Post by Rated R on Dec 17, 2011 15:57:06 GMT -5
DECEMBER 22nd, 2009
ONE WEEK SOBER
There’s a lot of things that people don’t tell you about withdrawal. I mean yeah, they tell you that it’s going to be difficult, but they never really yell you anything. Not the specifics. Now maybe that’s because most people never have to go through it. Or maybe it’s because if they told you about the headaches and the insomnia, about the constant feeling that your having a heart attack, about the anxiety and the muscle tension, then maybe, just maybe, people wouldn’t quit in the first place. And as I sat there in that pitch black room, praying that somebody would just put me out of misery, I thanked god that I’d spent the past three years two high to really research how hard it was to quit.
My silence is broken by knocking on the door. But I don’t answer it. I can’t bring myself to get up off of the bed and walk to the door. My heart feels like it might explode if I do. More knocking. I try to ignore it, but it’s persistent.
Wayne McGurk: Trace, I’m coming in, okay?
His voice comes through the door, taking away the last vestiges of the silence that I’ve tried so hard to maintain. If it’s silent then you can forget where you are. You can forget what’s going on. It made things easier not having to focus on anything other than trying to keep my heart at a steady pace. Now I’m back in the real world, and I don’t like that world too much right now. The door opens slowly and he switches on the lights. They blind me for a moment before my eyes manage to adjust. Thank god he didn’t catch me in the middle of a migraine. I probably would have throttled him to death.
Wayne McGurk: You look terrible.
Usually I would have made some sarcastic witty comment but I’m not even capable of that at this moment. I can’t remember if it was because my mind couldn’t hold a thought long enough of if my throat was so dry that I couldn’t get the words out. All I remember is sitting there, hoping he would leave me to my wretched life.
Wayne McGurk: Here, I brought you some water.
I snatch it out of his hand and gulp it down greedily. It’s only water but it burns the back of my throat like sandpaper. It’s been hours since I’ve had a drink but it feels like days. That’s another thing people fail to tell you. That when you’re in withdrawal every single second stretches out like its eternity itself. I’ve only been here a week but it feels like years. I feel like I’ve been stuck in here while my entire life flies by outside these four walls.
Wayne McGurk: Have you gotten any sleep?
Trace Demon: Can’t.
I force the words out. I’ve barely spoken in the past week. Barely able to hold a cohesive thought long enough to say it out loud. I haven’t taken anything since I woke up at Wayne’s seven days ago and it’s killing me. People always tell you how difficult withdrawal is but you never really believe them until you go through it yourself. It’s why when people ask me about it I don’t give them the details because they wouldn’t really be able to grasp what it actually means. I just tell them that it’s the worst I’ve ever felt. And with some of the things I’ve experienced that is really saying something.
Wayne McGurk: Insomnia is one of the symptoms. It’ll fade.
Trace Demon: It f*****g better.
Wayne put me up in his spare room for the first week. The professionals advise that you don’t leave a recovering addict alone for the first few weeks and, as my latest false heart attack came to an end, I understood why. If they’d left me my phone I’d have already found a way to get some more pills even though Vanessa threatened to cut my fingers off if I even attempted it. She’d do it as well. That women has always been crazy.
Wayne McGurk: You’re doing well. And it’ll get better.
Trace Demon: I’ve spent the past three years getting stoned out of my skull. I’ve got some girl pregnant and I’ve also been cheating on her with her own sister.
When you put it like that, I was a freaking mess. And to think the company had just put the tag titles on me and Thunder and that I was scheduled for a heavyweight championship match the following month. That is some terrible booking. I blame the owners.
Oh...
Trace Demon: It can’t get any worse.
Wrong. It can always get worse.
Wayne McGurk: Well, it’s good to see your attitude hasn’t changed much.
Trace Demon: Was that an attempt at a joke?
Wayne McGurk: Didn’t like it?
A glare gives him his answer. He shakes his head. He’s had to put up with my crap for a week non-stop. Agreed to let anybody who rang know that I was safe but not to tell them where I was. I didn’t want people seeing me like this. It would destroy the last fragments of respect they had for me. And since I didn’t have any respect for myself at that very moment, I needed all of it that I could get.
Wayne McGurk: Um, look, Vanessa wanted me to talk to you...
He sighs. I know what’s coming. I’d heard them arguing about it earlier. Hell, I’m surprised they’ve put up with me this long.
Trace Demon: She wants me gone.
Wayne McGurk: It’s not that she doesn’t want you to get better. You know she does. It’s just Scarlett. She doesn’t think it’s a good idea to have a...
He pauses. He doesn’t know what to say. It’s hard to find the right words when you’re dealing with somebody in withdrawal, especially the early stages. The mood swings are terrible and mixed with the lack of sleep... the littlest thing can set you off. He’d caught me in a non-destructive mood that day but it could easily have been a different story if he’d just come in an hour earlier.
Trace Demon: You can use the word addict you know. It’s not taboo.
He sighs again. Wayne’s always been one for over dramatics.
Wayne McGurk: We’re not just gonna kick you out. I mean, Christmas is in a few days and...
Trace Demon: Just give me a day and I’ll be out of your way.
Wayne McGurk: You don’t have to rush off Trace. We want to make sure you get better.
Trace Demon: I said give me a few days. I’m tired of your house anyway. Only so many times I can listen to Scarlett playing Christmas music before I try and fly like a reindeer right off the roof.
Wayne McGurk: Where are you gonna go?
Trace Demon: Home. The apartment.
Wayne McGurk: Do I look stupid?
