Hit Rock Bottom, Mr Joshua
I received heartbreaking but hopeful news tonight about Mr Joshua Young. I was told by another resident of Gifford Towers that he has been ‘banned and barred’ from this property. They told me to phone police if I see him. While I fully trust this resident regarding it, I would have phoned police if he tried anything further with me anyways.
I want to begin by admitting to sending a personally heartbreaking email yesterday to Mr Jason Roberts and Miss Amanda Schwanke regarding the various incidents involving him that I witnessed on this property recently. I explained that the post on this website regarding Mr Joshua Young was a warning to him since he wanted his name on my website. I gave him enough rope to hang himself quite effectively.
I won’t go into the details but I will say that he’s an addict who I would really like to see hit rock bottom soon. He could be a really great kid if only he would get and stay sober. I have known so many like him, including our traffickers. Every last one breaks my heart.
I have explained myself in various ways. The one that fits here is that I was born in Detroit and grew up like homeboy Em. I just caught a different disease than him and so many others I know and knew. My daddy and my first husband are just two. Daddy got better. Jason didn’t.
Jason Kneip was my high school sweetheart. I improved myself while he became a completely different person. He broke my heart to bits. I dropped out of Michigan State University when I had 9 full load semesters of coursework towards a dual major of premed and prelaw. I was almost ready to have my professors and advisors write recommendation letters to medical school. Then it felt like the earth swallowed us whole. He was hitting his rock bottom.
My dream job of becoming a medical examiner, giving closure to the dead by revealing how they died scientifically and truthfully, no matter the consequences was gone. The truth is what matters most. Then comes understanding and acceptance. That’s what I believe at least.
Jason once took me to a party when he was hitting rock bottom. He refused to admit anything to me about his addictions, bipolar disorder or anything else. He was an addict and I was going to help investigate crime. He wasn’t coming clean for anything. I knew long before then though. The signs were obvious.
His cry for help was bringing me to a party in the Michigan woods somewhere around MSU. This was extremely rare. He wouldn’t dare take me to the parties he attended without me. He avoided me finding out about them like the plague. This must be a normal college party. I was excited to meet others and learn about their studies instead of stressing about medical school. I was horribly mistaken.
We arrived early so that I could meet our host and Jason’s good friend. We started walking towards him together when Jason suddenly swerved off in the other direction. He saw what he needed to get through the night. I decided to stop the insanity immediately and walk our host through the basics which took forever because he was clearly intoxicated.
Hi, I’m Darcy.
You come with Jay. (In his extremely slow, intoxicated voice.)
Yeah. I’m with Jay.
(I kept glaring at Jay as he kept turning his back to keep getting intoxicated without my glaring eyes.)
Cool. Where you guys meet?
Umm. Well, we’re married. I attend MSU with him now.
Really? What are you guys taking?
Well, Jason is an English major who will be getting his teaching certificate.
(He was fifth year or so without any teaching experience. It was a rehearsed script. A girl can dream, can’t she?)
Whoa. Okay. Are you going to be a teacher too?
No. I am going to be applying to medical school soon.
Oh, heavy. You gonna be a baby doctor?
(Ok. The anxiety kicks in and I get really fast, wordy and painfully truthful. I can’t help it. It’s just who I am. That’s probably why I don’t hide anything from anyone. They just have to ask and I am talking up a storm.
My apologies to the FBI agent in the Florence office. Thank you for your patience on what was supposed to be just a boring formality. Yeah. My bad. You were a sweetheart but the good ol boy looks and you were a fucking Fed in 2008 Florence. I knew a few scared Mauritanians who came through Detroit with a story about being interrogated by y’all. It wasn’t anything bad just not exactly something that happened every day but kind of did back then. Anyways. My apologies and thanks for that and your service, naturally.)
No. I’m not going to be a pediatrician nor obstetrician. I’m afraid that I’ll break them to be honest with you. They’re so little. I am actually hoping, fingers crossed to be a Medical Examiner. My patients will be dead. I can’t hurt them anymore than they already are, obviously. I am hoping to keep attending MSU for medical school while working in the Michigan State Police Crime Lab as a forensic scientist. They have the most amazing lab with incredible scientists and consultants. Scientists in various fields do fascinating work to help solve some of the most horrific and challenging crimes and mysteries throughout the world. I love it all. My current favorite case involves a woodchipper. It was fantastic how they caught the killer. Her abusive husband, naturally.
(It was finally dawning on our host who I was. He kept yelling for Jason as I was talking but Jason kept ducking and swerving. He finally decided to ask me the proper questions with his oh, shit, I just got sober really fast face.)
Are you a cop?
No. But I hope to work for and with Michigan State Police. I would be a scientist though, proving crime scientifically for Michigan State Police Detectives who I currently go to school with. (I was vigorously nodding my head to make it sink in really well.)
So, you gonna turn us in? (This was far less slowly spoken. He was almost sober.)
Nooooo. I don’t think that I care to disturb them. It would take them forever to get ready for a raid and execute it. You’ll probably have all of this gone and cleaned up before then anyway, right?
(Mr Sober Host was examining the large group of people who had arrived during our painfully long conversation, trying so hard to figure out what to do. He was unsure of the truthfulness of his words but understood the required answer.)
Uh, sure. So, what now?
I will sit next to the roaring campfire with my husband, Jason. We will chat and enjoy the evening just long enough for everyone to realize that we are totally cool here. Okay?
Okay.
I will then take my husband home and kill him. I know how to do it and not get caught. That’s what I am studying but to catch the killers, not kill people, obviously. Shall we sit? These logs are perfect seats and eco-friendly. Did you cut them yourself?
We all sat around the campfire very sober with uncomfortable conversations for an hour or more. Once people started chatting freely and being happy with their unexpected sobriety, I thanked the host and guests for a lovely evening and said our goodbyes in polite, Midwestern fashion.
The car ride home and aftermath was far less friendly. I cussed Jason the entire way home. I wanted him to realize what he was doing to not just himself but me too. I wanted him to hit rock bottom and come back home to me. He finally did. He confessed to some of what he’d done after filing for divorce. Then he confessed to everything after our divorce while intoxicated.
He was a totally different person than the cute little liberal boy who fell in love with the girl from the wrong side of the tracks. It broke my heart to bits. I prayed that he got better, found love and had a happy life. He has since passed. I hope that he found the peace and happiness he deserved.
God bless you, Jason and every addict who is no longer with us. The struggle is real.
May Allah forgive you your sins and increase the good that you did in this world, as I ask of all human beings, past, present and future. For you are all knowing and most merciful. Amin.
Allah, please help Mr Joshua Young and those who struggle with addiction to hit rock bottom, get sober and stay sober. For you are all knowing and most merciful. Amin.
Addiction is a disease that destroys more lives than just the sufferer. It must be eradicated with a bit of tough love when using and compassion when they aren’t because
Every life matters, especially yours.
God bless Nebraska and especially Her people.
