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WardenCelestine
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BobbyJones314
Mitchell Bachmeier | Male | 19 | Addiction
Length of Stay
Mitchell has been here for four days and his stay is, at the moment, indefinite.
Illness
Addiction to hydromorphone (Dilaudid)
Incident
Mitchell went to hospital with false complaints of terrible pain from old burn wounds. When the nurse refused to give him the drug he wanted (as they had suspected addiction after he’d come in several times with seemingly self-inflicted or false ailments), he attacked her. Her injuries were superficial, but she was left shaken and visibly scarred from fingernails raking down her face and neck. He went to trial and it was agreed upon that because this was his first offence, he would be sent to a group home across the border rather than a detention centre.
Appearance
Mitchell is much like his picture: monochromatic in every sense. His hair is jet black; eyes are a dead grey, with near-permanent dark circles beneath them; even his skin has taken on a greyish hue. He stands at a dizzying 6’6” and weighs a bony, underweight and definitely unhealthy 139lbs (this weight issue has been one of many problems prioritized at the group home). His limbs are long and bony, clearly thinner than they should be. It looks as if he was once muscled, but has since atrophied. If he were to remove his shirt, one would see most of the bones of his torso, as well as some assorted scars. The skin on the insides of his arms and on the backs of his legs is thin, leaving his darkened veins clearly visible. This skin bears old bruises and countless needle track marks, giving it a sick, perforated texture. Mitchell’s legs, lower torso and back bear deep, discoloured burn scars.
Mitchell tends to wear dark (and monochromatic) clothing, almost always long-sleeved shirts and long pants to cover his track marks and scars. He also has a tattoo of the word “Renegade” written in large script across his upper shoulder blades, and a smaller one with the name "Aaron" over his heart.
Personality
Addiction has soured Mitchell’s personality into a dark and twisted version of what it once was. He has two moods: Miserable, and high. Since his forced withdrawal, his mood has shifted to miserable and angry. He is irritable and nasty, and constantly uncomfortable. He has somewhat of a twitch and trouble breathing on occasion, and has become depressed and paranoid; some days he feels as if the whole world is out to get him. He has a tendency to react angrily or even violently when provoked. He also has no self-respect and hates himself every single day for what he’s turned himself into and what he’s done. Deep down, he used to be kind and soft-spoken; these traits rarely surface nowadays, but the home has hopes of bringing him back to this state.
Likes
Dilaudid
Rain
Quiet
Nighttime
Sketching
Animals
Profanity
Hates
Himself
Sunlight/bright light
Fire/Smoke
Loud noises
Most people, lately
Being objectified
Being judged
“This god damn ‘humane’ withdrawal treatment.”
“And the doctors making me do it.”
“…Humane my ass, I’m gonna fucking die in here.”
Sexuality
Homosexual
Bio
Mitchell was born half a set of twins in Vancouver, BC to parents who weren’t all that fond of having children. From a young age the boys were more or less pushed aside; if they got in the way, they were met with sharp words or blunt instruments. Vancouver, being the most expensive place in Canada, wasn’t all too fond of his family either. They lived in a small, badly-upkept apartment complex in a bad part of town. Therefore, it was no surprise to anyone when, when the boys were sixteen, the complex burned down in an electrical fire. Mitchell had been trapped under a burning roof beam and rescued by firefighters, though not in time to prevent the severe burns and lung injuries from the smoke and fire. He was hospitalized for several weeks and given intravenous Dilaudid for the pain.
Mitchell's twin brother and only friend, Aaron, did not survive.
This was where his addiction began, with a mixture of chronic pain and crushing grief. Whenever the nurses decided his pain was great enough to warrant a dose of Dilaudid, he felt as if he were the only person in the world. Everything was good, everything was happy, and everything was right with the world. He forgot his grief, his pain, everything. He felt like he could do anything, like he was as light as air. It came to a point where, even after his pain had been declared mild enough to stop using Dilaudid, he felt as if the lingering pain was too much to go without it.
He began doctor shopping, at one time building up five prescriptions at a time, and using them all much faster than he should have. Shortly after his addiction became all-encompassing (roughly three months after his release) a falling-out with his parents prompted him to move out. At this point, he was almost seventeen and eligible to work, old enough to fake his name on an apartment application and live alone, escaping the home that felt too empty without his twin to comfort him. However, he had an increasingly harder time holding down a job and keeping up on rent, having spent almost all of his money on bribes or forged prescriptions, and missing many shifts in the midst of a total wipe-out high. His mental state began failing, becoming irritable, bitter and depressed. He even went so far as to turning to… less reputable work for much-needed drug money. He was evicted from his apartment and, desperate, took to hopping ERs with false pain. The rest, now, is history.
Extra
When Mitchell arrived at the group home, he was immediately placed into a “Humane Withdrawal” program to get him off the drugs ASAP (as he was dangerously on the verge of death or near-death at the time of his admission). This included intentionally quitting cold-turkey, under close supervision of a medical team including a doctor, therapist and addiction-specialized nutritionalist. He’s been placed on a cocktail of vitamins/medications (the vitamins for health and medications for blood pressure and respiration) and a strict diet and exercise plan. So far, he hates every fucking second of it and has already lashed out at doctors and nurses, although not quite to the point of violence. He is irritable and jumpy, constantly feeling like absolute shit and tries to avoid everybody. He’s rapidly becoming the centre’s resident dark cloud.
Misc
Mitchell knows ASL, as his twin brother was born deaf. This isn't a well-known fact to any beyond his therapist, as the most he'll ever use is the occasional gesture when he can't put his thoughts together into words. Using it somewhat saddens him, as it brings back memories of his brother.
It is one of many things people wouldn't expect from the grumpy drug addict; people can be so judgemental.