There’d have been a time when that would set up an easy joke. But I wasn’t in the mood to take it. He was right not to let me head off on my own. I was still stuck in that awkward middle period of acute withdrawal where all my problems would go away if I took a pill and I could forget any of this had ever happened. And I’d have done it right then, just to feel some normality again.
Trace Demon: Fine. Call my sister. She’ll come get me. She’s scarier than Vanessa anyway.
A hint of a smile on the edge of his mouth. First smile I’ve seen in a while. Not exactly had much to smile about recently.
Wayne McGurk: Alright. And I rang that Narcotics Anonymous meeting I was telling you about, they’re expecting you next week.
Trace Demon: Great, a room full of people going through this. That’ll be a barrel of laughs.
Wayne McGurk: You said you’d go.
I simply nod. At that moment I didn’t have any intention on going to that meeting. I didn’t think that I’d ever feel better than I did that moment. But the one thing people do get right about withdrawal, the one thing everybody always tells you...
It does get better.
But it never goes away.
< *** >
NOW
My old apartment. It’s been over two years since I’ve lived in this place. I’ve been paying the rent to remind me of the mess that I used to be. To remind myself of what I can’t become again. Today marks two years since I quit using and with my little girl around it feels like the best time to rid myself of the last vestiges of what I used to be. Plus it’ll be a good story to tell at my narcotics anonymous meeting later today.
Everyone offered to come with me. Alexa, Liam, Wayne, Axel, Faith. All of them. But this was something I had to do on my own. I know they’ll worry about me being here on my own. About what it might do to me, but for me this is the last test. This is the one place that could tip me over the edge. It’s the one place I can truly conquer that demon once and for all.
One thing people don’t tell you about addiction is that it never really goes away. You still have mild withdrawal symptoms for up to two years after you quit using. Mood swings, varying amounts of energy, a lack of sleep. They’re all things that you have to cope with. Sometimes you can go weeks or months without feeling a single thing. And then you’ll wake up and it’ll hit you. That’s what usually causes the relapses. Those days where your cravings come back and no matter how small those cravings are they’re still there. They’re still digging away at you. It’s a never ending battle.
The apartment is surprisingly clean. Axel and Faith came round to try and clean it up back when I thought I’d be able to live here again. Back when I didn’t see the need to move out. It wasn’t until I tried to spend the night here that I realized I couldn’t do it. If it isn’t for Faith spending the night in the spare room I would off relapsed. I came so close. I rang my former dealer. He came to the door, handed me the stuff and I was just about to pop the pill when Faith stopped me. I’ve never been able to thank her enough for that.
I’ve organized for a moving crew to come down tomorrow, to get rid of all of the furniture left over. So I figured it’d be good to come down. To get one last look at the place. I walk around, remembering all of the nights I spent here off my face with whatever girls were stupid enough to come back with me. I still can’t understand how I fell into the darkness as far as I did. I can’t even remember how it started.
Well, that’s a lie. I can remember. I remember a twenty year old having just made his debut in the WFWF. A clueless kid with the idea of stardom thinking he was more important than he actually was. Thinking he was invincible. I remember a nightclub, a fake ID, girls, alcohol, and a man selling pills and pocketful of dreams. It sounds stupid but I never thought I could become the type of person who was reliant on a substance. I never thought I’d be like my father...
I walk into my old bedroom. The sheets are still there from that night, crumpled on the floor. I pick them up and throw them into a black bin liner. There’s no point in keeping them. I pull open the draws, checking that I haven’t left anything else. I’m sure they’re all empty but I don’t want that awkward moment where that sex tape with the totally un-famous reality star that I thought I’d destroyed is actually rolling around in a draw waiting for the removal men to find it.
They’re empty... all but the last one.
The last draw isn’t empty, and as I pull it open and I see those familiar white tablets inside a small plastic bag I regret that I ever came here.
I pull the bag out of the draw and hold it up in front of my eyes. As much as I try I can’t look away. You see, you never quite get over an addiction. It’s always there in the back of your mind, gnawing away at you as it tries to get to the surface. Trying to eat you alive.
You never get over an addiction. And as I looked at those pills I knew I’d never have a bigger moment in my life.
< *** >
TWO HOURS LATER
A narcotics anonymous meeting looks exactly what you’d think it would look like. A group of men and women sitting inside a room talking about how their life is. People underestimate just how important these meetings are though. Without people around you who understand exactly what you’re going through it would be so much harder to cope. Over the past two years these people have been as important to me as anyone, because they’ve kept me on the straight and narrow. They’ve reminded me that it is possible to conquer your addiction.
Today is an important day for me. Today marks two years to the day since I last took a pill. I haven’t told any of my friends or family. Not even Alexa. I didn’t want the fuss, the hassle. They act like it’s something important and they’d make a big deal out of it all. But to me it’s just another day of fighting. Another day of coping. And this place, this is my sanctuary from all of that. From all of their worrying and concern about how I’m doing.
Still, even without them it’s a bit of a big deal. And what big deal doesn’t involve a speech? So as I stand in front of all of those people who have seen me at my best and my worst, heard the very worst things that I have done and told me that it’s okay, I can’t help but think about the apartment. About those pills...
Trace Demon: I held pills in my hand today.
They look at me and in their faces I see every single expression I expected. Some get nervous just from hearing it. Especially the newer additions who are still suffering the worst withdrawal symptoms. Others look at me with pity, knowing how hard it’s been for me and thinking that I’ve fallen on such a noteworthy day. Others, well others just don’t look surprised, and that’s heartbreaking enough.
