Objective 7, Book 4b

A couple of days have passed. Buster and I have EP’d Objective 6. Buster has also EP’d Objective 7 and is now running me on it. There are five commands for this Objective.

“I realize that I have the ability to let go of things in life and that I have to work hard at not letting other things get away,” I cog.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Buster refutes.

“Just write the cognition!” I exclaim.

“What else?” He asks.

“I realize that Tupac really is dead. Like all this time I thought he might be alive, but nope, he’s dead. I realize that the sky is legit blue. The grass is green and I realize I miss mowing it,” I cog, sarcastically.

Buster laughs, but he writes it down. He knows I am frustrated. He is equally irritated with this portion of the program.

“Did you really just realize Tupac is dead, or are you joking?” He asks.

“Are you serious right now? Of course I know he is dead,” I laugh. “I am just running out of fresh ideas. I’ve cogged everything you cogged already. I’ve cogged several of my own personal bullshit realizations. What else are they looking for?” I ask.

It’s a rhetorical question, but Buster answers, “I don’t know.”

“Look at that chair,” Buster commands. I comply.

“Thank you,” He acknowledges. “Walk over to that chair,” he commands.

I walk over to it, dragging my feet the entire way.

“Thank you,” he acknowledges. “Touch that chair,” he commands. I touch the chair.

“Thank you,” he acknowledges. “Keep it from going away,” he commands, before shaking and pulling at the chair.

I have a secure grip on it and am able to keep it from going away.

“Thank you,” he acknowledges. “Did you keep it from going away?”

“Yes,” I reply.

“Thank you,” he acknowledges.

This set of five commands is similar to some of the TRs we’ve drilled. The only difference is that we are supposed to keep whatever we have been commanded to touch from going away.

“This reminds me of TrR 6-9,” I confess.

“I know,” he concurs.

“This entire program is redundant. They drill the same exercises, over and over until you feel like you want to punch a wall!” I profess.

“You should punch a wall. Manifest another blow,” he suggests.

“No. Dude, why do you want me to blow on every Objective? I didn’t fake those blows to EP,” I inform him.

“Well it worked. You should totally blow again,” he continues.

“No,” I reply. “When are you getting those pills?”

“Dude, Ethics threw my package away because it had been tampered with. Ryan and I are going to sneak out and rummage through the dumpsters tonight, after lights out,” Buster replies.

“What? So they just threw the package away? Did they find the pills?” I ask.

“No, but because the shampoo and conditioner had been opened, they alleged it may have been tampered with and threw it away,” he continues.

“That makes zero sense. You think they would have emptied the contents Buster,” I speculate.

“Well, they didn’t,” he responds. “Okay, here we go.”

“Look at that wall,” Buster commands. I comply.

“Thank you,” He acknowledges. “Walk over to that wall,” he commands.

I walk over to the wall, begrudgingly.

“Thank you,” he acknowledges. “Touch that wall,” he commands. I touch the wall.

“Thank you,” he acknowledges. “Keep it from going away,” he commands, before pretending that he can actually shake the wall away from me.

“Thank you,” he acknowledges. “Did you keep it from going away?”

“Yes,” I reply.

“Thank you,” he acknowledges.

“This is lame,” I say.

“Well cog something then,” he encourages.

“Fine. I realize that sometimes it is harder to hold onto things than it is to just let go of them. Things like old dealers, druggie buddies and of course, drugs themselves, are a lot harder to hold onto than to let go of. It feels like it’s easier to hold onto them, but it is so much work to chase bags and you lose so much of yourself holding onto a lifestyle that doesn’t really want to you to live. Eventually you have to let go of it or you will die,” I cog.

“I think that’s pretty deep. That better EP you,” he insists.

Finally, it is time for lunch. We load onto the vans and make our way over to the center. Bolts and Brian are on the last Objective and are going to have lunch delivered here. I guess the last Objective is only one session per twin and it is about 2- 2 1/2 hours each. They make you work it straight through. Keisha, Cody, Noah and Juice are all done with Objectives now. Hayden, Derek Lowry, MJ and Louis (Bling) have all made it into this portion of the program.

“Hey girl hey,” I call out to Keisha. Hayden and I approach her together.

“How are you liking Book 5?” Hayden asks Keisha.

“It’s okay. Another book of Narcononese,” she laughs. “I have been taking my sweet ass time waiting for Noah,” she admits.

“Did you hear about Vinny too Skinny?” I ask.

“Yeah. I heard he punched a hole in the wall in the Objectives course room,” she laughs.

