Thursday, February 11, 2010

Luxury the Right Way

As a former user and abuser of drugs, specifically opiates, I saw life through a very special pair of glasses. In short the only people in my life that mattered at all to me were the ones supplying me with what ever I needed at the moment, or help the ticket to get to it. For example, it wouldn’t be uncommon for you to find me wandering around the subways offering a quickie to the next guy who stepped of the train for a few bucks.
I could also be found digging in dumpsters for thrown out treasures that I could pawn for money. It wasn’t rare to find me swiping a few candy bars off the shelves at the grocery store to sell to the kids in the park.
When it came to making a few bucks to get a fix, I was a pro. I may not have been legal but I always got my ultimate goal.
I was sort of staying a shelter and one day found a bulletin hanging up about drug treatment services. I grabbed it but I don’t think I ever read it.
I was found 2 days later with it in my pocket when the cops picked me up for loitering and prostitution. The arresting officer looked at and laughed at me. He said that if I had any sense I would look into it but judging by the state I was in I was too far gone.
My parents were notified about my arrest, I was barely 18, a runaway. I hadn’t spoken to them since I left 3 years ago. It was my mother who posted my bail and took me back to California.
The trip was awkward, she talked to me as if I had never left. She told me about all my friends and how the dog had died last fall. She told me about the new shopping center that was finished just in time for Christmas this last year. Half way home I broke into tears, none stop wailing- I think I had embarrassed her at that point. She wrapped a blanket around me and gave me her shoulder to cry on.
I told her about what I had been doing, how I had been living. She didn’t cry, or yell, or anything she just kept nodding her head. I then told her what the cop had said to me. She looked at me and asked how I felt about that and if I was ready to do something about it.
I told her that I was and she handed me several pamphlets about drug rehab programs, and about several different drug treatment centers.
We read through them for the rest of the flight of some gingerale and pretzels. I was amazed about how many different treatments were available and the different programs.
I was checked into one about a week after coming home, my father didn’t talk to me much, I knew I had hurt him. I was daddy’s one and only little girl out of 3 kids.
I am home again, and we are building our relationship again, we don’t talk about before. We aren’t ready, but it feels good to have my Daddy back.

No comments:

Post a Comment