Trace Demon: I went back to my old apartment. Figured it’s time to stop paying rent on the place that holds some of my most shameful memories. I thought it would give me closure. But in one of the draws I found an old baggy of pills. I thought if I ever saw pills again I’d have been able to just walk away, but it isn’t that easy, is it? I mean, I held that pack in my hands and the urge... the urge was so strong, so overwhelming. I didn’t see that coming.
You see, I’ve always thought that I had the strength to get over anything. I’ve coped through so much that I thought... I thought I could do it. On my own. That I could just walk into that place and everything would go just fine. And then I’m stood there with these pills in my hand and suddenly I’m as weak and pathetic as I’ve ever felt. I’m right back to being that twenty year old who let the world get on top of him... I’m right back to being the man who ruined lives because he couldn’t control himself when somebody gave him a little white pill.
Addiction doesn’t go away. We all know that. And we’ve all been where I was today. It’s what you do in those situations that matter. It’s those situations that make you realize what you’re capable off. If I had found those pills one year ago then I wouldn’t be standing here in front of you, two years sober. Hell, I might not be standing in front of you at all. Because one year ago I didn’t have what I have now. A loving girlfriend. A beautiful little girl. I didn’t have anything, and I finally realize that is what I was searching for with the pills. I was just searching for something to make me forget how alone I was.
I held those pills in my hand today... and I thought of my little girl. She’s only a month old but already she has done more to help me that I ever did to help myself. Because when I thought of her I realized that I can do this. I found the strength to walk into the bathroom and flush those pills. You see, I’m a different man to who I was two years ago. I’m a different man to who I was last year. And that is what keeps me from relapsing. Because I’m not the same person, because I don’t need to be the same person.
Because I finally have a life to be proud of.
< *** >
JANUARY 4th 2010
I won the WFWF World Championship yesterday. Can you believe it? I can’t. I still can’t, nearly two years to the day. I shouldn’t have won it. I’m still suffering from mild withdrawal symptoms. It was a miracle that I even got to that arena. It was the first match I’ve had where I haven’t popped a pill before in years. But still, I became the world champion. And that means something I guess.
Doesn’t mean I didn’t still have problems to solve.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Footsteps echo from behind the door before it creaks open and Katherine pokes her head out. She sees me and immediately goes to shut the door in my face but, having learnt a lot from Jehovah Witnesses’ in my time, I stick a foot in the door.
Katherine Dawson: Go away Trace.
Trace Demon: I’m not here to cause a scene, I just want to talk.
Katherine Dawson: Well then call up a substance abuse hotline, I’m sure they’d love some repeat business.
Trace Demon: Too late, I’m clean.
Katherine Dawson: Bulls**t.
Trace Demon: Three weeks now. Let me in?
She hesitates for a moment. She doesn’t believe me and it’s a fair enough assumption to make. I wouldn’t have believed me either. But that hesitation was enough for her mind to switch over to my side and she opens the door up, letting me into her apartment. I only know where it is because I crashed here a few nights when we ended up in bed together. It’s the only place I could think of to find Anna.
Trace Demon: Thanks.
Katherine Dawson: Just don’t make me regret this.
Trace Demon: I’m sure you’ve got enough regrets about me to last you a lifetime.
You see, three weeks ago Anna told me she was pregnant with my child and I haven’t seen her since. I didn’t even try to, not even when my head started clearing up. Plus Faith wouldn’t let me out of the house on my own. In fact she’s outside the apartment now waiting in the car. I wasn’t ready to be a father but I wasn’t just about to run away. I wasn’t that much of an bunghole. At least I don’t think I was.
Trace Demon: Is she here?
Katherine Dawson: No.
I can’t tell whether she’s lying or not. I’m not sure if I want to know. If she was staying with Katherine then she was probably going through the same withdrawal hell that I was and I doubt it was a pretty sight to behold.
Trace Demon: But you’ve spoken to her.
Katherine Dawson: I’m her sister. Of course I have.
Trace Demon: How is she?
Katherine Dawson: Not great. Where the hell have you been the past three weeks?
Trace Demon: Staying with my sister. Cleaning myself up.
I leave out the bit about the three day bender that I can barely remember. I doubt that would paint me in a positive light.
Katherine Dawson: So you’ve never heard of a phone?
Trace Demon: Would you have answered?
Katherine Dawson: No, but I wasn’t talking about me.
She was, but she won’t admit to that. I don’t know how somebody in the state I was in ended up bedding somebody like Katherine, especially when I was already screwing up her sisters’ life. I mean Katherine... she’s got sense, she’s got a brain, she isn’t stupid. Which makes it very hard to come up with a plausible explanation with why she would sleep with her sisters’ drug addict boyfriend on more than one occasion. I guess, when it comes down to it, everybody wants to do something crazy. Some people are just better at hiding it than others.
Trace Demon: I couldn’t talk to her. I was enough of a mess without hearing her voice.
Katherine Dawson: She’s carrying your baby.
I don’t say anything. I couldn’t think of anything to say if I wanted to. It sounds ridiculous now but I didn’t have any right raising a child, at least not with Anna. A kid deserves loving parents. Parents that actually give a crap about each other. I didn’t have that and look how badly I turned out.
Katherine Dawson: Do you even care about her?
I look at her, a look that says it all.
Katherine Dawson: You’re a b*****d, you know that?
Trace Demon: Yeah, I do.
Katherine Dawson: So what, you’re just going to ignore her, pretend that you didn’t get my little sister pregnant because you dosed her up with pills.
Trace Demon: I’d never abandon my own kid, but I can’t be with her. We aren’t meant to be together.
She doesn’t argue against that. She’s been saying the same thing for the last four months, ever since I met the two of them in that dank nightclub in New York. Katherine has seen the very worst of me. She’s seen me drugged up out of mind. She’s seen that I’m more than willing to cheat on her sister, even if it is with her.
