One who does not understand
addiction may make such comments as, “Just don’t drink.”, “Just have two
and stop”, “Just smoke pot”, or “Don’t you love your kids?”
The latter is the worst one. Of course, I love my children – Rich’s
children. My love for them can be
painful. I know what they lost. They lost the sweetest guy in the world. I imagine all the would have been and the
what should have been – all the laughs, the love, the jokes, the hugs, the
silliness. All gone.
If the love I have for my
children was the cure, I wouldn’t have a disease.
Addiction doesn’t work that way. Addiction ultimately wants one thing from me –
my life. Addiction is cunning, baffling
and powerful. It’s sneaky. It started out by taking away my fear – if only
for a few hours at a time. Then it made
me chase it. It made me believe I needed
it. It made me beg for it and be
consumed by it. Soon, it was all I could
think about. Soon, it was all I wanted. Soon, it took priority.
Slowly, it turned on me. As I gave it everything, it took more. It
took my money. It took my common
sense. It took my personality. It took my self-worth. It took my self-respect. It took my self-esteem.
It left behind wreckage and
carnage, pain, tears, loathing and a dismal life hardly worth living. It left me vulnerable to predators.
Winter 2010 - 2011
The boyfriend thought I needed to
stay busy and talked me into working at his law practice. I was nearly dysfunctional. I did not want to, but I figured I couldn’t
get away with sitting at home feeling sorry for myself any longer.
I was answering his phone and
mailing his letters. I was filing
motions at the courthouse (which was kinda fun). However, resentments began to spring up
because I knew this wasn’t what I was gifted to do. I have a master’s degree, but I was so
depleted I could barely turn on the computer let alone put together a resume
and job hunt – or speak to another human!
I’m sure I was not hirable.
I would leave mid day to go to noon
recovery meetings downtown. I still had
no license so I had to take a bus into the city (when we stayed at home) and
one back in time to get the kids off the school bus. I hated it and became more and more
resentful.
He also wanted me to support and
be involved with his pro-marijuana “cause”.
Um, really? I’m an addict.
I am 100% in favor of legalizing
marijuana. I don’t see the need to list my reasons.
However, it is absolutely derelict
for one to claim it is not addictive.
Addictive personalities will abuse it, wreck their cars and neglect
their children under its influence. A
drug is a drug is a drug. Period. If you aren’t an addict – enjoy! If you are – be prepared for the
consequences.
As for this addict, when I left
the office to go to a meeting, I soon slipped into the bar around the corner
instead. For a few minutes there was
relief from all the irritants and resentments.
I’d go back to the office glassy eyed and pretend I was doing the next
right thing. On my way to catch the bus
home I’d stop at the Wine and Spirits and buy the biggest bottle of wine I
could fit in my backpack, thinking, “This should get me through the evening.”
A typical evening would look
something like this. The six (or 4
depending on the week) of us would go out to dinner. He’d drink his (at least) two martinis AT
me. He’d comment on how it was pathetic
that I couldn’t enjoy a glass or two of wine and be happy. He’d tell me how unsupportive I was because I
didn’t embrace his marijuana advocacy.
He’d tell me he was important and needed to be able to drink to turn off
his brain. He’d tell me he was a catch
for someone like me. He’d bark at my
children. After dinner, the kids and I
would go to his apartment for the night.
He’d go into his bathroom and smoke a joint. At least when he came out he wasn’t as mean. Festering resentments…
I had a ruse I pulled quite
often. I would say I needed Diet Coke. He’d give me the keys to his car and I’d
drive to the Giant Eagle on Murray Avenue.
I’d park in the lot and walk across the street to a restaurant and order
a drink at the bar. I’d drink two or
three as fast as I could. I’d then run
into the store, grab the soda and go back to the apartment feeling
satisfied. Often, I’d stop at the liquor
store and sneak a bottle back with me. I’d
pretend I couldn’t sleep and stay out in the living room all night to drink it.
A Wednesday night in February was
particularly irritating. I left with his
car (remember, no license) to get Diet Coke. That time I went too far. I have no idea how many drinks I had, how
much money I spent or how I got back to his place.
I work up with a screaming headache,
ripped jeans and bloody knees. He was a
hue of purple that I had never seen before.
I scrambled and gathered my kids’ things together and ran outside to
load the car to get them back to the North Hills in time for school. No car.
NO CAR! I lost the man’s car! Oh. My. God.
I didn’t even know what to
say. So, I said, “I’ll be right back.” I ran the whole way down to the Giant Eagle
crying. Thankfully, the car was where I
parked it and I had the keys! Thank God
I didn’t drive that car the night before.
If I learned anything from my
mother, it’s – if you don’t talk about it, it doesn’t exist. We drove to the kids’ school in silence. I could feel the heat of his anger.
I had to go inside the school to
sign the kids in because they were late.
I was a visible mess. The
principal followed me out the door and asked me if I was ok. I was truthful and told her that I
relapsed. She thought I was drinking
that morning, but I assured her it was the night before. She asked if the boyfriend was also
drinking. I said he had his usual
martinis at dinner.
He dropped me off at home and I
figured our relationship was over. I
went in and passed out.
I’m sure I found my way to
another bottle of wine before the kids got home. I don’t even know if I talked to the
boyfriend that night. I was probably
hiding and hoping it would pass - as it usually did.
The next morning, Friday, I got
the kids on the school bus. I had the
shakes and dry heaves as usual. I drank
a glass of wine to take the edge off and went back to bed.
I was roused by knocking at my
door about an hour later. I looked out
the window and saw two women. I assumed
they were Jehovah’s Witnesses and ignored them.
When they were gone I went down
to find a notice taped on my door.
Allegheny County was taking immediate
and emergency custody of my children.
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