Over the next few months, I saw Dahmer sparingly. It wasn’t that I was healing. My family was fairly sure she was going to end up killing me. I think during this time, they were more concerned about this, even more than an overdose. They tried to make it as hard as possible for me to see her. I would still do what I could to skirt around their roadblocks. My mom stayed up night after night constantly praying for me, for my safety, and for my heart.
One night, around Thanksgiving, Dahmer and I got pulled-over in Madison. I was charged with possession of O.C. and possession of mushrooms (don’t ask, things had been weird). I went to jail; Dahmer went home. That was it for my family. I was on a plane bound for Atlanta on my way to a 6 month rehab.
I went to a Christian rehab; it was great. The first 31 days; I had to handwrite one Proverb a day, everyday. Proverbs is full of practical help for things that trip us up everyday. It gives wisdom to the person who seeks it. I knew based on the story I had been writing, I better get to seeking.
I was ready to give almost everything up and change my whole world. I didn’t want drugs; I didn’t want to go to jail anymore. I wanted Jesus; well, I wanted Jesus and Dahmer. The thing about wisdom is it doesn’t care what your prior thoughts or wants are, right is right and wrong is wrong. For some wild reason, I wanted to continue my relationship with her. To this day, I think there was great spiritual warfare being fought over my life and soul. This girl had cheated on me dozens of times and had beaten me to a pulp. I was so sick and eaten up with shame, that I could not see any worth in myself unless Dahmer found something lovable about me, for me. If Jesus wanted to drag me into a relationship with him over that six months, she was coming too.
I was warned constantly by my family and the rehab director to abandon this line of thinking. They warned me and warned me of coming destruction. I am incredibly hard-headed, often thinking I’m the smartest person in the room (often being proven wrong), and was not hearing what any of these wiser people were saying. Everything they said made sense to me. I had held on to the idea that Dahmer loved me for so long, I was not willing to give it up.
She and I talked on the phone a good bit while I was in rehab. I could not let go of the idea that she and I could live a good life; I thought I could will it into existence. You all already know I can go from zero to hero really quickly in my own mind. I knew she was using some at home. She tried to hide it from me, I knew what was going on. I also knew other guys were in the picture; the level of denial I was experiencing was catastrophic. I was planning on coming home from rehab and being clean. I told Dahmer that we could go to meetings and church. She could be clean with me.
When my family found out I was planning on coming back to her, they were done. They loved me and didn’t disown me or break relationship with me, but they were scared for me and knew if I was with her there was nothing they could do for me. After 6 months, I got ready to come home, no not my home, a hotel room with Dahmer. We were going to stay there until I could figure something else out. My family would not come pick me up from Atlanta or fly my back to Jackson. When they said they were done, they were done. I bought a bus ticket to Jackson as I prepared to come home.
One of my oldest and best friends is named Liam G. He and I have known each other for about 17 years. The first time we spoke, I could tell we were going to be friends forever. Liam is 1 year older than I am. He had been going to Hillcrest his whole life and would have been considered in the popular clique. I didn’t start going to Hillcrest until 9th grade. In the early 2000s Hillcrest was a weird place to fit in. I felt like I had finally found acceptance there when at the homecoming dance, Liam motioned me over to he and friends. Heck yeah, I wanted to be popular. I stepped right up. I was about to be cool.
As 50 cent told everyone it was his birthday, Liam said something to me. I could not hear him. The music was loud. He obviously thought I was pretty cool though. So I didn’t ask him to repeat his question; I just went with it as I said, “Not much dude whats up with you?”
Liam looked at me with a blank stare and matter of factly said, “Nah dude, I said, what time is it?”
I told him the time, and he turned back around to his friends. I just stood there waiting for our friendship to begin.
Hmmm, all I can say is that sometimes humble beginnings give rise to great things, such was the case for Liam’s and my friendship. Eventually, I introduced Liam to the girl he would marry. They were getting married the weekend after I was getting out of rehab. My plan was to take a bus back to Jackson and be picked up my Dahmer and her mom. I would then be a groomsman in the wedding. We were going to have a big time at the reception. I wasn’t going to do any drugs, but I was planning on drinking a White Russian or 2.
