Letters of Meth Abuse Deaths and Tragedies

• Mar
  08

  Scotty's Story

  I know this is a long story, but please read it. Let it soak into every fiber of your being. I met Scotty in 1986 at a bar that my roommate worked at. He would always come in with his friend Steve and they would sit around and BS drinking Crown Royal Shots (they were known as the Crown Royal Boys) anyhow. They were both very nice and polite likeable kind of guys. Scotty would sometimes come in by himself and he always had looked so down . Later I found out it was because he was very lonely. One time he asked me out to dinner with no strings attached as he put it, but I was in a relationship at the time and had to decline his kind offer.

  Later in one day in September of 1987 I was at the bar and Scotty was there too and I wasn't very happy in my relationship because of abuse and I ended up going over to Scott's house to drink and do crank. We partied and talked and drank we talked about all kinds of things including my unhappy relationship. He offered me a place to stay if I needed one and again (no strings attached) we talked and drank some more and then he finally told me that he had to lay it down and try to get some rest because he had to go to work in a few hours. He welcomed me to stay and sleep on the couch or in his bed with again "no strings attached" I decided I would stay the night there. He offered me one of his T-shirts to sleep in and began undressing in front of him (he hid his face and pointed towards the bathroom and said you can go in there and change) I chuckled to myself and thought "What a country bumpkin" but his innocent like ways were cute. Any how I ended up lying down in his bed and a couple months later I realized I was pregnant with his baby.

  Scotty and began our life together. He was so happy to have me there with him. My daughter that was 10 was also there with us for a bit and he was just great with her. He seemed like such a GREAT guy (and he really was ya know), but drugs had ahold of him and me too at the time. I carried our daughter to term and partied in the manner of beer and a couple match heads of coke in the first 3 months of pregnancy then I quit and stayed clean and sober during the rest of my pregnancy of course Scotty partied like usual. I gave birth to a healthy beautiful baby girl and did the party thing all over again after she was born.

  With a new baby I couldn't run free like I used to and I got left at home while Scott would go to the bar and do his thing. Sometimes Scotty and I would go out to the bars and party together and later down the road I would get pregnant and quit. He would continue throughout my pregnancy I would lay awake worrying about where he was and if he was okay was he dead or alive. I called the bars, his friends, the hospital, jail all those things hunting him down and eventually in would wander in drunk sometime in the morning. I cried, yelled, screamed, tried to talk to him, reason with him, guilt trip him you name it I did it trying to make him clean up his act. He would feel bad and say he was going to clean up, but hey we all know the scene.

  I got pregnant a second time and found out that I was having a boy and could hardly wait to tell Scott. I rushed home to tell him and on the way home I saw his truck sitting out in front of a friend's house (friend and dealer) I stopped went in to find him there pawning one of his carpenter saws for a quarter bag of crank. I was mad and split. He came home shortly afterwards and hung his head in shame as usual with all the I'm sorry I've let you down again speeches.

  Any ways I gave birth to our son. On the day I was being discharged from the hospital after I had already checked out for I waited for two hours for Scott to come and pick up me and his new baby. When he did arrive he was so amped up it was embarrassing. He was sweating and talking so fast. I was mad and hurt and thought how could he be late picking me and his son up from the hospital. I yelled at him all the way home. He gave me some story about being' out riding' his motorcycle with some other guy and the guy got pulled over and of course good ol' Scotty had to ride off a bit and pull in somewhere to keep an eye out for his buddy. The guy went to jail and Scotty went up to some chick at the gas station that had a truck and asked her to help him get his friends bike. Oddly enough they knew each other from the bar and so she helped him. I always wondered how true that story was especially down the road when we were at the bar together and I saw him in a corner arguing with her about something. Looked like a lovers quarl to me.

  Any how the night we got home with our son - Scotty took off to the bar because he was mad that I bitched him out. I just sat home and cried finally I called the bar and was told he wasn't there, but I told the bartender that if she saw him to please tell him I was sorry and that I loved him and wanted him to come home. That was what our relationship was like. He would drink and use and I would yell and scream and accuse him of being on dope he would lie I would find his bag and bust him. He would get pissed and leave or feel guilty and apologize and like a vicious circle. This is the dance we did. He would leave I would hunt him down via phone or with my car. We would fight, make love, make up and do it all over again. I ended up going out and buying my own quarter bag because I thought "Screw it" if you can't beat'em join'em, but really all I wanted Scotty to do was accept me and if that meant I had to use for him to like me again then I would use and I did.

