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The Long Way Home
The Long Way Home
The Long Way Home
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The Long Way Home

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This book seeks to share an entertaining view of society, which I believe has some serious cracks in it. Perhaps we will find the fortitude it takes to mend them. My experiences were mild, considering some of the things we read in the newspapers every day. The traumas I suffered and their repercussions are being recognized more widely, and in this I find hope. Recognition is primary in positive resolution.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateDec 21, 2015
ISBN9781504967112
The Long Way Home
Author

Sammy Simms

The author went from a one-room schoolhouse to one of the nation’s best universities. He has lived in a poorly constructed two-bedroom farmhouse in a family of nine to the top floor of luxury apartments. He has scrubbed floors and managed stores and almost everything in between. He has known marriage and divorce. He has been a devout Christian, and he has known active addiction. These are some of the forces and experiences that have shaped the author—his memories and his stories. Perhaps this book will be seen by some as shocking to people. What the author is trying to do is share some experiences in an entertaining way. If something greater comes of this, then the author will be pleased.

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    Book preview

    The Long Way Home - Sammy Simms

    © 2015 Sammy Simms. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    Published by AuthorHouse 12/10/2015

    ISBN: 978-1-5049-6710-5 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-5049-6711-2 (e)

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

    and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    CONTENTS

    Preface

    Dedication

    Chapter One

    Chapter Two

    Chapter Three

    Chapter Four

    Chapter Five

    Chapter Six

    Chapter Seven

    Chapter Eight

    Chapter Nine

    Chapter Ten

    Chapter Eleven

    Chapter Twelve

    Chapter Thirteen

    Chapter Fourteen

    Chapter Fifteen

    Chapter Sixteen

    Chapter Seventeen

    PREFACE

    Addiction is like a whirlpool in the river of life. If the disease is not arrested it will pull you down and drown you. It’s an insatiable whirlpool. It can swallow you, your friends and family without needing to belch. Maybe there’s something good in everything. Perhaps the positive meaning of life lies in helping others. It has been said that if you give a man a fish he is fed for a day, but if he is taught to fish the rest of his life is improved.

    I went from a one room school house to one of the nation’s best universities. Haved lived in a poorly constructed two bedroom farmhouse in a family of nine to the top floor of luxury apartments. I have scrubbed floors and managed stores and almost everything in between. I’ve known marriage and divorce, and have been a devout Christian and I have known active addiction. These are some of the forces and experiences that have shaped my memories or my story or this story.

    Perhaps this book will be seen by some as someone seeking to shock people. What I am trying to do is share some experiences in an entertaining way. If something greater comes of this then I will be pleased.

    If at sixteen someone had told me what the next twenty-two years of my life would be like I would have said that they were looking at someone else’s future.

    This book seeks to share an entertaining view of society which I believe has some serious cracks in it. Perhaps we will find the fortitude it takes to mend them. My experiences were mild considering some of the things we read in the newspapers every day. The traumas I suffered and their repercussions are being recognized more widely, and in this I find hope. Recognition is primary in positive resolution.

    Addicted Eyes and Blue Skies

    I look upon a sky

    Filled with cotton ball clouds

    It seems so close now

    It was once far away

    When I lay down and dreamed

    The dreams of a child

    Some universal truth

    Would come to me

    In those days gone by.

    Now the clouds just become

    some snowmen in the sky

    That reminds me of a cold place

    Not long ago I knew

    Where hearts were frozen

    And serenity unconceived

    Nightmarish dreams did abide

    Perhaps there is the answer

    To my question

    That pride holds inside

    How long can I know

    The peace and freedom

    Brought by the beauty of the sky.

    DEDICATION

    I thank God for strength, inspiration and the support of family and friends. They are too many to name. However, I would be remiss if some were not listed. They are:

    Catherine S.

    Virginia C. P.

    Deborah S.

    Mom and Dad

    Connie C.

    Those that were not listed, I want you to know you are not forgotten but a book of names would be boring. Thank you all.

