(Big breath in...hold...exhale through the nose...repeat) Alright so that's a tad rediculous and a little dramatic - but I really am nervous about this part of my "blogging project." I had mentioned in an earlier post that there are a lot of different rumors going around and rumors that have been around since I was arrested, about what really happend that day. See, the truth is horrific enough, but of course people as a whole (I've been guilty of it too) tend to blow stories like this into even bigger and badder then what the reality is and was. So if I truly want to be honest and open here then it really is about time that I tell the facts, as awful as they are, about what really happend on June 6th, 2009, the day I was arrested. (Big breath in...) If I want anyone to have any chance of understanding any part of my story then I have to begin before that day and in the next few posts here I will attempt to tell the majority of what it will take to make anyone understand the progression of what has occured in the last 4 years of my life. In my first blog, I copied and pasted a speach that I had written for outpatient, and to give to my primary care physician...if you read that it gives you a broad, condensed version of my story, so if you have the time to really try to be filled in on everything then I really would start with that.
I cannot possibly explain everything so here is a quick time-line, and then I'll just have to pick sections of it to write about in greater detail.
July 2005 - Brian was born and I took my first few vicodins from my parents medicine cabinet because I legitimately was in immense pain. I had never taken them before and had no idea what can of worms these first few innocent pills would open. The next few months I would continue taking one or two pills a day, and now it wasn't for pain it was for the other side effects. I was alone with Brian a lot when he was an infant, I was slightly depressed, overwhelmed and lonely. The Vicodins made me feel euphoric, motivated to do stuff about the house, numb to all the things in my life that weren't going well. Suddenly I handled being alone so much better, I didn't mind that I was sleep deprived and taking care of Brian, I loved the motivation it gave me to clean the house, and do anything else productive. They gave me energy, and a false sense of happiness - I immediately felt like I was a better mom, daughter, wife, human when I had these pills in my system.
February 2006 - We moved into an apartment in Chestertown, and I found a Dr. that was extremely loose with his script pad and obtainted my very own perscription of Vicodin and my habit really began to grow. I was getting full blown "sick" when I was without, feeling like I was dying and doing anything I could to avoid the withdrawls...I began stealing pills from my dad in much bigger quantities because opiate tolerances grow very rapidly. I worked a little at a movie rental store, but called in if I was without my pills and unable to function, eventually quitting the job. Jim did a short stint at Lincoln Logs, which also didn't last long - soon we were evicted and back living with my parents.
2007 (non-specifically) My tolerance was getting out of control. 10mg Vicodins generally cost $5.00/pill when you purchase them illegally...and for me to get high, or even to a point to just feel "normal" it would cost me an easy $40.00 a day...not to mention that Jim was eating them too. I won't get into Jim's personal story with pills very much, but he did use them much like I did - but there was always a difference between us and our addictions. I always said that if it was alcohol he would have been the drunk and I would have been the alcoholic - although he was physically addicted the mental part was no where near how controlling as it was for me. When he was "sick" he would just go to bed, I would do anything I could to figure a way out to get something. That's his shit though and I won't go far into it, but small things are important to touch on just to explain my situation. I also stopped being scared of taking other pharmy's...I would eat any opiate I could get my hands on, such as Percocet, Oxycontin, Fentanyl, Morphine, Methadone, ect. By taking much stronger pills or pain patches my tolerance grew and grew...meaning the withdrawls were scarier when I went through them, it cost more to get high, basically more and more things were getting out of control.
Then we moved again to another apartment, on the same "block" as my parents house. It was a great place, perfect for us and Brian, and affordable. Jim was working at the ski shop at Gore and we started hanging out with Greg and Westie most of the time. *Westie was the guy I got arrested with, *Greg was a dear friend who also used, but now lives in Kentucky and has cleaned up completely for even a few months more then I have. Soon I tried heroin for the first time, snorting. I had always said "at least I'm not a heroin addict" and then all of a sudden, just like that, I was. I had been extremely sick one day, and I was given a tiny "bump" just to take the edge off, and not only did I get unsick, I got high...which felt exactly like it did with pills. Again I justified what was happening because I truly believed that I was a better mom when I was high, and whenever I was without I was so sick I could barely get off the couch, much less play with Brian the way I should have been.
2008 - The heroin made the pills obselete, and I was now doing dope like I had been taking pills. I also was making the drive to Schenectady often, for a few free bags I would drive Westie down there to pick up. Jim also was using...again there was a difference though that is hard to explain but was always present. He also made himself perfectly clear where he drew the line, which was 100% with needles. He warned me and our friends who did use needles that if I even did it he would leave me and kill them for helping me do it. Eventually I needed to get high badly enough that I did not care about what Jim might do and started shooting up. I hid it for a decent amount of time, and I'm still not sure how I got away with it for as long as I did, but I did.
