When I went to detox in 2005, I knew my stay would be tentative. It was in January and I was just going to clean up a bit so I wouldn’t need so much to get high anymore (cue New Year Resolution confetti). I doubt I am the only addict that has ever done this.
And yes, this was because I honestly thought that I didn’t have an addiction. What I had was more of an ‘inability to ration,’ but once I fixed that, I would be able to do drugs and drink recreationally like all my friends. I was too young, too smart and too pretty to be a drug addict or alcoholic. Things just got a little out of control was all. In five days, I’d be back home and things would be fine.
My first mistake was the whole time I was in detox, I kept comparing myself to everyone around me.
“Oh jeez, listen to this chic. Is she crazy? I am not this bad.”
“Holy shit. I grew up with that kid! He was insane then! Now I know I don’t belong here.”
“Oh my f*cking God, this place is nuttier than a squirrel convention.”
I went to the groups, said all the right shit and then, at the end of my days there – despite being asked to stay one more day because my insurance covered it – called my dad to come get me and I went home.
I got out of rehab, er, detox, on January 4, 2005. My sober date is May 24, 2006. So for sixteen months, my life was an absolute shit storm (more than previously).
Why didn’t standard detox work for me?
A) Because I didn’t want it to work for me.
B) Because they never let me feel bad or sick. They gave me phenobarbital for my withdrawal symptoms and good food and outside time and even let me smoke cigarettes.
C) I was only there for four days, which is pretty standard.
So did I really, truly detox?
After I got out, the first thing I did was call my dealer. “Hey, I just got out of detox, do you have anything?” I guess that week she had a conscience because she said she’d call me back and never did.
Not that week anyway.
So the universe gave me a shot; it was on my side. I went with it and even went to an NA meeting with my detox roommate with her big fake boobs (she got hooked on Percocet after a boob job). One meeting was all I attended. Maybe it was all the hugging after the NA meeting, but I didn’t like it.*
After a week, I was back at the bar and drinking. I wasn’t taking any pills… yet. I was convinced that I could drink because I drank in the past (before getting hooked on pills) and everything was fine! (Did I mention my insanity?)
It wasn’t long until I started drinking heavily, popping pills and snorting cocaine again. This time twice as hard as before I went into detox. I even got involved with a man I knew a while before and we were great together, but in March of 2005, he left my house after starting an argument. I didn’t think much of it until I found out that Monday that he went home and shot himself in the head.
My drugging and drinking escalated; despite not being right in the head before then, I was really twisted inside after that. I spiraled hard and fast unaware that the forming vortex would swallow more lives than just mine.
I eventually turned my life around… but this story needs to be told. So I decided this time frame will be the focus of my memoir.
Thanks for letting me share.