  We continued to fight and he continued to run I chased and sometimes I did my own running and he chased that was fun for me to have him come after me for a change. We ended up moving out of our old neighborhood to a whole new city hoping that we could get away from the drugs. Scotty had lost jobs and was taking whatever he could get. We hoped our move would bring us a new future and it kind of did for about a month. Scotty stayed home with me and we were both clean. We laughed and had fun he was really great to be around. I got pregnant again.

  One day Scotty left to look for work I puttered around the house doing the "Susie homemaker thing" it got later and later in the day with No sign of Scotty. I started worrying about him, wondering if he'd been in an accident, calling the hospitals and jails, calling some of the local bars then that dread set in. The thoughts of him using again filled my mind, but I wouldn't let them take root. There is just no way he would do that I thought to myself hours later he wandered in with some story about running out of gas and some guy that was right on helping him out. Of course the guy just happened to be a crank dealer and blah blah blah blah blah but I didn't get any dope and I'm not going to use I promise he said.

  Day after day night after night Scotties addiction took him further and further away again. I wasn't sure I wanted to have this baby and do this again, but I just couldn't go thru an abortion so there. I was pregnant again for the third time with Scotty's baby. Scott began hanging out at his new friend's house a lot and he had become mean in his actions towards me. One day he was outside being a jerk and I was going to our door just so I didn't have to listen to his mouth spewing out obscenities towards me. I shut the screen door and was about to begin to close the glass doors when out of nowhere Scotty thrust a knife through the screen just barely stopping before making contact with my pregnant belly. I continued shutting the door and he went around front and broke through the door tearing it off of the hinges and everything.

  We constantly fought and I constantly felt like if only I was a better person or if only I didn't do this or did do that then maybe he would love me and stop using. Once again we decided to move I must say I was relieved to leave that place I was all for moving. We were moving to the San Fernando Valley in LA County and were going to stay with some friends for a bit till we got on our feet. Scotty was mellow there, but still did his thing. We got our own place and things remained the same for me.

  Wondering where he was, what he was doing. He drank and did his dope, but seemed less out of control as before. I had a friend that lived in Medford Oregon and would talk to her on a regular basis. We decided to move to Oregon and try and start a new life. My mom sent me some money to help us move. Things were fun on the way there until our car burnt to the ground. My friend had to come and get us. We stayed at her place and things were okay, but I was not happy there either. Scotty drank, but I didn't notice much crank use, but of course I was taking care of 3 babies now all in diapers I was focused on them.

  We ended up moving back to California a month later and staying at his brother's wife's house. His brother was in jail for what else "DRUGS" any way we stayed there found a place to move to and just like before it all started over again. This time though I went out drinking with Scotty and when we came home. I was so drunk. I hugged the toilet all night the next day I was thinking about things and realized that I didn't remember if I paid our babysitter or not as a matter of fact I don't even remember coming home. I thought to myself what if I had dropped my baby would I have remembered to call 911and that's when I knew things had to change at least where I was concerned.

  Scotty remained true his addictions and I was miserable. He would drink and come home drunk yelling and screaming at me calling me all kinds of names I hated it. I thought to myself if he calls me a F-Kn B one more time I'm going to scream. I was so sick of my life and all the misery Scott's drinking and drugs was causing. I thought I am so unhappy and have been unhappy for as long as I can remember. I thought I am going to just kill myself. Yeah, that's it I'll kill myself. I've tried drugs, I've tried alcohol, I've tried men, and I've tried everything and nothing works now there is nothing left but death. Then something said have you tried God yet? Until you've tried God you haven't tried everything. I prayed right then and there. I said, God, I don't want to drink anymore; I don't want to use drugs any more. I don't even want to smoke any more. Three days later It occurred to me that hadn't done any of my old habits and I realized that not only had I not practiced any old habits but I didn't even have the desire to that was the beginning of the end of my drug days for the next 4 years and at that moment I thought to myself . "There must be something to this God thing" I could never quit on my own before, but when I prayed it worked for me. It was a true miracle.

