Romantically roses are Immensely outdated, however Through the pain from its own thorns that a rose endures is where we discover the purpose of that growth to develop such beauty it possesses. Every rose has a thorn, yet every thorn is a page in the story about pain and hard lessons in order to discover why we were put in the soil of which we grew. We are all roses, put in different soil with different fertilizer, which is why we should never expect the same bed made as the one next to us. Success and failure is only measured based on individual experiences alone. Ask yourself who makes your bed every morning? You should have said, yourself. You make your own bed. So no matter how messy or clean. You alone have to answer to it at the end of the day. You alone are to blame.
In this story we focus on a rose though blackened by the lack of sun and life it needed still shined like a diamond in the rough only his peers and colleagues seemed to just focus on the rough. That's alright, because life without motivation is but the waiting room for deaths' eternal chambers. That gives a motive to the drive this rose held tight like an underdog champ winning his very first title belt in the octagon of UFC.
Enough about personifying roses and lets introduce our protagonist, Nathaniel Douglas Taggert, or as we like to call him Nate, Nate Dawg, Nasty Nate, or just that mother fucker. For now though we'll just stick to Nate. Nate referring to his personality was a direct spitting image of his father Jerry Douglas Taggert, with physical features, and habitually taught similarities and characteristics of his mother Shawna Rene Dorn.
The boy had the best of both worlds so to speak, being a mistaken product of drama from the 90s, a self proclaimed bastard child, or better yet a wayward son. With his dad being a chronic intravenous drug addict and belligerent alcoholic and his mother a, well passionate lover of sorts though argumentative and head strong still affectionate in her own kind of blowing her horn yelling "get off the phone you idiot!" on Monday mornings at the guy sitting too long at the stop sign kind of way. I mean she did raise 3 children by herself after being bludgeoned to a pulp in her sleep by a still unknown perp back in her mid 20s, but that's a story for another time. An amazing woman nonetheless, hard to love, easy to forgive, and never forgotten. The 2 weren't remotely compatible, and were never married following a short lived, and destructive relationship but I don't think either were compatible with anyone to be completely honest. That's not a bad thing either.
To start this off let's recap the last 7.5 years of Nates life in a somewhat quickened summary.
Saturday 12:00 p.m. September 26th 2015 Nates half brother and childhood role model with a 10 year age separation Michael Frederick Elliott, or Mike who battling addiction himself from traumatic childhood experiences such as witnessing the gruesome act of violence against his own mother and still managed to save her life. At just the mere age of 5, to put it in his words "dude it fucked me up!" understandably so. He offered to take his 19 year old little brother to rehab that day in an attempt to mend an otherwise broken relationship and close out a chapter with high hopes and fingers crossed, due to the collision course from both of their addictions. Nate being consistently rejected, abandoned and lied to by his father as a kid picked up undiscriminating hard drugs. A sort of "whatchu got" kind of addict. Out of pure rebellion, Nate found himself picking up the same chase his dad never caught. That being said, Methamphetamine was his kryptonite. Mike's was alcohol. Both have different dads but similar history, their fathers proved that being man enough to stick it in doesn't make you man enough to stick it out, and child support is absolutely necessary, in these circumstances yet those men somehow fell short on that too. On this trip, though unanticipated, for once both of the boys were actually sober together! As hard headed as the brothers were, it was well needed. A great and delightfully productive conversation was had, and flowed seemingly un forced and natural. Just two brothers bonding.
After 2 long painful years for Nates mother, sister, Brother and any other parties caught in the crosshairs of a destructive hurricane crash landing along the shores of peace and solitude he was ready. Ready to face sobriety, by the grace of creation the boy was granted a full scholarship to a 40,000 dollar rehabilitation center. It's ironic the first and only scholarship that was granted in the family was to a teen on drugs admitting into rehab! This safe haven happened to be called, wait for it. The Last Resort! Nate, although reluctant was still grateful for this chance to start anew. Little did he know the sounds of a pleading mothers breaking heart, echoed through the sands of time and somebody heard! Otherwise the trailer trap and a needle were lying in wait for young Nathan. To this day the mystery entity will forever be appreciated. For short we'll refer to this place as TLR. Now, just as the angel is waiting in the shine with open arms, the devil awaits in the shade with empty promises. The master of manipulation he is indeed.