I wouldn’t want my sister with anyone like me so I can’t blame somebody else for feeling that way.
Trace Demon: And what about me and you?
I try to brush a stray stand of hair out of her face but she slaps my hand away.
Katherine Dawson: There is no me and you, there never has been.
She’s speaking quietly, almost whispering. I couldn’t tell why at the time. Maybe if I knew, things would have been different.
Trace Demon: That isn’t what you were saying when I was f*****g you!
Did I mention the mood swings?
Anna Dawson: What?
I turn around to see Anna standing in the doorway to Katherine’s bedroom. She was six weeks pregnant at the time. I hadn’t heard the door open but I didn’t need to be a genius to know whether she’d heard us or not. I should have known that Katherine was lying about whether Anna was here or not, but as I see the look of shock on Katherine’s face I can tell that she didn’t see this coming.
Anna Dawson: What the f**k is he talking about?!
And so began the worst month of my life.
< *** >
Trace Demon vs. Hutton Brown 3. Well let me just say that... it’s about f*****g time! You see Hutton, I’ve been waiting for this day for seven, long months. Ever since you beat me and evened the score at one a piece... ever since May 13th Hutton. You see, this will be the third time we’ve faced off and this... this just isn’t any old match. This isn’t about the International Championship. This isn’t about moving on to the next stage of some tournament. No. In fact, that doesn’t really matter to me right now. That’s just a... lucky extra, a bonus. No, what matters to me Hutton... the only thing that matters to me right now... is you, and what you’re going to do for me.
There are very few men who have managed to get under skin as much you have Hutton. In fact, in over four years of working in this business I can only count four of them. Only four men who I want to fight in that ring as much as I do you. And right now... right now three of those four are currently right here in the WFWF. Oh, don’t I feel lucky right now. But you see Hutton, there’s something different about you. There’s something different to those other three. Because with them I just want to hurt them... I just want to break their legs and watch them cry... watch them cry like little girls as they beg for me to stop beating them. I just wanna... rip their heads off. Just laugh as they scream in pain.
Sorry, I got a little bit... carried away there.
As I was saying, while I genuinely want to hurt them, you... there’s something different... something that I don’t quite like. Because you... you I don’t hate Hutton. I don’t despise you. Hell, I kind of... I kind of consider you a friend. And that, that is rare for me Hutton. Because usually, when I step into the ring with someone, I just want to kill them. But hey, hey, what am I going to do? What am I going to do fighting somebody I consider a friend? What am I going to do fighting somebody that I respect? Oh yeah, that’s right, I’m going to do the same thing that I always do. That I do to every single f*****g person! I am going to hurt you!
It doesn’t matter to me Hutton, it really doesn’t. You could be my friend, you could be my brother, you could be an elderly war veteran in a wheelchair but when they step into that ring everybody is the same to me. Everybody... is just another person who I can f**k up. Your all the f*****g same to me! But I know what you’re thinking. Yeah, I know exactly what is running through your head right now Hutton. You’re thinking that if you can beat me once, then you can beat me again. But I’m here to tell you right now; that the person you fought before... the person who beat you on February 28th... the person you beat on May 13th... he’s gone. He’s dead. I buried him.
The person you thought you were facing... is no more. What stands in front of you is somebody who has been pushed to the edge. Somebody who is sick and tired of being at the bottom of the pile. Because it seems Hutton... it seems that no matter what I do, it just isn’t good enough. It just... isn’t... good enough. Do you know how that feels Hutton? Do you?! Do you know how it feels to walk out to that ring and just be another face... another nobody who doesn’t have a chance? No... No, I don’t think you do. It doesn’t feel great... it doesn’t feel great at all. But don’t worry. Because you... you get to do something very special. You get to help me. You... get to be my example.
My example to the entire f*****g world about what I am all about. I am not going to be overlooked by the likes of these f*****g people anymore! I am sick of it. All of these people... all of them, with their home comforts and their benefit cheques, they think that they have the right to judge me. But they don’t. And you don’t. Nobody has the right to judge me! Nobody! But it’s okay... you don’t have to worry any more. Because you get to help me make my point. My point that it doesn’t matter who you are, whether I respect you or not because at the end of the day... I’m going to hurt you. I’m going to watch you suffer... and bleed... and beg.
Two years ago, I quit taking pills. I quit... and my life got better. But there’s always been something missing. There’s always been this... emptiness. And I just couldn’t figure it out. What could it be? So this week I held them... they were right there in my hand. Pills. Beautiful little white pills. And I thought to myself, are these what’s missing? Are these all I have been missing in my life? I mean I have a girlfriend, I have a kid, how in the world are these little pills what’s missing? So I sat down, and I had a nice long think about it. And I came to a conclusion.
Do you want to know what that conclusion was? I know you do. I realized, that the pills meant nothing. That I didn’t miss the pills. No. I missed the thrill. I missed feeling invincible. That feeling when you step into a room and you look around and you think... nobody in this room could touch me. That’s what was missing. That is what I’ve been craving. And so, I found a way to find that feeling again. A way that doesn’t involve popping pills or drinking alcohol. I found a way to get that feeling without slowly killing myself.
I realized that if I go into the ring, and I make you scream... I make you beg, that I will feel invincible again. So that’s all I’ve got to do. I just need to hurt you Hutton. I feel better already, just knowing that I get to twist and break you in ways people have never witnessed before. So I hope you’re ready. I hope you’ve got a good doctor waiting for you. Because... I respect you, and I like you... but I’m going to break you. I’m going to hurt you and I’m going to enjoy every last second of it.