Leading up to coming home, I had spoke with Dahmer extensively about what I was risking to come home to her. I had a great family who loved me but was also expecting me to fail if I chose her. If she had any second thoughts, she needed to tell me now. She told me that she chose me and didn’t want to do heroin anymore. She said that I was the only man for her. My eyes were open, but I was not awake. Just like before, I believed her.
As soon as I got off the bus and into the backseat of Dahmer’s mom’s car, she reached her hand around the seat to hand me a Xanax bar. What the heck? I knew I shouldn’t take it, but it wasn’t heroin. I was nervous after not seeing her for so long; I decided it wouldn’t hurt to take half of it. Things went like this for two days. Nothing crazy happened; I didn’t die and didn’t do any heroin.
The day of the wedding I was so excited. I hadn’t seen any of my old friends in so long. It was time for them to see the new and improved Bardin. I had never intentionally screwed any of them over in my addiction, but I was a loose cannon. If you wanted any type of successful future, I was not the guy to have around. Sure, the party would be fun, but the hangover from my junkie friendship was a nightmare. I was finally going to get the chance to show Liam and the others the Bardin they remembered from before, when needles were just for sowing. After the wedding, Dahmer and I were going to drive to the reception and get the party started.
She was never good at hiding her infidelity. I don’t remember how I came to find out that she had been been talking to multiple guys while I was gone, but I did. This wasn’t even the most shocking part. I could get over that. Remember the trip I talked about in Part 1 to Hangout Fest? Well a guy had stayed with us there. I had caught them making eyes at each other. I was having too good of time to let it worry me at that time. I would see it and just walk away and find another girl to dance with. If she was gonna make me jealous at a festival; I had a remedy for that.
But on this day, when I found out that her and him were pretty much in a full-fledge relationship, after I went over and over what I was giving up, I got super angry. All I could see was red. If she was gonna make me jealous on the day my best friend got married, I had a remedy for that too. I called one of my long lost friends, Tex.
Tex was the first drug dealer to actually bring raw heroin into Jackson during the beginning stages of the opiate epidemic. He would go to Baltimore every few weeks and bring back a pack full of un-cut Afghani. I was Tex’s first white customer. At first he only sold to old school black addicts. They preferred to pay less for cut-up heroin. This made no sense to me. I told him just to leave it raw, and I would pay more.
I was so mad and heartbroken when I realized I had been tricked again. How was I going to tell my family about this? I wasn’t sure about that, but one thing I was sure of was that I was the stupidest man that ever lived. This made me only see red. If she hurt me, then I wanted to hurt her. I knew exactly how to do that. I was going to buy some heroin before we went to the reception, and she was going to watch me do it.
I called Tex and ordered a $50 bag. Whenever an addict gets clean and goes back to heroin. He better be careful. I have always had a high tolerance; its probably what has saved my life before. After being clean for 6 months, my tolerance was 0. I have heard more stories of OD deaths in this type of situation than any other.
I was so wrapped up in poor, pitiful Bardin, that I did not even realize Tex gave me a $200 bag by mistake. I guess his next customer got shorted, because I never noticed. We got back to the hotel, and I was still just as mad as I had been the moment I found out about the other guy. I took the whole bag and poured it into a spoon. I just knew she was going to be sorry when she saw all the fun I was having.
I remember sticking the needle in my arm and starting my push but nothing else. Dahmer told me later that after doing the shot, I smiled for a split second. This smile disappeared quickly, as she said my face turned to complete terror as I fell backwards against the wall. I slid down the wall and was completely unconscious within 10 seconds of administration. I don’t how long it took, but eventually, Dahmer called 911.
I was completely blue and not breathing when they arrived. Dahmer said she did chest rubs or compressions while she waited. The emts told my family that when they arrived she was just sitting there, as I lay there dying. I had no pulse and no breath. I, honestly, do not know what she did or didn’t do. I do not care, because I know that my God and Hero had been working for me all along. My drug addiction and relationship problems were not going to get in the way of the story He had been writing.
The emts immediately administered Narcan. Between the hotel and the hospital, I could not keep my pulse or breath. They would administer Narcan, and I would rebound and breath for a moment, only to crash and stop breathing again. Before I got to the hospital, I had been given 4 doses of Narcan. I was just barely hanging on. They finally stabilized me once I was at the ER.