Nate slept great and ate like royalty the first week in "the joint" 3 hots and a cot as they say. To his undeniable surprise he loved it! Until the 3 parts of a disease that had held him by the balls since it felt like birth tightened it's grip, and not in a sensual way like the pornos the teen fantasized about when he was alone in his bedroom at night. More like a rubber band around the sack of a goat to be neutered. 1 the mental obsession, everyone is or has fallen victim strongly to this part in some way or another. This is by far the hardest part to get over. Our mind is our most useful resource yet our worst enemy as well. thoughts and memories about the pleasure and "good times" when he partied with his friends, how euphoria rushed over him like a warm blanket fresh out of the dryer on a freezing winter night. The haunting depression causes an uncontrollably irritable nature, scoffing in disbelief at any sign of normalcy as though he discovered that rock bottom actually had plenty of rocks at the bottom. he became A complete definition of bad company, and utterly unremorseful about it either, as if the burden was on him! Nate found comfort in the chaos. 2 the physical allergy, this part however mostly passed over through the first week still the aches and pains from days awake, walking, running and climbing obstacles to steal for more dope throbbed and lingered as if it was a wrapped wound with only gauze and no medicine, restless leg syndrome kicked in as the anxiety of being sober ramped up significantly. Arguably the easiest part referring to meth use to conquer, simply because most of the time tweakers just comatose during the extent of the detox process, due to being about 3 weeks behind on sleep at any given time. 3 the spiritual malady. This one is the kicker, because some who read this will not be religious, but good news is you don't have to be! You just have to believe you have a spirit and that something else created it who's more powerful than yourself. I personally refer to that "something" as God because us damned humans always have to label everything!
The spiritual malady is a gaping hole right at the center of our very being of existence where our guide from birth was residing, you know the loud voice that told you not to take the lollypop out of your mom's purse when you were 6, knowing damn good and well she told you only after dinner. now it stepped back and gave you the voice that told you well if you eat it fast enough she wouldn't know! This allowed us to learn something. In life there is always an action and reaction. Action takes discipline, reactions are impulsive. Oh yeah and it taught us that we are not God! Holy Messiah is that a long hard lesson to learn! There's a huge difference between the gift of free will and complete control free of consequence. A little secret, nothing in life is free! We must pay attention, or it'll cost precious time. Most of us just use substance to temporarily fill that hole, and numb the pain from it. A feel good remedy and easy short cut. As it goes short cuts always lead down longer back roads in the end, and most of us get lost along the way. When these 3 parts to an almost incurable disease collaborate together we become an unmanageable nervous and emotional wreck! Our scattered rats nest of a usually cool and organized mind running at a hundred miles a minute, stressed, worried, depressed, just trying to find a reason. Any reason! An excuse to inevitably shut this up, shut reality up! Luckily the desperate junkie had an appointment with the psychiatrist to examine his mental stability, as a routine requirement for post admissions "I got this, just act crazy and they'll give me some drugs" Nate told himself. It's unreal to the extent that he hyped himself expecting to somehow cold cop a fix from the nearly retired brittle coocoo doc, "easy target" he thought? Not exactly. Addiction is settling for anything that would get us high, drunk or otherwise numbed to the point that nothing else matters. The Truth is however, nothing matters more, than to rinse away your poison rather than drown yourself in it.
Nate woke up on a Friday morning the 2nd day of August. Just 6 days post admissions. TLR, the place to call home for the next 84 Days, He mumbled as he inched into the chow hall for breakfast. With a cocky resilience he muttered "I can do this at home" then yawned deeply passing 2 of his peers as they attempted to greet him. Acting as though he's blind deaf and retarded. He sat down, and realized from the clock in front of him hanging on the pillar dividing the dining room he was 15 minutes late to breakfast which didn't raise an alarm to Nate because he's been allowed to detox the first 3 days, and the last 3 meeting his counselors, and brainstorming a program success plan. In other words not whatsoever following the regular schedule. Their morning shift resident advisor or RA nudged a client whose grown accustomed to the guidelines and blurted out "you gonna tell him or should I? Ahh fuck it I'll tell him" ""you're late bud. The next group starts in 5 minutes" nodding with a subtle friendly smirk on his face. "Heard that sir" Nate mumbled After quickly losing what little appetite he had. he stood up and was putting his dish in the sink, "not my chore" he joked and immediately, almost as if hed been waiting for a reason to convince himself he's got it. Decided that he was cured. Didn't think about getting high in the last day. Had his catch up on sleep and food. He had been properly medicated by a professional, though he doesn't yet know what's in store with those non narcotic meds, given he has only taken 1 dose of the 2 medications. Depakote, and risperidone. By the way, were to help with symptoms for bipolar disorder and schizophrenia! Neither of which he suffered from, other than the temporary drug induced psychosis that comes from days of sleep deprivation, lack of nutrients, and severe dehydration. In his eyes Nate truly believed The whole nine yards had been fulfilled Now he didn't need the placement or the AA program. The selfish one man circus had been in complete disregard for the scholarship he was given or the love he was shown. He could just get away from meth by himself. Nates way is the easiest way. The devil, master of manipulation he is indeed.