I went to Glens Falls hospital with Greg in August of 2008. I found an amazing doctor who actually was allowed to write scripts of Suboxone and got a 2 week supply so I could detox myself at home. I had NEVER spent a night away from Brian since he was born, so this seemed like the best way to go about detoxing, so I could stay home. I was clean for maybe 3 weeks, then picked up again. Jim and I also started our "on again, off again" relationship. He was leaving and staying with friends on a regular basis, and we were fighting constantly. I also started going behind his back again and getting high the way I wanted to.
2009 - Jim and I's marriage was a total mess. I made the decision to go to Saint Peters in Albany, a detox. I was there for 5 days and I wanted so badly to go to an inpatient rehab, I knew 5 days was no where near enough time for me to even have a chance...but no one back home made that seem like a possibility because of Brian being so devistated when I wasn't home. So I went home, and was high within a few weeks. Jim finally left for what I believed was for good. He moved in with Greggy Poops, a very good friend of my entire families, a different Greg then our other friend. I tried going to meetings, and started bringing Westie with me because he was trying to get clean as well...he had gotten arrested back in Jan. and was awaiting sentencing but knew that either way he was going to prison for a little while, and did not want to risk having to kick in jail...so he was trying hard to cut the shit out. Long story short one night on our way to a meeting, I drove right past exit 18 and told him that we were going to Schenectady.
There began my hardcore, no holds bar, leap off the deap end. I went from a drug addict to a full blown junkie, from March until June 6th I was 100% consumed with the buying, using and finding ways to get more lifestyle. I was so out of control and powerless over the situation that I think I just gave up and gave in. It sounds weak, and pathetic I know...and many people don't believe that it's a disease, or that you really are powerless - many people believe that it all comes down to willpower and strength, it truly doesn't. I didn't wake up one morning and say " I want to be a heroin addict." I had always believed that I would have been the most amazing mother in the world, a perfect soccer mom, housewife, suburban queen. The domino affect that happend after my first few pills had so much power over me. I was living every day - especially at this point - terrified, knowing that I was going to die or end up in prison. I was scared all the time, I was more ashamed then anyone who hasn't been there can imagine.
Westie and I began spending 24/7 together, mostly as friends who had no one else but in part as a dysfunctional drug addicted couple. Along with us was my innocent 3 year old son. It's hard to break the stereotypes of what you believe a heroin addict looks like, or how they act. I wasn't "nodded off" 20 hours a day with a needle sticking out of my arm. We didn't neglect him as you see in horrific movie scenes, with children deprived of clothes, food, or left alone unbathes for hours on end. When I wasn't dopesick, when we weren't sick, we were taking him to playgrounds, going hiking, throwing stones in the river. He was exposed to my lifestyle more then any child should ever be...but I tried as hard as I could at that time to have him live the most normal life as he could with me as a mother. He was living without structure although, because his mom's routine depended upon whether or not she had drugs that day. So no he wasn't malnurished, tattered clothed, wandering the roads alone while I was fucked up...but he was not being raised the way a beautiful 3 year old should have been being raised.
Phew, ok that's enough for now. Tomorrow I will do what is hardest for me and describe what happened the day of my arrest. I heard one of the rumor's though is that I was found by the cops with Westie passed out in my car with needles sticking out of our arms, and that we had been that way for 10 hours with Brian in the back seat....let me put that rumor to rest right now and assure you all that that was not what occured. Like I said, the truth is horrible enough, there is no need to make it even worse.
I have written long enough, and I hope that I didn't jump all over the place too much as to where you can't even understand the basics, the way things went from bad to worse. It's hard trying to fill you in on 4 years without boring you to tears, typing so much my fingers bleed, ect....but it's important to me that before I continue writing about my life now, that you know all know about how it was, how bad it got, and how big the hole really is that I'm trying to climb out of. Thank you all for taking the time to know. Until next time ... :O)
Quick Krista 411 of the day...
When I was 15 a friend of mine and I watched a pageant on TV. She was popular in general, but mostly with the boys - they all loved her. Well as a semi-joke we both entered the pageant...she didn't even get a call back, while I (the school outcast) got a call back and a slot in the actual pageant...which was Miss Teen NY. I couldn't believe it - I had never thought of doing anything like that, and questioned whether or not it would be something I'd even enjoy doing....but I did. Come on, I was 1 out of 52 girls in the state who got chosen, out of thousands of applicants, I was so excited and proud I just had to do it. It was in Albany, and I had a blast. I met some awesome girls, and lived like I was part of a huge pj party for 3 days....on the final day was the pageant, and I wasn't in the top 12 so my journey ended there - I did find out though that I ended up in 16th place, which I was pretty proud of. For some reason it's embarrassing sometimes to even mention that to people, it's not like I bring it up in every day conversation...and I don't know why I feel that way, as I said I should be proud of it, and it was something I had so much fun doing, and something that gave me a little confidence for the first time in my life. Okay so there's that, lol.
PS This thing doesn't have a spell checker, so I'm sorry if there are a lot of typo's and misspelled words.
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