So until then Hutton. Enjoy yourself. Go out for a run or something... while I still let you.
ONE WEEK SOBER
There’s a lot of things that people don’t tell you about withdrawal. I mean yeah, they tell you that it’s going to be difficult, but they never really yell you anything. Not the specifics. Now maybe that’s because most people never have to go through it. Or maybe it’s because if they told you about the headaches and the insomnia, about the constant feeling that your having a heart attack, about the anxiety and the muscle tension, then maybe, just maybe, people wouldn’t quit in the first place. And as I sat there in that pitch black room, praying that somebody would just put me out of misery, I thanked god that I’d spent the past three years two high to really research how hard it was to quit.
My silence is broken by knocking on the door. But I don’t answer it. I can’t bring myself to get up off of the bed and walk to the door. My heart feels like it might explode if I do. More knocking. I try to ignore it, but it’s persistent.
Wayne McGurk: Trace, I’m coming in, okay?
His voice comes through the door, taking away the last vestiges of the silence that I’ve tried so hard to maintain. If it’s silent then you can forget where you are. You can forget what’s going on. It made things easier not having to focus on anything other than trying to keep my heart at a steady pace. Now I’m back in the real world, and I don’t like that world too much right now. The door opens slowly and he switches on the lights. They blind me for a moment before my eyes manage to adjust. Thank god he didn’t catch me in the middle of a migraine. I probably would have throttled him to death.
Wayne McGurk: You look terrible.
Usually I would have made some sarcastic witty comment but I’m not even capable of that at this moment. I can’t remember if it was because my mind couldn’t hold a thought long enough of if my throat was so dry that I couldn’t get the words out. All I remember is sitting there, hoping he would leave me to my wretched life.
Wayne McGurk: Here, I brought you some water.
I snatch it out of his hand and gulp it down greedily. It’s only water but it burns the back of my throat like sandpaper. It’s been hours since I’ve had a drink but it feels like days. That’s another thing people fail to tell you. That when you’re in withdrawal every single second stretches out like its eternity itself. I’ve only been here a week but it feels like years. I feel like I’ve been stuck in here while my entire life flies by outside these four walls.
Wayne McGurk: Have you gotten any sleep?
Trace Demon: Can’t.
I force the words out. I’ve barely spoken in the past week. Barely able to hold a cohesive thought long enough to say it out loud. I haven’t taken anything since I woke up at Wayne’s seven days ago and it’s killing me. People always tell you how difficult withdrawal is but you never really believe them until you go through it yourself. It’s why when people ask me about it I don’t give them the details because they wouldn’t really be able to grasp what it actually means. I just tell them that it’s the worst I’ve ever felt. And with some of the things I’ve experienced that is really saying something.
Wayne McGurk: Insomnia is one of the symptoms. It’ll fade.
Trace Demon: It f*****g better.
Wayne put me up in his spare room for the first week. The professionals advise that you don’t leave a recovering addict alone for the first few weeks and, as my latest false heart attack came to an end, I understood why. If they’d left me my phone I’d have already found a way to get some more pills even though Vanessa threatened to cut my fingers off if I even attempted it. She’d do it as well. That women has always been crazy.
Wayne McGurk: You’re doing well. And it’ll get better.
Trace Demon: I’ve spent the past three years getting stoned out of my skull. I’ve got some girl pregnant and I’ve also been cheating on her with her own sister.
When you put it like that, I was a freaking mess. And to think the company had just put the tag titles on me and Thunder and that I was scheduled for a heavyweight championship match the following month. That is some terrible booking. I blame the owners.
Oh...
Trace Demon: It can’t get any worse.
Wrong. It can always get worse.
Wayne McGurk: Well, it’s good to see your attitude hasn’t changed much.
Trace Demon: Was that an attempt at a joke?
Wayne McGurk: Didn’t like it?
A glare gives him his answer. He shakes his head. He’s had to put up with my crap for a week non-stop. Agreed to let anybody who rang know that I was safe but not to tell them where I was. I didn’t want people seeing me like this. It would destroy the last fragments of respect they had for me. And since I didn’t have any respect for myself at that very moment, I needed all of it that I could get.
Wayne McGurk: Um, look, Vanessa wanted me to talk to you...
He sighs. I know what’s coming. I’d heard them arguing about it earlier. Hell, I’m surprised they’ve put up with me this long.
Trace Demon: She wants me gone.
Wayne McGurk: It’s not that she doesn’t want you to get better. You know she does. It’s just Scarlett. She doesn’t think it’s a good idea to have a...
He pauses. He doesn’t know what to say. It’s hard to find the right words when you’re dealing with somebody in withdrawal, especially the early stages. The mood swings are terrible and mixed with the lack of sleep... the littlest thing can set you off. He’d caught me in a non-destructive mood that day but it could easily have been a different story if he’d just come in an hour earlier.
Trace Demon: You can use the word addict you know. It’s not taboo.
He sighs again. Wayne’s always been one for over dramatics.
Wayne McGurk: We’re not just gonna kick you out. I mean, Christmas is in a few days and...
Trace Demon: Just give me a day and I’ll be out of your way.
Wayne McGurk: You don’t have to rush off Trace. We want to make sure you get better.
Trace Demon: I said give me a few days. I’m tired of your house anyway. Only so many times I can listen to Scarlett playing Christmas music before I try and fly like a reindeer right off the roof.
Wayne McGurk: Where are you gonna go?
Trace Demon: Home. The apartment.
Wayne McGurk: Do I look stupid?
There’d have been a time when that would set up an easy joke. But I wasn’t in the mood to take it. He was right not to let me head off on my own. I was still stuck in that awkward middle period of acute withdrawal where all my problems would go away if I took a pill and I could forget any of this had ever happened. And I’d have done it right then, just to feel some normality again.
