XLIII Byrne this Note , "Being an AA guru is like being patient of the month at Whitfield." © 2015

Left there on a new psyche med, geodon. This medication is also used as an anti-seizure medication for Epilepsy. Was told to take a benadryl to help me sleep. The stuff, geodon, gave me the shakes, like delirium tremors. When I drank coffee it made it twice as worse. Also had horrid side effects. I remember one day I was trying to explain integer operations. Went blind for several seconds in the middle of the lesson. While I drove, I got light headed to the point of almost passing out.

She stayed by me. Had her on the, “He’ll fall to pieces with out me.” Didn’t go out much. I’d freak out getting with paranoia and displaced anger.

Enough became unbearable to her so she left me. I was crushed. Started going by her house during ,lunch breaks. One day… I begged and pleaded her to come back…

That afternoon I called my sponsor. He took me to the courthouse. I was shaking uncontrollably. Was constantly telling anyone who would listen, “Do you think she’ll take me back?”

A policeman came. He was oh so kind. Told me I could smoke where I was going. Put those handcuffs on me gently behind my back. In the back seat I shimmied the handcuffs in front of me.

At the jail his demeanor totally changed. “I been nice to you and you break the rules!” He took the handcuffs off and pushed me into a side room. Another officer started asking me questions about my tattoos. I enjoyed telling him the stories. When he instructed me to take off my shirt I thought he was wanting a closer look. Started getting nervous when he instructed me to remove my pants, then my boxers. Two guards came in. put me in a Velcro vest. Threw me in a holding cell. I started crying, “I’m a teacher! I don’t deserve this!”

Within ten minutes I started thinking of ways to get out. started karate kicking the door until an officer came, “BOY IMAH’ BEAT YO’ ASS IF YOU DON’T CALM DOWN!”

Fetalized in a corner continued crying. My body started to convulse from crazy pill withdrawal. From the small window in the door I saw the officers pointing and laughing at me. “Where am I going? Back to Parkwood?” “NAW, YOU GOING TO WHITFIELD. TOLD YOU ONCE TO SHUT THE F#@% UP!” Two days later they gave me an orange Coahoma county jail issue orange jail suit. Put me in a van and drove me to Whitfield. 

My friend Charles' story about Whitfield

Remained fixated on her. Asking everyone, “Do you think she’ll take me back.” Placed me in the crazy house. Was like it always is. Classes every two hours on interesting topics such as anger management, setting goals, meditation, and of course alcohol and drug abuse. They always seem to sneak in the drug and alcohol thing. There were all sorts of dubious entertaining characters in there. A seven foot tall  mentally retarded twenty five year old. He was prone to temper tantrums. Broke the television during one. Couldn’t understand a thing he said. One guy was trying so hard to be a woman. He even had breast. There was a guy who heard voices. There was a guy there missing chunks out of his left fore arm from being bitten by a rattle snake telling me, “You ain’t really got six years sober. You wouldn’t be here.” We stayed in three man rooms and had to use press a button on the wall showers. There was a guy there who looked normal and had a very positive attitude. He was supposed to get out the following day. They kept him a week longer. His attitude totally went pessimistic.

They used a system of bracelets to grant us chosen freedoms. White was beginner, yellow was the highes. At yellow you could go to the store on your own.

Whitfield was going through being a smoke free facility. I’d have to buy cigarettes for 50 cents a piece from residents that hung out at the grocery.

Momma, my sister, and Charles came to visit me. I was so obsessed, “Do you think she’s mad at me? Do you think they’ll put a restraining order on me?”

Even conned my mom into getting me her house phone number.

She felt sorry for me. Maybe I gave her a sense of purpose. I’d fall apart without her, obviously. It was her fault right? She was my emotional hostage.

Stayed there about a month. Discharged out on my birthday. Got right on my Bi-Polar meds. On the final day I was awarded ‘patient of the month.’ At 24^th avenue I remember David L. once said, “Being an a AA guru is like being patient of the month at Whitfield.”

School was very kind. Let me back on like nothing had happened. Was really scared that first week.