Hello everyone : Well I actually have a few minutes, or as long as Brian can remain patient, here at Zat and Sass's, to write a little. I'm sure you all have lost sleep since my posts have been short or non-existant this last week :O) But I have really have missed this little routine I have started, so here I go.
The last real blog I wrote I said that I would begin to get down to the hard stuff, filling you all in on the things that I swore no one would ever know about...when I was using I did any and everything I could to keep my secrets to myself, and not expose anyone else to my life. I never thought there would come a day where I would be open to that chapter in my life, and willing to discuss some of the things I am most ashamed of. A saying I hear constantly at meetings and in outpatient is "your only as sick as your secrets." No that doesn't mean I have to discuss and share EVERYTHING with everyone who might stumble across this blog...any no it isn't necessary for me to be as open as I'm being, many people think I'm crazy for doing this, putting it all out there. But I just lived for so long hiding, lying, pretending to be someone else, isolating, shameful, ect...that it's so theraputic for me to do this. It doesn't scare me that someday this might come back to haunt me, because I never plan on hiding who I am again...and until I die I will be an addict, hopefully I will just never be an active addict again. It doesn't define me, but it's a big part of who I am, how I will live my life...so no I am not worried that someone will stumble across this years from now and it will be used against me or anything like that - because the people who know me years from now will know who I am, and some things about my past...it is just such an awesome feeling to be totally out there, to not feel like you have any secrets, to expose yourself in such a raw and sometimes scary way...but this is me, this is my life, this is the good, bad and horrific - take me or leave me for who I am, what I've done, and how far I've come. I feel like this is the best approach for me, so that's why I have chosen to do this.
Anyhow - I'm going to tell you all about June 6th 2009 (the most horrible day of my life.) Let me just say that I have had some horrible days, I've seen my grandfather die lying next to me in a bed. I lost a 29 year old friend that I loved, confided in, depended on since I was 16, trusted, needed, dated, and again really loved. I've seen terrible things happen to family, my mom, my dad. I've been heartbroken, scared, sick, devistated...but never in my life have I felt the amount of trauma that I did on this day. Knowing that I put myself in that position, and that I hurt and scared the most important piece in my life (Brian) is obviously a hard pill to swallow. I also think that I don't really care if I'm judged, or looked down upon disclosing all that I have, or telling everyone what a piece of shit I really was is because - no one can hate me more then I hate myself for what happened. No one can be more disapointed, angry, disgusted, then I am in myself. Almost 8 months clean, and many counselors helping or trying to help me do something that is so important, and I am not even close...that something is Forgiving myself. I am not there yet, and that might be another reason that I'm not scared to put it all out there, because no one can think anything worse or different of me then I think of myself. Luckily I haven't gotten that response though, I've received love, kindness, forgiveness, understanding, openmindedness, pride, and non judgement from the majority of people that I've come in contact with since I've been home, and in all the people that have written since I began this blog - and for that I am eternally grateful. There I go again, rambling...lol.
June 6th. Westie and I were sick. His dealer called and said that if we wanted something we had to get there as quick as possible. I had no one to watch Brian, and Westie had no liscense or vehicle. I made a terrible decision and brought him with us. We told him that we were going to Warrensburg to get McDonalds and that we would take him to a playground afterwards. We drove down there. Westie dropped Brian and I off in a safe neighborhood so he could go meet the guy without us. (It sounds so pathetic but in my warped mind I felt like I was terrible for bringing him, but that I could protect him from anything that had to do with the drug part of the trip, that for him it would just be a ride and a trip to a playground and a happy meal...so I convinced myself that it was ok.) Westie showed back up after just a few minutes and we got in the car. He only was able to get 4 bags, which was just enough to get me unsick. He called another dealer and said he could get more from him and it would be just a quick run up the road. So he gave me the 4 bags and I went behind a tree in a parking lot and did them to get "unsick" but to my surprise actually got a little high too. See in the end of my addiction I barely ever got high, I usually just had enough to not get sick, and to feel normal...the high wasn't something I was ever even expecting at the end...just the not feeling terribly sick was what I usually was able to obtain. Then he dropped us back of and drove away. Since I wasn't withdrawing anymore I was all about going for a little walk, chit chatting with Brian, even running around playing games. There was a wedding going on up the road at a church and I even pointed out how beautiful the bride was, and we talked about how mommy wished that her and daddy had had a big wedding. Then we sat down next to a tree and waited for Westie. He pulled up about 5 minutes later. We got into the car, and Westie handed him a happy meal that he had picked up on the way back to get us. I was in the passenger seat, Westie was in the driver seat...and he was putting the bag's and the rigs away and counting them...all the stuff was on his lap. All of a sudden I looked behind the car and saw two cops running full speed at my car. They pulled us out and had us handcuffed within seconds. Westie kept saying that all the drugs were his, and that I had nothing to do with it. They put him in one car, and me in Brian in another. Brian was terrified, I was terrified. We got to the station and I found out that I was being charged with Endangering the Welfare of a child...I forgot how it was worded, but not physically endangering, emotionally...it said something like "acting in a manner that was not emotionally acceptable for a childs wellbeing." Something like that. They handcuffed me to a bench, and Brian sat next to me eating doritos and talking to me. I kept telling him that I was ok, that Westie was ok, that he was ok, and that everything would be ok. I was delusional - I had never been in trouble before, I knew that even that charge was only a misdemenor, I thought I would be released with a court date at a later time. I had no idea what was about to happen, it never crossed my mind, I was so nieve.
