He Did It - or - "Is there any more SHIT we can pile on to the top..."

He did it.  Parrish took the bus from Miami to Atlanta, but his plans did not work out.  Yesterday, he called me from a pay phone at the corner of 10th Street and North Avenue, his old stomping grounds.

His plan to go to Crawford Long Hospital blew up in his face because it is no longer Crawford Long but a division of Emory.  He said he told them he was mentally ill and needed a referral to Georgia Regional.  They did not do anything.  (Remember.  This is his story). He said he then went to the Dekalb Crisis Center but they wouldn’t take him because he doesn’t live in Dekalb County.  

He wanted to know what to do.  I told him to go to Grady’s ER and see if they would refer him.  I have not heard from him since around noon yesterday.  

It will be no surprise to me if he shows up here in Macon today.  

These “plans” of his were non-plans.  He didn’t make a single phone call to Atlanta to check out the lay of the land.  He never contacted anyone.  When I asked him why he didn’t make some calls from Hialeah, his answer was that he didn’t know the numbers.  No shit.  He said that.  He really thinks that I believe he doesn’t know how to dial 411?

If he can’t get himself committed to the state mental hospital (Georgia Regional), he needs to go to the Salvation Army and see if they will take him into their detox program.  

Yes, I have known for months that he is dirty - either using or drinking or both.  I can tell by his behavior and his speech.  When he is dirty, he calls me several times a day to say slurringly how much he loves and misses me and how I’m all he’s got in the world and that his life is a piece of shit.  When I challenge him on his slurred speech, he blames his medication.  That is followed by a period of silence until I call to check on him.

I can’t imagine that he doesn’t know that I realize all those recent trips to various ERs were drug shopping maneuvers.  He is too sick to know what he knows, and now he is back on the streets.

How do I feel?  I feel as though I have been stabbed - repeatedly.  Though this is not a total surprise, I am still shaken by it.  I need to be thankful that he stayed in Hialeah for 2-1/2 years.  It’s the longest period he has remained in one place since 1995, and I am grateful for that.  But, I’m exhausted, drained, sucked dry of tears.  When I heard from Parrish yesterday, I cried for a few minutes.  No tears since, only the knots of not knowing in my gut. 

I feel sorry for myself.  Since August 24, I have:

1. set myself on fire.
2. had my homeowner’s insurance cancelled because of non-payment while I hold a cancelled check in my hand that proves I paid the premium.
3. had my email account hacked and so scrambled that it took hours to straighten things up and retrieve my contacts. 
4. had Parrish show up in Atlanta.

I feel Like Vinny Gambini in the movie, My Cousin Vinny, when he says “...I don't need this. I swear to God, I do not need this right now, okay?”  And, “...and let me see, what else can we pile on? Is there any more SHIT we can pile on to the top of the outcome of this case? Is it possible?” 

© cjschlottman 2011