Trace Demon: Fine. Call my sister. She’ll come get me. She’s scarier than Vanessa anyway.
A hint of a smile on the edge of his mouth. First smile I’ve seen in a while. Not exactly had much to smile about recently.
Wayne McGurk: Alright. And I rang that Narcotics Anonymous meeting I was telling you about, they’re expecting you next week.
Trace Demon: Great, a room full of people going through this. That’ll be a barrel of laughs.
Wayne McGurk: You said you’d go.
I simply nod. At that moment I didn’t have any intention on going to that meeting. I didn’t think that I’d ever feel better than I did that moment. But the one thing people do get right about withdrawal, the one thing everybody always tells you...
It does get better.
But it never goes away.
< *** >
NOW
My old apartment. It’s been over two years since I’ve lived in this place. I’ve been paying the rent to remind me of the mess that I used to be. To remind myself of what I can’t become again. Today marks two years since I quit using and with my little girl around it feels like the best time to rid myself of the last vestiges of what I used to be. Plus it’ll be a good story to tell at my narcotics anonymous meeting later today.
Everyone offered to come with me. Alexa, Liam, Wayne, Axel, Faith. All of them. But this was something I had to do on my own. I know they’ll worry about me being here on my own. About what it might do to me, but for me this is the last test. This is the one place that could tip me over the edge. It’s the one place I can truly conquer that demon once and for all.
One thing people don’t tell you about addiction is that it never really goes away. You still have mild withdrawal symptoms for up to two years after you quit using. Mood swings, varying amounts of energy, a lack of sleep. They’re all things that you have to cope with. Sometimes you can go weeks or months without feeling a single thing. And then you’ll wake up and it’ll hit you. That’s what usually causes the relapses. Those days where your cravings come back and no matter how small those cravings are they’re still there. They’re still digging away at you. It’s a never ending battle.
The apartment is surprisingly clean. Axel and Faith came round to try and clean it up back when I thought I’d be able to live here again. Back when I didn’t see the need to move out. It wasn’t until I tried to spend the night here that I realized I couldn’t do it. If it isn’t for Faith spending the night in the spare room I would off relapsed. I came so close. I rang my former dealer. He came to the door, handed me the stuff and I was just about to pop the pill when Faith stopped me. I’ve never been able to thank her enough for that.
I’ve organized for a moving crew to come down tomorrow, to get rid of all of the furniture left over. So I figured it’d be good to come down. To get one last look at the place. I walk around, remembering all of the nights I spent here off my face with whatever girls were stupid enough to come back with me. I still can’t understand how I fell into the darkness as far as I did. I can’t even remember how it started.
Well, that’s a lie. I can remember. I remember a twenty year old having just made his debut in the WFWF. A clueless kid with the idea of stardom thinking he was more important than he actually was. Thinking he was invincible. I remember a nightclub, a fake ID, girls, alcohol, and a man selling pills and pocketful of dreams. It sounds stupid but I never thought I could become the type of person who was reliant on a substance. I never thought I’d be like my father...
I walk into my old bedroom. The sheets are still there from that night, crumpled on the floor. I pick them up and throw them into a black bin liner. There’s no point in keeping them. I pull open the draws, checking that I haven’t left anything else. I’m sure they’re all empty but I don’t want that awkward moment where that sex tape with the totally un-famous reality star that I thought I’d destroyed is actually rolling around in a draw waiting for the removal men to find it.
They’re empty... all but the last one.
The last draw isn’t empty, and as I pull it open and I see those familiar white tablets inside a small plastic bag I regret that I ever came here.
I pull the bag out of the draw and hold it up in front of my eyes. As much as I try I can’t look away. You see, you never quite get over an addiction. It’s always there in the back of your mind, gnawing away at you as it tries to get to the surface. Trying to eat you alive.
You never get over an addiction. And as I looked at those pills I knew I’d never have a bigger moment in my life.
< *** >
TWO HOURS LATER
A narcotics anonymous meeting looks exactly what you’d think it would look like. A group of men and women sitting inside a room talking about how their life is. People underestimate just how important these meetings are though. Without people around you who understand exactly what you’re going through it would be so much harder to cope. Over the past two years these people have been as important to me as anyone, because they’ve kept me on the straight and narrow. They’ve reminded me that it is possible to conquer your addiction.
Today is an important day for me. Today marks two years to the day since I last took a pill. I haven’t told any of my friends or family. Not even Alexa. I didn’t want the fuss, the hassle. They act like it’s something important and they’d make a big deal out of it all. But to me it’s just another day of fighting. Another day of coping. And this place, this is my sanctuary from all of that. From all of their worrying and concern about how I’m doing.
Still, even without them it’s a bit of a big deal. And what big deal doesn’t involve a speech? So as I stand in front of all of those people who have seen me at my best and my worst, heard the very worst things that I have done and told me that it’s okay, I can’t help but think about the apartment. About those pills...
Trace Demon: I held pills in my hand today.
They look at me and in their faces I see every single expression I expected. Some get nervous just from hearing it. Especially the newer additions who are still suffering the worst withdrawal symptoms. Others look at me with pity, knowing how hard it’s been for me and thinking that I’ve fallen on such a noteworthy day. Others, well others just don’t look surprised, and that’s heartbreaking enough.
Trace Demon: I went back to my old apartment. Figured it’s time to stop paying rent on the place that holds some of my most shameful memories. I thought it would give me closure. But in one of the draws I found an old baggy of pills. I thought if I ever saw pills again I’d have been able to just walk away, but it isn’t that easy, is it? I mean, I held that pack in my hands and the urge... the urge was so strong, so overwhelming. I didn’t see that coming.