He went to his counselor Dr. Bob Beare, a highly educated Doctor in psychology, and dedicated men's work practitioner, to top it off the author of the burning fire. The young misguided dope fiend krept uncomfortably into this old stucco building halfway nestled in the wooded hill country peaked around the corner hesitantly "fuck it!" He chanted to himself. With defiance in his voice told him "I'm done. Take me home now will ya?" Dr. Bob cleared his throat and stared through the top space of his reading glasses as they were sitting towards the tip of his nose with confusion he asked "what do you mean? You haven't even gotten started." Noticing the unsure tone from Dr. Bob Nate with increased confidence exclaimed "Call my mom!" Assuming he could just manipulate his way out like he always did knowing his loving mother cared immensely about her baby boy. The highly educated Doctor with an abundance of experience in this field replied with righteousness "I have a better idea! Follow me." He walked the now uncomfortable young man to his fellow rehab clients all whom were addicted to an assortment of substances. As they were walking across this field from the doctors office for what seemed like forever, stuttering with nervousness Nate said "man don't tell anyone else about this" Dr Bob laughed with excitement"oh but that's exactly what I'm gonna do" the pair approach the group outside next to the recreation area as they were awaiting instructions for the next class Dr. Bob announced loudly "this young man thinks he's ready to leave! Y'all agree?" Everyone in unison laughed in complete dismay. One of the other young men by the name of Aaron "Slater" Milam who also happened to be Nates appointed "big brother" as a guide in the place (RIP Slater.) Stepped up and said with confidence "I gotchu man, follow me" and everyone else followed in suit. Dr Bob left as he had other matters to attend to. The rehab clients drilled Nate into the ground with him sitting in the middle of a circle while everyone sitting around him. The sheer embarrassment alone was enough to make him wanna jump off a bridge! "You wanna die!" one client shouted "leave brother, but count your days" another added. "The devil's working my man" they all continued on and on until Nate grew impatient, and wore in blateny. Slater concluded with a calm hippie kind of shake in his voice "man we love you brother, but for this thing to work you gotta love yourself first" for the first time in the young man's life he heard someone else other than his mother verbally show genuine love for him. Yet nobody knew Nate nor his past, only that these drugs rain hail upon fire and brimstone for any who had gotten caught in its web. this small turning point showed him that love is not letting you back into comfort but showed him safety from your demons is in and of itself the absence of comfort, tough love. Now he knows there is a way. He will need to find the will to put in the work, trust me It won't be easy, but If Nate remembers and understands this prayer it will remind him what the bigger picture portrays. "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things that I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
For the next 90 some odd days the young man opened himself completely to the program of AA with the help of his fellow clients and of course Dr. Bob Beare, as for his so-called diagnosis and medication? Let's just say nodding off in the middle of the day wasn't normal. Or even seeing yourself from the sealing of the building, an actual outer body experience! No thanks. he stopped taking them and within a week or so he felt normal, or Nates normal anyway. The honor to have had An incredible apiphany and enlightening experience, through men's work by digging up the fossils of his past and brushing them off to display in the museum of deep emotional growth. I encourage men and women to look into this type of healing it works if you work it! My heart is patched boldly upon my sleeve to prove it. Though day by day our emotions are subject to change, it's the disapline we maintain that allows continued growth. Nate was delayed his graduation date through Christmas when originally was sometime early December, but honestly for good reason. He was pissed at first having to miss his birthday and Christmas away in rehab, Nate didn't even know however the mental obsession lingered in the darkest corner of his subconscious, holidays fresh out of rehab? Not a good idea. On a positive note he went in weighing a sickly 132 pounds at 6' 0' tall and graduated an astonishing 42 pounds heavier! At about his average of 174. That was the trophy by itself. He even wrote a quick farewell "rap" whilst his buddy Dylan lundell strummed the beat on guitar. As always with Taggerts they'd enter the room like Ozzy Osbourne. Completely fucked up. And they'd leave the building like Elvis! A STAR!