Within 15 minutes to men in suits showed up and told me that they were from Schenectady social services, CPS...child protective services. They told me that it was too late to contact anyone in my family to pick him up...that it was a weekend...and that he would have to go with them until at least Monday. This was 5 PM on Sat. At that moment I fell apart which obviously scared Brian more. They told me to calm down for his sake, but I couldn't pull myself together. Brian crawled up on me and wrapped his arms around my neck, screaming. I told him it was going to be ok, and that I would see him soon, and that he had to be a strong boy until I could pick him up, or his dad. They had to physically rip him off of me and carry him outside into a car. At that moment I collapsed. I had never been away from him, only 3 nights when I went to detox, never before then and never after. A cop actually had to scoop me off of the floor and try to calm me down, which he couldn't. I threw up, hyperventilated, I lost it.
I then saw a judge who set a $500 bail and told me that I was going to jail. And I will continue the story later at another time.
For me to even relive that, to type it is so painful. I play it out almost every night in my head, and it never gets easier. I have recently been diagnosed with PTSD, post tramatic stress disorder, because of those few hours. There are times when Brian cries and I start shaking, and having an panic attack and need to seperate myself from him. I'm not trying to make anyone feel sorry for me, I did this, I did this horrible thing that made my child have to feel such pain...I'm just trying to get you to understand what happened.
I will continue later about what happened with me from there but it's important that I tell you how Brian made out in those next few days. He went to a foster family for 2 days, who he's told me was kind to him, let him watch cartoons, and sat up with him all night when he was scared. I wish I could thank them. Then Monday morning Jim had a CPS worker from our county come to Gregs house and approve it for temp. custody to be granted to Jim until further investigations were conducted - just to get him home ASAP. So as soon as they got the ok, Greg and Jim drove to Schenectady at their Social Service building and picked up our son. He was physically in good shape, and even emotionally pretty well. He asked a lot of questions, he asked if I was ok, if Westie was ok, he asked if I would ever be home again, and if he would even get to see me again...but for the most part once he got home, back to all the people that loved him, he did pretty well, was pretty strong. He of course missed me and cried for me, but everyone banded together to do all they could to keep him busy and comfortable and secure. Again like I said, I will continue this at another time.
I'm physically shaking just from writing this all and living it again in my mind...but I'm glad that I did, because now people know the truth. Like I said there were so many worse stories going around that I needed to tell this...as horrific as this was, there is no need for people to think of it as being any worse, it was terrible enough. I know this is a hard thing to read and then not think ill of me after. When a child is emotionally harmed like that you have every right to be disgusted with the person who caused that to happen. But that's part of what I'm doing here, so I had to.
Please know 100% that since I've been home I have done all in my power to be the mom he deserves...and to ensure that nothing like this ever happens again. I can't make up for it, but I can give him the life he deserves now and hope that he remembers the good things more then the bad when he grows up. I love my son, he is my entire heart, I would die for him in a second without thinking twice about it...I always have...but I made some fucking terrible choices and did a lot of damage when I was powerless to my addiction, and when I was as fucked up as I was. Ok that's it for now.
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