  I began going to church. I wanted Scotty to come, but he preferred the bars and his dope. I took the kids and attended church he hung out with his buddy's and did drugs. I told him that we needed to live in separate places and that I wanted him to move he wasn't happy with me, but he pretended like he would honor what I said and left to go work on his van so that when he moved out he could leave me the car. Well, that day I got a phone call from Scott's friend. Scotty had propped his Van up on one side resting it on a couch and the other side was jacked up it was a windy day and the wind blew the propped up side dropped on Scott while he was under the van and he was rushed to the hospital. Some friends from church came over and took my kids so that I could leave to be with Scott. I got to the hospital and the doctors told me that they doubted that he would live and if he lived they said he would have brain damage. I went to see him and he was hooked up to tubes and monitors and all sorts of things. He was in a coma and later the nurses told me that didn't think he would make it through the night. Scotty had no broken bones, but had punctured a lung. The big worry was that he had been under the Van for about 4 minutes with little to no oxygen. Well time went by and Scotty came out of the coma, but couldn't move his right arm. As time went on he healed completely and was back to his old self before ya knew it. I thought for sure he would have this new outlook on life since his life had been spared, but no he didn't even remember the accident. I still had him move out and he went to stay with his brother that had gotten out of prison, again.

  I continued on in church and he contained to worship his God Meth and Alcohol. One day he came to me and said he wanted to be clean and sober and start going to church. We were married a few days later. I was so happy that he was clean and he did real well for a while, but he fell here and there before our first anniversary he was already back into his dope world. I'd come home from church and there would be all these people out front all druggies of course.

  While Scotty was clean and going to church we had some really nice times. He could be so wonderful when he was clean. I loved him dearly. I kept thinking he would come to his senses and stop doing dope again, but no such luck it got worse. I'd find evidence of his drug use and confront him only to have him lie about it. Our first anniversary rolled around and he was so proud to take me to Pismo Beach, rent me a Lexis It was great except he just wasn't present. He tried to be, but he just couldn't fake it and I could tell he really wanted to make me happy and be clean, but if he did that he wouldn't be happy. So from that point on Scotty lived the way he wanted to.

  I left Scotty November 14th of 1994 I hoped it would be a wakeup call for him like a big smack in the head, but it wasn't. He spiraled down even further. I would go see him from time to time or have him over for dinner (he usually didn't eat). I was having a hard time letting completely go of him. He would come to me every now and then and tell me he needed help and I would try to help him. He went in and out of drug rehab, Christian men's homes, but always returned to drugs. I tried to help him as much as I could by taking him to meetings and being supportive, but I got burnt out. The final straw for me was when he stayed with me under the condition that he would go to the VA for outpatient rehab. I would take him to the meetings and things he went and seemed like he was doing' okay until one day I was in financial need and was going to the swap meet to sell some things to pay a bill. He said he had some things he needed to sell too so he came along with me. I made a little money he made a nice amount. That evening he had a meeting. I drove him there dropped him off and didn't see him for a couple of days. He had taken his money and spent it on dope. That WAS IT! I was done.

  Don't get me wrong I let him come visit his kids and me, but I kept my distance. He was staying with some friends and I would get phone calls from people saying that he had ripped them off and that they had found needles around the place he was staying'. I didn't believe them because I hadn't seen that side of Scotty. I knew that in his past he had used needles, but I didn't think he did when he was with me. There was a time or two that he came to visit and fell asleep on my couch and I thought that there might have been needle marks on him, but I wasn't sure and I didn't want to ask to have him lie about it and if the truth be known. I really didn't want to know. I do know that I watched a man go from a hardworking man to a man that couldn't hold a job and I watched a man that had a place to live begin to live under overpasses and down by lakes.

  One day Scotty came to me and told me that he really wanted help and a friend of mine directed him to a place in Sacramento called the Lord's House. Scotty went to Sacramento and stayed there for a while. He got a job at the church and did quite well for a fairly good amount of time. He would come and visit for the holidays. He really was trying, but the hope he now held for a relationship with me was gone. I had lost all trust.

  Scott moved out of the Lords House, but stayed in Sacramento. I ended up moving to Maryland in 1998 Scotty called me up and said he wanted to come see his kids. I told him okay, but that he would have to stay in a motel because he couldn't stay with me. When he showed up he had 5 dollars to his name. I let him hang at my place for 2 nights and then I took him to a place to talk to someone about rehab. I gave him 10 bucks and dropped him off. One the way to this place he was trying to tell me how much he had changed "Changed, I yelled, you haven't changed. Here I sit in this van driving you to another place so that you can go into a rehab. You haven't changed at all Scott. What has changed is ME and this is the last time that I am going to do this with you. I am not the same woman I was in California and you are not going to put me through this ever again. So you better get it right this time".

