(Spring 2010)
The principal was relieved that I
said the words, “I need help.” I
deflated into a chair in her office, weeping.
She picked up the phone and made several calls. She was obligated to call Children, Youth
Services. She called my friend, Kelly,
to come pick up me and the kids.
We all spoke in her office for a
while. I agreed to go back to
inpatient. Kelly agreed to take the kids
to her house and take care of our cats while I was there. We were up to two at this point.
Kelly drove me home. The kids went with her. I was going into withdrawal so I walked up to
the Wine and Spirits store. I was
supposed to be packing an overnight bag for the kids.
When I came to the next morning, I
was soaked with sweat and my heart was racing.
I knew it was bad. I was sure I
wasn’t going to live until there was a bed open (in inpatient).
I’m not sure how I made it to the
ER at Passavant. I don’t know if Kelly
took me or if I asked a neighbor. I
really did know I was sick. I just didn’t
want to be. I wanted to be cute, smart
and fun again. I was barely a shadow of
myself.
In the ER, I was immediately on an
IV and Librium.
There were bruises all over me
that I couldn’t explain. I was
dehydrated and anemic.
The ER staff was able to
immediately secure a bed for me in treatment.
It was back to Pyramid, but this time in Altoona instead of Wilkinsburg.
I medically detoxed for the
second time. What I disliked most about
detox was my “time” didn’t begin until one is in the actual rehab part of the
stay. What I liked most during detox was
I could stay up and watch TV and have no schedule.
After about 3 days I moved to a
room. My roommate was a young heroin
addict. She told me she couldn’t believe
I was there for just alcohol. “Um, I
wasn’t sipping it out of crystal with my pinky extended”, Miss Dual Diagnosis! (lol)
Folks in rehab can sure be
clicky. Of course, I didn’t fit in! So, I immediately went into my survival mode
and had to prove I was the smartest in the room, at all times.
Meanwhile, in crazy-town where
the boyfriend lived, he had his secretary type me up a nice letter. He let me know he was angry and wanted to
break up, but decided to give me another chance if I promised to try harder. Gee, thanks, jackass.
Honestly, I was terrified that he
would break up with me over this. That’s
where most of my energy and thoughts were – on him. I was beginning to convince myself that I
loved him and the kids and I needed him.
I was sick.
Ethan turned six years old
without me there. Shameful.
In group and individual therapy I
was my manipulative self. Again, I could
talk the talk. All I wanted was
out. My new phrase became, “Change I
must or die I will.” There was truth in
the phrase, but not in my heart. I just
wanted to be left alone.
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