcoleptic (falls asleep randomly while standing/sitting/talking/whatever) and incoherent; he'll start mumbling, fall asleep for a couple of minutes, wake up, and then mumble random, unrelated, complete nonsense. So we might be talking about the weather, he'll fall asleep, and then wake up and mumble "did you get new tires yet" or something completely random like that.

Back to the porch. We "talk" as described above for a while. I get up to go use the restroom. When I get back, Jason is snorting a line of heroin off my table. Obviously this is not cool with me; I don't want anything to do with heroin, and I certainly don't want it in my house. I proceeded to get him out of my place - no yelling, just steering him towards the door, saying "see you later", and closing and locking it and ignoring his knocking two hours later. The next time I saw him was about noon the next day; he had parked his loaded SUV in the parking lot outside my apartment, his stuff was strewn all over the place (turns out he had left his heroin container, minus the heroin, on my porch, and was looking for it), and he was talking to a cop. Naturally I wanted nothing to do with the situation. (Un?)fortunately he was not arrested, and he left town at some point later that day or early the next day.

Back to our story. I get to the train station, Jason's standing in front of it, totally zonked out. He says he hasn't slept in 48 hours. It seems reasonable that sleep deprivation would do the same thing to his fried brain as a little bit of alcohol, and he was certainly acting that way. I ask him which hotel he wants me to drive him to. He says that the cab driver took fifteen dollars. I ask him again, where is his hotel. He says that we have to wait for the driver. He's pretty insistent on this point, and isn't responding to my queries about his hotel, so I consent to wait. Twenty minutes pass. No cab driver. Jason curses and says that the cab driver took his money. After some questioning, it's revealed that Jason gave a cab driver some cash to buy him cigarettes. The cab driver in question eventually returns, much to my relief, as I didn't want to wait around forever for a non-existent, imagined cab driver to appear and deliver money/cigarettes to Jason.

We get in the car. I again inquire as to where we are going. He says he wants to go to the bar and then promptly passes out. I prod him back awake. When Jason's in this state, I've found that he is lucid for about 30 seconds after you wake him up from a mini-nap. I ask him again, where is your hotel? He says he doesn't have a hotel and says he wants to crash at my place, then drive to the "Franciscan seminary" tomorrow.

I live with my parents and have two younger brothers. My parents are a bit paranoid, and they know that Jason is a druggie. I know damn well they wouldn't want him in their house. I don't want him in my house. Nevertheless, he is a friend, and I don't have anywhere else to take him, especially not at midnight. I drive him 40 miles to my house (incidentally, halfway to St. Augustine from the Jacksonville train station). He, thankfully, sleeps the entire way. We finally get home, I guide him to my room, he says he has to go to the bathroom, I show him to the restroom. Ten minutes later he's still in the restroom. He has a tendency to fall asleep in there. I rustle him out and guide/push/drag him to my bed, where he crashes down and immediately falls asleep.

At this point I'm thinking, mission accomplished, he'll be coherent tomorrow. However, I don't particularly want my parents to know that he's there, and I'm afraid that in his semi-insane state he'll wake up and stumble his way to other parts of the house, so I stay awake all night and make sure he doesn't. Finally, around 8 AM my parents and brothers have left for the day, and I get about an hour of shut-eye on the couch before Jason wakes me (actually, a Jehovah's Witness banging on the door wakes me; Jason wanted to let me sleep even though I specifically instructed him to wake me up when he gets up). We go out onto the back patio and smoke a cigarette. Halfway through he starts his mumble/sleep/mumble cycle. Uh-oh. He's high on Xanax. Fuck. He asks me how many pedestrians I hit. I tell him that I haven't hit any pedestrians. He asks me about Father John's drinking problem. I tell him I have no idea who Father John is. He's rather perturbed by my lack of Father John knowledge and tells me that Father John is the one with the drinking problem. I tell him I have no clue what he's talking about.

At this point I just want to get rid of him. I herd him out the front door. He struggles for 20 minutes to get his shoes on and tied. Finally I get him into the car. I'm thinking that I can take him to this "Franciscan seminary" and they'll take care of him from there. We stop at the gas station, where I attempt to get directions, but nobody's heard of it, I can't find any seminaries in the phone book, and a search on a friendly man's Blackberry turns up nothing.