  Scott got into a rehab, but took off a few weeks later and went back to Sacramento. We would talk to him from time to time via telephone. He would always try to tell me he was doing good, but I knew he was lying. I moved to Portland Oregon in June of 2001 and I hunted Scott down via telephone so that he would at least know where his kids were at that time Scott was traveling around with some Carnival. But he did say that he would like for me to look up jobs for him and to help him find a Salvation Army out here to stay at, but I didn't. I honestly didn't want him to move here unless he could have come out here with enough money to find a place to live and really look for work on his own. I would get letters from Scott apologizing to me and the kids. He would always let me know he wished we could get back together and I know Scotty loved me as best as he knew how but I couldn't put myself of our kids through his drug addiction.

  He later ended up in Santa Cruz California and has lived there the past three years. We talked a few times and he sent the kids some money for their birthdays and Christmas. I don't know what he did for work there, but I do know that he used the homeless shelter as his address. He would write the kids and our oldest daughter was going to school out in California he would go and visit her. I saw his effort there. He told me he wanted to see our other kids and get to know them but I was really scared to let him. I was afraid he would hurt them with his drug use. They had been hurt enough. I had always been honest with them about his drug use and never tried to cover it up. I figured it was better to know that daddy was a drug addict and that is what kept daddy from being around rather than chance them thinking daddy didn't love them. I talked to Scotty about a year ago I was distant I had to be I wasn't about to let him in ever again. Our older daughter told me that he had gone to see her in June of 2004 and he kept leaving and going to the bar, he was hanging out with old friends that use. A mutual friend said that he was sweating and acting like a wild man. Drinking one beer after another. He was with his brother who had just got out of prison YET AGAIN for DRUGS.

  My daughter was upset with her dad because he was supposed to be helping her move to Colorado. He was to drive the U-Haul, but she didn't feel safe with him acting like he was. A friend confronted him on his behavior and he did the typical and was insulted he said he resented being accused of being on drugs. He told them that they could figure out how to get to Colorado themselves and left. In November of 2004 I had tried to contact Scotty regarding the kids, but he did not answer his cell phone. I called and left message after message with nothing in return That was very odd for Scott, because one thing he had been trying to do was call back if it was one of the kids or about one of them. On Feb 9th 2005 I got a phone call from our oldest daughter that lives in Colorado. I picked up the phone and said, hello she said, "Mom" I said, Yes, she said, "Dad died". I will never forget those words.

  Scotty died on Oct 16, 2004 due to complications from drug use .he had been shooting up and as a result he got a bacterial infection (Cellulitis). Which he probably thought was just an abscess. He more than likely tried to treat it himself and when he realized that he couldn't and it was getting worse he then went to the hospital, but he had waited too long because it had turned into staph plus necrotizing fasciitis. He lived for seven days until his body went into septic shock and he had a cardiac arrest and died.

  I just found this out Feb 9th of 2005. Scotty had listed himself as single therefore they didn't try to find his wife to tell her or his kids. He died being labeled a transient with no kin. Instead of celebrating his 48th birthday. Scott was being cremated.

  I spoke with the Coroner and Sheriff and they told me that a man named John took Scott to the hospital and after Scott passed away. John tried to say he was Scott's brother and claim his personal belongings. When asked for ID John then said, well I was like a brother. WHAT A VULTURE. The very people that paraded around as his friends were the first to try and rip him off. I was angered by this to no end. You know when we use we think. What's the big deal I'm not hurting no one. That is not the truth because people are being hurt by your drug use. Everyone who loves you is being hurt by it. Just ask Scotty's Kid's. They've suffered the ultimate pain. Their dad is DEAD because of his choice to use. If you are reading this and you are using drugs (it doesn't matter what kind of drugs or how you use them). Please get help. There is hope for you. Remember this: "As Long As There Is Breath There Is Hope"
  
  In Memory Of William Scott Simmons October 22, 1957 to October 16, 2004
  Sher, Oregon, USA

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  Posted on March 8th, 2011

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