“I know! What an idiot! You know the only reason he did that, was because of all of the attention that Noah got aft er his failed Spider-Man climb,” Hayden says.

“Right? Like, grown the fuck up,” Keisha says.

“He is on an ethics cycle now,” I laugh. “I bet Coco and Chanel are relieved to be rid of him for a couple of days.”

“No doubt. I could see how badly Coco wanted to knock him upside his head when I was doing TRs,” Hayden claims.

“I know. I wish that he would just leave,” I sigh.

“Oh joy, hot dogs again,” Hayden scoffs. “It’s like they want us to get fat.”

“Seriously,” I agree. “At least we made it before they ran out of buns.”

“I hope they have more than just plain Lays chips left,” Keisha chimes in.

“I love the Cool Ranch Doritos,” the three of us say in unison. This harmony, causes us to laugh.

“Hey Liz, what you realize girl?” Buster interrupts. “Can I get a Coke? I promise I will get you back on my Walmart list.”

I know damn well that he isn’t going to get me back, but there is a small chance he might hook me up with pills. Provided him and Ryan are successful with their dumpster dive tonight. I reach into my Jan Sport and toss him a Coke.

“Thanks girl, what you realize?” He jokes.

I fake a laugh, but am seriously annoyed. Bling, Ryan and Derek have all heard Buster and have chimed in with their imitations of his infamous line, “What you realize girl?”

After lunch, we make our way to the smoking table by the pool to bull shit and chain smoke for the remainder of the hour. I have my mirrored sunglasses on and am enjoying the fact I can stare at Ryan without him knowing, but he knows.

“Liz, bro. I can’t tell if you are looking at me when you wear those glasses. I don’t like it,” Ryan laughs.

“I’m not, I’m just chilling,” I lie.

“Bro. Yo. Why are you always staring at me?” He asks.

“I’m not staring,” I blush.

I look over at the basketball courts and contemplate shooting some hoops. The boys aren’t playing right now, so it is prime time for me to shoot a few hoops and jam out with my iPod.

“Seriously, bro, why are you staring at me?” Ryan asks.

“I am not even looking at you,” I insist. “Stop trying to embarrass me. I was looking at the basketball courts.”

“Bro. You know you were watching me,” he continues.

This pisses me off. He is so back and forth. One minute he is flirting with me and talking to me about his son, and the next minute he is making a huge spectacle out of nothing. I jump up, pop my earbuds in and walk towards the court. I don’t know if anyone says anything to me, or about me for that matter. I am blasting my Tech N9ne. I grab a basketball and find my sweet spot. There is an angle from the right that I can shoot from and hit pretty consistently. I make several baskets before sitting on the milk crates and lighting a smoke.

The sun is warm and beaming on my face. It’s crazy that despite how miserable my surroundings are, the sunshine brightens my day. Washington state is almost constantly raining. It’s not just the rain that is depressing. In fact, it is more so, the dark, gray skies that linger for months upon months that fill your senses with gloom and dismay. As much as I miss my family, I do not miss the weather. I decide to lay down on the court. I love to sing and remember in choir we would lay on our backs on the floor. My choir teacher, Mrs. Rupple, insisted that laying down was the most difficult position to sing in and that it required strength and talent to sing well in that position. She challenged us to do it everyday, insiting it would help us with strengthening our diaphragm and help with breath control. After searching through my iPod, I opt to sing Ciara, Oh. She is one of my favorite singers to sing along with.

As I sing along, I think back to when this song was popular. It was during my club years. I loved it the first time I heard it and I remember asking the DJ at a club I frequented to play it. He insisted that it was too slow and no one would dance. I told him that I would dance and that I guaranteed others would follow. There is a part in the video where she is grinding on the hood of the car. It’s during Ludacris’s verse. Needless to say, I dropped to my knees on the dance floor and did my best to mimic her dance moves. The DJ always played that song for me from that point forward. As I reminisce about this, I realize, I have had a much bigger issue than heroin. I’ve been numbing out and blacking out for most of my life. Heroin was just my last stop on a winding road of addiction and substance abuse…

Today’s Theme Song- Ciara Featuring Ludacris- Oh

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**DISCLAIMER: This is my personal experience at a Narconon Rehabilitation Center. This is not an expose or journalistic documentation. It is not meant to bash the program in any way, or suggest that it is the only rehab facility that works for recovery. I have been clean and sober since 09-27-13 and attribute much of that success to this program. All of the names in this series have been changed to protect the identity of my friends and sober family’s privacy! Thank you for reading!**