    Talent

    One’s gift in our time

    May make him, her, you or me

    Feel the weight of responsibility

    Such gifts that others see

    Looking back I once saw them too

    Sometimes even now a glimmer comes through

    When vision was clear and pursuit steady

    Responsibility accepted, choices founded in good

    Then there seemed to be much less chaos

    From somewhere came the necessary strength and courage

    To move forward to search of conquests

    Each of us are now so burdened

    May we not struggle under the weight

    Let hope fill our hearts at today’s opportunity

    And find harmony within ourselves

    In so doing I believe

    We will find harmony in the universe.

    CHAPTER ONE

    I’m about three days past a suicide attempt brought about by schizophrenic symptoms. The day had a shaky start because I hadn’t slept for three days; my mind was constantly checking perception against reality in a losing battle to stabilize. Staff attempted to assure me that everything was okay. Their effectiveness was lost to the voices in my head that persisted. As they spoke words of reassurance with puzzled looks on their faces, reason had taken a backseat as fear and desperation were behind the wheel heading for parts unknown. This was exemplified by my reaction to a voice saying, Run for your life. Soon I was unable to resist. I believed that I had to get out of the room and run or I would be killed where I stood. Staff watched in amazement as a pajama clad man ran past their office window in slippers on a snow covered sidewalk. When I came back inside, the staff attempted to reassure me that what I was experiencing was not real. They insisted that I was safe in this house; however, their attempts only acted as a catalyst in affirming that danger roamed the neighborhood and I was a target.

    When I returned to my room, I was determined to find solace. The voices would not leave me alone. They wanted to know everything about me and they knew when I was lying. All my secrets were dragged from me. Sometimes a door would slam signaling the coming of the executioner should my memory fail or I try to hide behind some half-truth.

    On and on went the process. Have you killed anyone? they demanded. No. I thought. What about those people who died that you got high with! If you hadn’t been an accomplice perhaps they would not have died. Remember that dealer that shot himself. You supported him by buying from him. You may have been the person to turn him around but all you cared about was getting high. You’ve sold drugs. You’ve been a traitor to the country because you have broadcast your thoughts to foreign countries. Don’t you deserve to die?

    No! I’m innocent all I’ve done is try to live a normal life. A voice responded, Yes, a normal life at the expense of others. That driver that was weaving all over the road who you wanted the police to stop because you were afraid; he was just trying to live a normal life too, but you didn’t want him to go free! You wanted him to pay his debt to society. Now it’s your turn. What will your punishment be? How about a slap on the wrist. No! How about ninety days in jail! Ha! For treason you want ninety days in jail. Treason is punishable by death. If you were a patriot and a man you would be willing to take your punishment. okay I’m willing. Whatever you decide, I’ll do. You will be killed. Please! No! I didn’t try to harm anyone. All I wanted to do was to help bring peace and harmony to the world. Some peace and harmony! How does using cocaine bring peace and harmony? How does judging other people guilty bring peace and harmony? How does broadcasting secrets to the Russian government bring peace and harmony?"

    Alright! whatever you say I’ll do. We’ll think about your punishment. What kind of death would you like? Painless please! Please! Painless! If we give you pills that will kill you painlessly then we will have to explain your death to your family so that won’t do. Think of something else. But you said I could choose. You are a coward and if we gave you the pills you wouldn’t use them. I would! Please give me a chance. okay here comes the staff with your pills. We’ll give you your wish, now take them. With trembling hands I accepted the pills ordered by the doctor. Here is some water Mr. Simms. With a strained voice, I uttered a thank you. The staff person stood waiting for me to take the pills as I had done for days. She did not realize that today I thought that these pills would kill me. I took them and waited.

    Sitting along in my room, I waited for death but it did not come. Then there was the laughter.

    So you thought we would give you the easy way out. You always want the easy way out. When the staff asked you what you were afraid of in that other program, you said snakes. Snakes don’t scare you as much as death. Remember a coward dies many deaths and a brave man dies only one. By now sweat soaked my clothes and I had reached the outer limits of insanity. "So tell us.