You see, I’ve always thought that I had the strength to get over anything. I’ve coped through so much that I thought... I thought I could do it. On my own. That I could just walk into that place and everything would go just fine. And then I’m stood there with these pills in my hand and suddenly I’m as weak and pathetic as I’ve ever felt. I’m right back to being that twenty year old who let the world get on top of him... I’m right back to being the man who ruined lives because he couldn’t control himself when somebody gave him a little white pill.
Addiction doesn’t go away. We all know that. And we’ve all been where I was today. It’s what you do in those situations that matter. It’s those situations that make you realize what you’re capable off. If I had found those pills one year ago then I wouldn’t be standing here in front of you, two years sober. Hell, I might not be standing in front of you at all. Because one year ago I didn’t have what I have now. A loving girlfriend. A beautiful little girl. I didn’t have anything, and I finally realize that is what I was searching for with the pills. I was just searching for something to make me forget how alone I was.
I held those pills in my hand today... and I thought of my little girl. She’s only a month old but already she has done more to help me that I ever did to help myself. Because when I thought of her I realized that I can do this. I found the strength to walk into the bathroom and flush those pills. You see, I’m a different man to who I was two years ago. I’m a different man to who I was last year. And that is what keeps me from relapsing. Because I’m not the same person, because I don’t need to be the same person.
Because I finally have a life to be proud of.
< *** >
JANUARY 4th 2010
I won the WFWF World Championship yesterday. Can you believe it? I can’t. I still can’t, nearly two years to the day. I shouldn’t have won it. I’m still suffering from mild withdrawal symptoms. It was a miracle that I even got to that arena. It was the first match I’ve had where I haven’t popped a pill before in years. But still, I became the world champion. And that means something I guess.
Doesn’t mean I didn’t still have problems to solve.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Footsteps echo from behind the door before it creaks open and Katherine pokes her head out. She sees me and immediately goes to shut the door in my face but, having learnt a lot from Jehovah Witnesses’ in my time, I stick a foot in the door.
Katherine Dawson: Go away Trace.
Trace Demon: I’m not here to cause a scene, I just want to talk.
Katherine Dawson: Well then call up a substance abuse hotline, I’m sure they’d love some repeat business.
Trace Demon: Too late, I’m clean.
Katherine Dawson: Bulls**t.
Trace Demon: Three weeks now. Let me in?
She hesitates for a moment. She doesn’t believe me and it’s a fair enough assumption to make. I wouldn’t have believed me either. But that hesitation was enough for her mind to switch over to my side and she opens the door up, letting me into her apartment. I only know where it is because I crashed here a few nights when we ended up in bed together. It’s the only place I could think of to find Anna.
Trace Demon: Thanks.
Katherine Dawson: Just don’t make me regret this.
Trace Demon: I’m sure you’ve got enough regrets about me to last you a lifetime.
You see, three weeks ago Anna told me she was pregnant with my child and I haven’t seen her since. I didn’t even try to, not even when my head started clearing up. Plus Faith wouldn’t let me out of the house on my own. In fact she’s outside the apartment now waiting in the car. I wasn’t ready to be a father but I wasn’t just about to run away. I wasn’t that much of an bunghole. At least I don’t think I was.
Trace Demon: Is she here?
Katherine Dawson: No.
I can’t tell whether she’s lying or not. I’m not sure if I want to know. If she was staying with Katherine then she was probably going through the same withdrawal hell that I was and I doubt it was a pretty sight to behold.
Trace Demon: But you’ve spoken to her.
Katherine Dawson: I’m her sister. Of course I have.
Trace Demon: How is she?
Katherine Dawson: Not great. Where the hell have you been the past three weeks?
Trace Demon: Staying with my sister. Cleaning myself up.
I leave out the bit about the three day bender that I can barely remember. I doubt that would paint me in a positive light.
Katherine Dawson: So you’ve never heard of a phone?
Trace Demon: Would you have answered?
Katherine Dawson: No, but I wasn’t talking about me.
She was, but she won’t admit to that. I don’t know how somebody in the state I was in ended up bedding somebody like Katherine, especially when I was already screwing up her sisters’ life. I mean Katherine... she’s got sense, she’s got a brain, she isn’t stupid. Which makes it very hard to come up with a plausible explanation with why she would sleep with her sisters’ drug addict boyfriend on more than one occasion. I guess, when it comes down to it, everybody wants to do something crazy. Some people are just better at hiding it than others.
Trace Demon: I couldn’t talk to her. I was enough of a mess without hearing her voice.
Katherine Dawson: She’s carrying your baby.
I don’t say anything. I couldn’t think of anything to say if I wanted to. It sounds ridiculous now but I didn’t have any right raising a child, at least not with Anna. A kid deserves loving parents. Parents that actually give a crap about each other. I didn’t have that and look how badly I turned out.
Katherine Dawson: Do you even care about her?
I look at her, a look that says it all.
Katherine Dawson: You’re a b*****d, you know that?
Trace Demon: Yeah, I do.
Katherine Dawson: So what, you’re just going to ignore her, pretend that you didn’t get my little sister pregnant because you dosed her up with pills.
Trace Demon: I’d never abandon my own kid, but I can’t be with her. We aren’t meant to be together.
She doesn’t argue against that. She’s been saying the same thing for the last four months, ever since I met the two of them in that dank nightclub in New York. Katherine has seen the very worst of me. She’s seen me drugged up out of mind. She’s seen that I’m more than willing to cheat on her sister, even if it is with her.