We get down to St. Augustine. Jason has no idea where he's going, of course. I decide to stop at the St. Augustine Cathedral; this is either where he's going, or at least somewhere to get directions. Nobody in the cathedral has heard of a "Franciscan seminary". I left Jason in the car; I return to the car and he's gone. I spot him stumbling across a park in front of the cathedral; I walk quickly to catch up with him, but by the time I can he's already inside the church. I go in and he's standing around, I tap him on the shoulder and he takes off his hat, I tap him again on the shoulder and he looks at me. I ask him where we're going. He does the Catholic holy water-cross thing and goes out the door; I follow him. He stumbles along the road, and I walk next to him. Finally we stop in a deserted alleyway. This is the conversation that followed:
Me: So where are we going?
Jason: unngh
Me: Where do you need to go?
Jason: uh...
Me: You need to go to the Franciscan seminary, right?
Jason: yeah
Me: Where is it?
Jason: *shrugs*
Me: I asked in the cathedral and nobody recognized the name. What is it called?
Jason: unngh... don't remember...
Me: What is the building called?
Jason: call... need to call Andrew
Me: Is Andrew with the Franciscans?
Jason: yeah
Me: Can you give me Andrew's phone number so I can call him and ask for directions?
Jason: *fumbles with phone*... how often?
Me: What?
Jason: how often did you go?
Me: Go where?
Jason: ugh
Me: Can I please have Andrew's phone number?
Jason: *fumbles more with phone*... phone not working... need to call them...
Me: OK. Do you have a plan, how are you going to get there?
Jason: benches
Me: Uh, what?
Jason: benches... sit... let's sit on the benches
Me: OK.
*we walk to the benches outside the church*
Jason: *sits down, nods off*
Me: *prods Jason* Jason. Where. Do. You. Need. To. Go.
Jason: i dunno

At this point comes a dilemma. I have on my hands a completely non-functioning person. He has no idea where he is, where he's going, or anything like that. I can't take care of him; I'm not his caretaker, I'm not his mother, he's 35 years old and ought to be able to care for himself, and I have no way to care for him. He needs some serious help. An intervention or something. I have zero capacity to perform an intervention.

However, one would assume that the St. Augustine Cathedral has at least a little capacity to deal with this sort of thing. All I know is that Jason wants to go somewhere Catholic-y. This is the biggest Catholic-y place in St. Augustine.

The dilemma is, what do you do?

Here's what I did: I took his bags out of my car, took them to him, put them on the bench next to him, prodded him half-awake, and told him that the people inside the church could help him. I then drove home, turned on the computer, and came here to vent.

I figure I had to unload him somewhere. The church seemed as good a place as any. It was either that or the police station. Keeping him was not an option.

Thoughts?

TL;DR:
-Off-and-on druggie friend comes to town.
-He says he's going to the "Franciscan seminary" in St. Augustine.
-I pick him up at the train station to take him to the hotel. He doesn't have a hotel. I let him sleep at my place.
-He's completely non-functioning as a person, incoherent, and narcoleptic, because he's high as a kite on Xanax.
-I can't figure out where he's going. He doesn't know where he's going. Nobody knows where he's going.
-I ditch him at a Catholic cathedral in St. Augustine.
-What would you do in this situation.

I have long since cut all associations like that out of my life and I am exceptionally stern about that sort of thing because I watched a guy stone himself stupid. My only thought it is to harden your heart and move on.

I'd check back a few days later to see if he's still sleeping there. If he's gone, assume he's alive. If he's still there, assume he's dead.

The church might have some way of helping him, but from my experience, churches don't generally have a specific program for rehabilitating drug addicts and most of them would recommend calling a crisis hotline or putting him in a mental hospital. A priest might have more information or be helpful to him.

I'd say that you shouldn't associate with him anymore either. You're probably not qualified to handle this sort of thing and it doesn't sound like he's being considerate or friendly to you at all even if he is messed up.

Woah... I guess I'm glad I don't know anyone so drugged out.

I would do what Panda said and send him to a mental hospital. Ive been to one once, and they are completely willing to keep a drug addict for a very VERY long time. Free food, place to stay, someone to care for him; its the perfect solution.

Vabor wrote:Ive been to one once

Ah ok, thanks for explaining. Makes sense now.

The only thing that can help this guy is detox.

You're not cut out for that. You can't take his drugs away, you can't keep him from behaving badly, and you can't keep hiding him from your folks.

And even if you had a place of your own, big bodyguards to take his smack and Xanax and Valium and Whatever and make him behave, you're almost certainly not qualified to get this guy through detox without a serious risk that he might die or have other serious medical complications. He's not a sick kitten. He's a grownup man with a very serious health problem, and you don't have the background.

It's a no-win for you, to try dealing with this by yourself. Get support.

First, I'd tell your folks about what's up. They'll be unhappy, but maybe show them what you've written here- it's well-organized and it explains what you were thinking, probably better than you can do verbally.

Second, if he returns, which may or may not happen (there's a bit of a mystery here- where's his SUV?), he needs to go somewhere to detox. This may or may not have to involve the police, because if he's like a lot of people at the gutter-end of drug abuse, he's not likely to react well to the idea that he needs to go through detox procedures, which aren't fun.

Third, there's nothing about being compassionate that requires you to be this guy's keeper. Obviously, he wanted something from you in that sense, even if your name and address were the only things that surfaced in his drug-addled brain... and obviously, you feel a lot of conflicting emotions- on the one hand, you're probably angry about all of this, on the other hand, you're probably feeling a certain amount of obligation. That's normal, and it's OK. But you need to take deep breaths, remind yourself that you cannot possibly get this guy cleaned up, and if you have to deal with him again, you need to do some homework about what's possible and who can take control of the situation.

This might be helpful, as a starting-place:

http://theagapecenter.com/Treatment-Centers/Florida.htm

I'd also call the cops, if he shows up again, and explain to him that people are coming to help him out with his situation while you wait.

