Although I continued to do drugs after that day, never was I as bad, as I was, living with Elvis. Recovering from the hard core use of drugs in Austin did not include any withdrawals. I slept for days getting up to eat and drink only. Once I awoke from the stupor things for me did not change much. I went back to my boyfriend with the drug dealing family. I did not get a job. He did not do drugs. He ended up being a pretty good guy. Showed me what it was like to go on dates. Dinners and movies. Camping and Museums. It had been a long time since any of that had happened in my life.
Never being one to be told what to do I would skip out and go on binges every now and again. Staying for days at a time with people I barely knew doing speed. I would also get my hands on cocaine every now and again. I remember being super paranoid. I was living in my parents home and would do the drugs at night when every one was asleep. In this bedroom I lived in it was originally built for my grandmother. It is attached to the house through the kitchen, has its own restroom and door to the outside. So, I would stay in this room snorting coke, out of my mind. I would go from the peephole on the outside door thinking a car was coming up the driveway to lying on the floor looking under the door thinking my mom was coming through the kitchen. Back and forth , back and forth. This would go on forever. Making sure the blinds were all pulled. Hoping no one could see me. Freaked out someone was coming. Someone, anyone,no one. No one ever came. There was never any shadows under the door. There were no light coming up the drive. Something had happened to me. I was no longer the same person. Scared of my own shadow. The guilt and shame of being a drug user had caught up with me and this was all I could do. I was hiding. Hiding from who. Insanity began to creep in.
What happened next was that I was arrested again. For distribution of a controlled substance. This was not good. Likely that I was facing prison. Already had revoked my probation. Now this. Not even capable of doing much on my own any longer. I left it up to my lawyer and parents to handle this next mess I made. What came out of it was I was to be placed in a drug treatment center. Looking around at a few places nothing could be decided on. It was a choice I had . Treatment or one year in prison. hmmmm.... Well let me think..... Some of the places we went to were not going to work for me I told my parents I will do the time before I stay a year in this cult like environment. My poor parents, all that I put them through. The fear that there youngest daughter was about to spend time in a state penitentiary. Finally my lawyer found one that would take me. It had a 3month program, it was state run, but it had a waiting list. 3-4 months wait.
Immediately I stopped smoking pot but other drugs that washed out of your system in a few days I was doing up until about 3 days before being admitted. Not all the time. Growing a lot closer to my own family during this time we were able to heal a little. As much as I knew how to. Being emotionally stunted from the drugs is something that most people know nothing about. Neither did I. I was soon to learn.
One thing that happened during this time of me being home and being off a continuous feed of drugs is that my weight got out of control. I gained about 60 -70 pounds in less than a years time. I had begun the process all over with another source. People don't quite get as upset with you just because you are eating. They noticed and I got comments from my boyfriends family but for all I knew, and I didn't know much at the time, it was not a bad thing. I had replaced one addiction with another. Weaned myself off of drugs by using food. Ohhh. That makes me sick. I wish I could have or would have known. I didn't know.
I will stop here as I am about to enter rehab. This is the turning point in my life. Where I switched addictions again. Back to food. Documenting this part of my life took me a while to do. Glad to be done. Glad it is all in this room. Drugs for me are a thing of the past and bringing them up again has made me vulnerable at times. Trying to remember just the bad stuff is hard. Good times swirled through my head. The end result for me was tragic. I was a mess. Still not as strong of a person as I would like to be. Constantly having to give myself little pep talks to get through.
No comments:
Post a Comment