I don’t remember but bits and pieces, but I have been told what happened in the ER when I woke up. For several hours, my life became a bad joke straight out of Adam Sandler’s 50 first dates. I would ask my sister or my mom where I was. They would tell me I was at the hospital and had overdosed. I would then get so upset and beg for forgiveness. I begged and begged each time to go back home with my parents. Afterwards, I would repeat, “I am just such a terrible sinner.” I would repeat this until I blinked and my brain would reset. We would then have the exact conversation all over again. Every time it ended with me being the chief among sinners. This finally stopped, and I was released from the hospital. I do not remember anything from the rest of the day.
The next morning my whole world was destroyed. I certainly wasn’t calling Liam; I had just died before his reception. My friends definitely knew now what the new and improved Bardin looked like. He was blue. For about a week, I felt as though the head on my shoulders did not belong to me. It took a while for my brain to recover from the lack of oxygen and blood. This feeling along with the shame of everything made me want to die. That afternoon Dahmer called me. I wasn’t in the mood to speak, all I said before I hung up was, “Go freak (didn’t say freak) yourself, I wish I had died yesterday.” I meant this 100%.
After this, I did not see Dahmer much. We would meet up every once in a while and get high or something, but I knew she wasn’t going to be a part of my story. She no longer had a physical hold on me, but the mental destruction that had taken place would take years to heal. I didn’t talk to Liam anymore either. Talk about awkward; I didn’t know what to say and neither did he. A decade of friendship sacrificed to my gods.
I have never liked someone who throws a pity party. I have always thought, �“No one is forced to be a victim.” I was not a victim, but I lived like one. Every morning I would look in the mirror and feel shame. I would see a junkie. I would see someone so weak that he would choose a girl that beat him up over his chance at a real life, just so someone would love him. This was every morning. There was no future for someone like that. I figured the only way to keep from seeing the junkie of my past was to stop looking and keep getting high. That is exactly what I did.
Eventually I got arrested and had to go to jail for long enough that I had to start figuring out exactly who the man in the mirror, staring back at me was. Was I a junkie, with no future? Should I give up on love? Should I give up on friendship?
No, no, and no.
As my mind cleared, and El Capitan poured discipline, love, and purpose in my heart, I realized I am none of the things I saw when I looked in that mirror. My default setting was to be a junkie and a victim, even if I tried to hide that from people. I knew I needed to see someone else every morning as gazed into the mirror.
Why did the mirror have to show me my past? Why couldn’t it start showing my future? In order to see my future in the mirror, I needed to start living my future. Everyday I started doing things that were going to make me into the man I wanted to be in 5 years. I set goals. I attacked everyday like MJ in the finals of the 1998 NBA championship. El Capitan and I would talk about waking up in the morning and competing against myself to be great, even if I couldn’t find another person to drive me. I continued to wake up every morning and look in the mirror. At first, I had to will myself to see someone different. Over time as I proved to myself that I wasn’t the junkie I used to be, I didn’t have to try as hard to see the happy, Jesus chasing Bardin that originally was 5 years out. That Bardin started coming closer and closer the real Bardin. Pretty soon, even I couldn’t tell the two apart. Thats when I knew my plan was working.
When this shame started melting, my heart started softening. You may think someone like me should swear off love and friendship completely. Like Owen Wilson’s character in Wedding Crashers, “I’m not picking on love, because I don’t think friendship exists either.” Thats not the new me either though. My hero has rescued my heart over and over again. He made me to want to love and desire to love. He made me to desire friendship.
After around 5 years of not talking, I received a Facebook message from my #1 homeboy Liam last spring. In it, he talked about the many regrets he had. He said he missed my friendship, and he meant it. I told him he had nothing to apologize for. Looking back, I couldn’t have stayed friends with me during those darkest days. I told him there was nothing forgive. We now talk a on daily basis about important, life stuff and stupid best-friend stuff.
I still believe God has a woman designed perfectly for me. A woman, who will not build me up just to tear me down. If I let this situation turn my heart to stone, then I really would be a victim. A victim that I don’t have to be. A victim that doesn’t even live in my mirror anymore.
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