    What really scares you? What is your greatest fear? Don’t lie because we’ll know. Pain! Pain is my greatest fear. I’m afraid of pain! Now think of the most painful way to die. I thought, death by torture followed by mutilation and finished off with multiple stab sounds. I think that is my greatest fear. Are you sure? How about heights? You have always been afraid of heights. What if we took you up to the top of a very tall building or even up in an airplane then threw you out into space? Do you believe enough in God to step off the top floor of a building or jump out of an airplane? That would be a leap of faith," the voice taunted.

    I remember Jesus being taunted like this by the devil. Of course, I won’t do that, I thought. Then you are a coward and traitor. I knew that’s what you were. The truth finally comes out. What we do with people like you is torture them and then when they have had enough they beg for the death they feared the most and we grant them their wish. God! Please give me life. I know I have sinned but please save me if it is your will. If you believe in God jump off that building and let his will be done. Or do you really believe? Of course, I believe and because I do, I won’t test him like that. You won’t test him like that because you are a coward. You’ll beg for death before te night is over. We’ll have a special celebration. We’ll tie you up and sodomize you. Remember those ladies who you thought wanted it up the butt? We’ll give you some of your own treatment. Surely you don’t mind being treated as you have treated others? Do you think that’s fair? Well! Do you?"

    Of course that’s not fair. I never tied anyone up and sodomized them. You used words of emotion and played with their minds so in a way you did the same thing. Are you going to be the coward and stay here till we come for you? Will you take your punishment like a man? In two hours we’ll come for you to see just how brave you are. That guy that was over there on the sofa with the bag has the tools of death. He’ll be up to your room. He’ll have a knife to deliver the fatal blows with but before we get to that there will be sodomy, torture and amputation.

    Sanity had taken flight, soon I did also. When passing the staff and other residents on my way out, I acted as calmly as possible. Out the door and down the street I went as the staff tried to reason with me from the porch, Mr. Simms! Where are you going? Don’t you want your coat? Why don’t you come inside? I started to jog to the bus stop. Attempts to be reasonable were lost as thoughts of returning to the house only pushed me further away and deeper into insanity.

    Tell the man sitting in the shelter that you are a punk or we’ll have him stab you to death right now. I’m a punk I said. Tell the bus driver that you are a punk. I’m a punk I said to a puzzle looking bus driver. You’re out of the house, but you aren’t safe yet. We could have the man sitting half the distance to the front of the bus stab you to death, said a voice. Don’t do that. I took the pills, I though in response. Go to the police station in Ann Arbor. When you get there turn yourself in for buying cocaine. They’ll know what to do with you. okay, I’ll go to jail. When we get you in jail we’ll get a group of guys to rape you then throw you off the third tier. That should be punishment enough. No, I can’t go to jail to face that. I’ll go home. If you go home then you must write a suicide note and take the bottle of pills."

    I

    The I that I would be

    The I as I am seen

    The I that I share

    The I that I am

    As I reconcile

    These aspects of me

    I am more comfortable

    With myself

    From whom I cannot

    And need not escape

    Then I will know

    Thy will is done

    Inside the room, I paced trying to decide if I would take the pills or go to jail. As I walked out the door to go to jail, I heard laughter and taunts. Come on I here, we need some new meat. Then we’ll throw you off the third tier when we finish, the voice taunted. I turned, went to the kitchen to get some water. Back at my desk I wrote a suicide note. The pills were taken in three mouthfuls followed by water. While waiting for the effects of the pills, thoughts of going to the bathroom to induce vomiting or trying to get to the emergency room came to mind. Maybe I should tell someone I took the pills. The voices began to rage and accuse me of being a coward. No! I have made my choice, was my response. I staggered over to the bed and lay down as numbness crept in. As I finished the Lord’s Prayer, blackness consumed me.

    My first memories are fuzzy. My arms were restrained by gauze tied to the railing on the bed. For a brief period, I pulled at the restraints trying to get out of bed. At first, I didn’t know why I was trying to get out of the bed, and then I realized I had to go to the bathroom. As I fought to escape

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