I wouldn’t want my sister with anyone like me so I can’t blame somebody else for feeling that way.
Trace Demon: And what about me and you?
I try to brush a stray stand of hair out of her face but she slaps my hand away.
Katherine Dawson: There is no me and you, there never has been.
She’s speaking quietly, almost whispering. I couldn’t tell why at the time. Maybe if I knew, things would have been different.
Trace Demon: That isn’t what you were saying when I was f*****g you!
Did I mention the mood swings?
Anna Dawson: What?
I turn around to see Anna standing in the doorway to Katherine’s bedroom. She was six weeks pregnant at the time. I hadn’t heard the door open but I didn’t need to be a genius to know whether she’d heard us or not. I should have known that Katherine was lying about whether Anna was here or not, but as I see the look of shock on Katherine’s face I can tell that she didn’t see this coming.
Anna Dawson: What the f**k is he talking about?!
And so began the worst month of my life.
< *** >
Trace Demon vs. Hutton Brown 3. Well let me just say that... it’s about f*****g time! You see Hutton, I’ve been waiting for this day for seven, long months. Ever since you beat me and evened the score at one a piece... ever since May 13th Hutton. You see, this will be the third time we’ve faced off and this... this just isn’t any old match. This isn’t about the International Championship. This isn’t about moving on to the next stage of some tournament. No. In fact, that doesn’t really matter to me right now. That’s just a... lucky extra, a bonus. No, what matters to me Hutton... the only thing that matters to me right now... is you, and what you’re going to do for me.
There are very few men who have managed to get under skin as much you have Hutton. In fact, in over four years of working in this business I can only count four of them. Only four men who I want to fight in that ring as much as I do you. And right now... right now three of those four are currently right here in the WFWF. Oh, don’t I feel lucky right now. But you see Hutton, there’s something different about you. There’s something different to those other three. Because with them I just want to hurt them... I just want to break their legs and watch them cry... watch them cry like little girls as they beg for me to stop beating them. I just wanna... rip their heads off. Just laugh as they scream in pain.
Sorry, I got a little bit... carried away there.
As I was saying, while I genuinely want to hurt them, you... there’s something different... something that I don’t quite like. Because you... you I don’t hate Hutton. I don’t despise you. Hell, I kind of... I kind of consider you a friend. And that, that is rare for me Hutton. Because usually, when I step into the ring with someone, I just want to kill them. But hey, hey, what am I going to do? What am I going to do fighting somebody I consider a friend? What am I going to do fighting somebody that I respect? Oh yeah, that’s right, I’m going to do the same thing that I always do. That I do to every single f*****g person! I am going to hurt you!
It doesn’t matter to me Hutton, it really doesn’t. You could be my friend, you could be my brother, you could be an elderly war veteran in a wheelchair but when they step into that ring everybody is the same to me. Everybody... is just another person who I can f**k up. Your all the f*****g same to me! But I know what you’re thinking. Yeah, I know exactly what is running through your head right now Hutton. You’re thinking that if you can beat me once, then you can beat me again. But I’m here to tell you right now; that the person you fought before... the person who beat you on February 28th... the person you beat on May 13th... he’s gone. He’s dead. I buried him.
The person you thought you were facing... is no more. What stands in front of you is somebody who has been pushed to the edge. Somebody who is sick and tired of being at the bottom of the pile. Because it seems Hutton... it seems that no matter what I do, it just isn’t good enough. It just... isn’t... good enough. Do you know how that feels Hutton? Do you?! Do you know how it feels to walk out to that ring and just be another face... another nobody who doesn’t have a chance? No... No, I don’t think you do. It doesn’t feel great... it doesn’t feel great at all. But don’t worry. Because you... you get to do something very special. You get to help me. You... get to be my example.
My example to the entire f*****g world about what I am all about. I am not going to be overlooked by the likes of these f*****g people anymore! I am sick of it. All of these people... all of them, with their home comforts and their benefit cheques, they think that they have the right to judge me. But they don’t. And you don’t. Nobody has the right to judge me! Nobody! But it’s okay... you don’t have to worry any more. Because you get to help me make my point. My point that it doesn’t matter who you are, whether I respect you or not because at the end of the day... I’m going to hurt you. I’m going to watch you suffer... and bleed... and beg.
Two years ago, I quit taking pills. I quit... and my life got better. But there’s always been something missing. There’s always been this... emptiness. And I just couldn’t figure it out. What could it be? So this week I held them... they were right there in my hand. Pills. Beautiful little white pills. And I thought to myself, are these what’s missing? Are these all I have been missing in my life? I mean I have a girlfriend, I have a kid, how in the world are these little pills what’s missing? So I sat down, and I had a nice long think about it. And I came to a conclusion.
Do you want to know what that conclusion was? I know you do. I realized, that the pills meant nothing. That I didn’t miss the pills. No. I missed the thrill. I missed feeling invincible. That feeling when you step into a room and you look around and you think... nobody in this room could touch me. That’s what was missing. That is what I’ve been craving. And so, I found a way to find that feeling again. A way that doesn’t involve popping pills or drinking alcohol. I found a way to get that feeling without slowly killing myself.
I realized that if I go into the ring, and I make you scream... I make you beg, that I will feel invincible again. So that’s all I’ve got to do. I just need to hurt you Hutton. I feel better already, just knowing that I get to twist and break you in ways people have never witnessed before. So I hope you’re ready. I hope you’ve got a good doctor waiting for you. Because... I respect you, and I like you... but I’m going to break you. I’m going to hurt you and I’m going to enjoy every last second of it.
So until then Hutton. Enjoy yourself. Go out for a run or something... while I still let you.