You might even want to call them now, and ask them what to do (preferably from an anonymous number or a pay phone, of course). Don't give them your name, his name, whatever, just ask them for advice. You might be surprised- they'd probably be delighted that somebody gave a shit and didn't just let this guy wander off to his doom (or get in that SUV and kill somebody), and offer you some very useful advice about what to do, who to call, etc., that wouldn't result in him going to jail. Remember, cops don't like dealing with drug abusers much. They know, like everybody does, that it's basically a disease, and they also know that their particular powers of coercion aren't very effective on those folks. So they'd probably be very happy if you got their advice, and found a non-violent way to get this guy into detox of some kind.

Guys like that steal a lot, including (sometimes especially) from friends. Whatever else you decide letting him in the house unsupervised isn't an option. In fact I'd be checking for missing stuff now if I were you (for all the good it'll do but at least you'll know why it's missing and won't have to try remember where you might have lost it six months from now).

Watch your shit when he's over. People like that are kleptos.


You're doing a good thing, but he needs real detox and intervention. You cannot handle that.

bash him on the head and store him for when it's winter and there is nothing to eat.

best regards,
Virtual FlashMob.

SpliFF wrote:Guys like that steal a lot, including (sometimes especially) from friends. Whatever else you decide letting him in the house unsupervised isn't an option. In fact I'd be checking for missing stuff now if I were you (for all the good it'll do but at least you'll know why it's missing and won't have to try remember where you might have lost it six months from now).

guess how i ended up staying in my dads garage for 2 months at the start of last year.

meth-junkie flatmate cleaned out the flat account and *forgot* (or something i never got a straight answer out of her) to pay the rent for 6 weeks (i was co-signed on the lease), not even mentioning the 3 or 4 weeks of rent she owed from before that. not a fun way to lose almost $2500 :/

"One of the things you learn from years of dealing with drug people, is that you can turn your back on a person, but never turn your back on a drug. Especially when it's waving a razor-sharp hunting knife in your eye."

In your situation, if this used to be a good friend, I would probably put him in a spare room after removing everything from it, tie him to the bed and not let him out for 3-4 days, just give him food and drink 4-5 times a day and put a tv on during the day.

I wouldnt feel any kind of guilt for doing that either, because if his entire life is stumbling around between next hits of the drug he may as well be dead; it'd be doing him a favour. once hes cold turkey he should be well enough to push off, and if he decides to resume his addiction at least it wouldnt be your problem

1v0ry_k1ng wrote:In your situation, if this used to be a good friend, I would probably put him in a spare room after removing everything from it, tie him to the bed and not let him out for 3-4 days, just give him food and drink 4-5 times a day and put a tv on during the day.

Very bad idea, depending on exactly what drugs he has an addiction to. Xanax withdrawal can result in death. This is not something to be handled outside of a rehab facility.

2 of my friends have died from drugs.

I would implore you to try and swallow whatever feelings of anger and resentment you have, and do everything within your capability to get him admitted to a professional care facility.

I am absolutely not trying to guilt you in saying this, just saying what I would do.

It is very easy to look at somebody with a chemical dependency and withdraw the usual levels of compassion and patience you would reserve for a clean person who has come to you for help, but I think it is worth bearing in mind that someone so clearly out of it is basically at the mercy of anyone who tries to impress their will upon them.

You have no inherent debt to the guy, beyond the fact he is your brother man, and he is clearly in need of some support.

Answering some questions...

The SUV: got hit by a drunk driver and totalled. It actually belonged to his parents (or to his sister? I forgot), so he didn't get the insurance money. He had some money saved up to buy a new car... but instead of doing that, he lent it to his then-roommate, who was doing coke and needed money to pay off his dealer. I have no clue how you live in the drug culture for 20 years and still not know the rule "don't lend money to a cokehead". Obvious result: he lent $2000 and got around $500 back.

Clarification: we talked on the phone on Saturday when he was completely sober, which is when I arranged to pick him up at the train station and give him a ride to his hotel. Obviously I didn't know at the time that he was still on pills. He's stayed clean for long periods before.

Theft: he's never done anything malicious before. Needless to say, I did do a check, nothing's gone. He did help himself to some food, which I suppose is technically "theft", but a lot of people automatically assume that you won't mind if they take your food, especially if you already gave them somewhere to stay.

Further story: he called me about 8 times yesterday afternoon, and left many messages... most of them didn't make any sense, because of a bad connection + mumbling into the phone. I gather that he wasn't aware that I'd left him there hours earlier... the only thing that would make sense is that he completely lost his concept of time and thought I'd left only minutes earlier. There was something about me carrying a bag of rice to the bank (?). Needless to say I neither picked up the phone nor called him back.

In retrospect, I should have alerted a cathedral employee to his presence.

You may be able to anonymously call a Cathedral employee, alert them to his presence, and inform them of his drug addiction, if you're worried about him committing suicide or being a danger to someone over there. He might still be there for all you know.

A teaspoon of radium will fix your friend up in no time!

I doubt he has the capacity to kill himself albeit deliberalty, possibly accidentally. But yes, this is bad company to keep, avoid like the plague and cut ties once you know hes alright.

have a cookie for your troubles