The moments that mark your life ( Part 5)

I parked my silver Toyota Camry in the parking lot of the emergency room and took a deep breath. My car was a mess because I had basically been on the run, going from motel to motel. I had not been back to my home since the drug bust went down, so throughout the weekend I had to buy clothes, personal hygiene products, food, drinks, etc. I had to buy everything because I had walked out of Lakeview Centennial High School on April 19^th with only my purse. I sat in my car, trying to muster up the courage to walk in  the hospital and announce that I was a drug addict, a fact I had never admitted before that day. As I looked through my car, I picked up the plastic baggie that had traces of Meth left in it and just stared at it. Thoughts began to creep in and finally bombard my mind: “do the rest of the drugs”, “go ride around and finish what you have then come back”, to  “throw the drugs away and check into that hospital”. Again, I took a deep shuttered breath, and placed the baggie into a paper sack I had from McDonalds and got out of my car.  Slowly I walked to a barrel that was set under a tree and paused , looking at the bag one last time before shoving it  deep into the hospital trash , turning quickly I ran into the hospital emergency room. Breaking down into tears, I told the lady in the admission’s office that I was a drug addict, and I needed help .

I was admitted into the hospital and assessed . I was sent to the fourth floor, for patients dealing with substance abuse issues as well as mental problems. I was so scared, but I was also relieved, in a way, I had finally surrendered.

Almost every bed on the fourth floor was occupied and there was a dayroom with fruit and juice for the patients. As I wandered into the dayroom I glanced around at the other people. There was one lady sitting alone and shaking involuntarily,  at random times she would swat at the air in front of her as if there was something there but it was only air. She had a haggard look that I recognized was from extreme alcohol abuse. A tear rolled down my cheek as I remembered my mother hallucinating and  swatting at the imaginary spiders . During those episodes I would have to rush her to a hospital much like the one where I was now a patient. She looked like my mother did before she died. It had been almost 22 years since mother passed . I swallowed hard at the irony that I wasn’t really any different than my mom. As I turned to return to my room I  caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror and shuddered slightly. . I looked so tired and worn, I turned quickly so I wouldn’t have to look at myself. Walking out of the dayroom I smiled at the lady  sadly, my heart broke for both of us,  but she just stared off into space.

After returning to my room I sat down rubbing my eyes hoping I could finally get some much needed rest. But before I could do that there was a phone call I needed to make. It was a phone call I dreaded but I had to let my dad know what was going on. There was no one else to call. All of the sudden I felt extremely alone. Picking up the phone I tried repeatedly to make the call but I just couldn’t do it. The thought of his reaction,  his anger , his disappointment, and ultimately his criticism was too much. I took the easy way out and  called his ex-wife and told her what had happened. She said she would let him know.

Finally I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep hoping that I would wake up and this would all be a nightmare. Hoping  I would wake up and it would be the morning of  April 19 and I would  be able to hug Hailey, Alexis , and Sammy and get them ready for school.  But I woke hours later  to the sounds of  a patient screaming and I realized I  was still a patient in the mental ward of Baylor Richardson. When I was released I got into my silver Camry and drove to my fathers house. It was a long drive to Rockwall and I was so scared to come face to face with him. But I had no where else to go and I had no one else to turn to.

The moments that mark your life ( Part 4 )

I had been calling in sick to work and I knew I had to do something different. I couldn’t continue hiding. It was Tuesday April 24, 2001; I had been on the run for 6 days.  After I used the automated system to get a substitute teacher I sat on the edge of the bed with my head in my hands.  Sobbing uncontrollably I began to entertain thoughts of ending my life. I couldn’t see a way out of this mess. There was such shame and hopelessness and the thought of others finding out who I had become terrified me, I hated myself.  Taking a deep breath I tried to calm down and catch my breath just wishing that I had someone to call who loved me, who cared about me, but I was alone. I missed my sister Kathey so badly.

As I thought of Kathey , my rock , my anchor,  the heart wrenching sobs began again and continued until I was exhausted still sitting on the side of that bed in that trashy motel. I laid on my back and looked at the dirty ceiling trying to make a plan trying to stop the voices in my head that kept mocking me, screaming  “Everyone will be better off if you're dead” ,  “You're worthless”, "There is no way out of this". The voices were eerily familiar- taunting, accusing. They were the same voices I heard after momma died. They were dark and demonic, I put my hands on each side of my head pressing as hard as I could,  hoping I could silence them.   

Finally I sat up and mustered up the courage to make a phone call and for some reason called the Garland Independent School District’s benefits office. To this day I can’t remember who I talked to, but she was an angel sent from God. Crying, in desperation, I told her I was in a lot of trouble with the police, on drugs, and I didn’t know what to do. The pain, fear, and desperation could be heard in my voice.   She told me, in the kindest, gentlest voice, to calm down, because that was what she was there for. She suggested I check into Baylor Richardson Hospital to be assessed, reminding me that I had insurance that I should access. She told me things were going to get better. She asked that I please not do anything drastic. I think she was crying too, because she was scared for me and for what I might do to myself. She then offered to call my school’s principal and tell him what was happening. Relief flooded my body because she didn’t judge me, she didn’t think I was horrible, she just knew I was in trouble and needed help. I needed her and her reaction more than anything that day. To be honest, I don’t know what I would have done if she hadn’t been so kind. I never thought I would consider suicide, because I saw what my brother’s suicide did to my family but I was entertaining those thoughts because I was completely without hope that day. It has been said man can live forty days without food about three days without water, about eight minutes without air, but only for one second without hope. My seconds were slowly counting down until she spoke life to me , relighting the smoldering wick of hope that was almost snuffed out.  On my own I couldn’t see a way out. I didn’t want people to see the real me and what I had become. I was covered in shame and did not feel I could face anyone. Look anyone in the eye. But she looked past all that and treated me with love and respect. I have thought about her often and her impact on my life that day. It was huge. I strive to treat everyone I come into contact with the same way she treated me that day. I fail sometimes, but the burning memory of the despair I felt that morning is always warm in my heart. When she treated me with love and acceptance, it gave me hope. Isn’t it amazing how a little kindness and love changed a potentially tragic situation? It takes so little to be loving and kind. I took her advice and drove straight to Baylor Richardson.

(to be continued)

There are moments that mark your life ( Part 3 )

After I had slept for a little  while  (at  the Budget Suites off Jupiter and Kingsley in Garland) I got some food at the Waffle House around the corner. It is amazing  how I remember, in detail, what I ordered. I selected the Patty Melt with Fries and a Coke . To this day, that is my favorite thing to eat at Waffle House. Food can be comforting, and maybe it was the only comforting thing at that crazy  time  in my life. When I think about going to that Waffle House and making small talk with the waitress, the feelings that wash over me are ones of comfort and normalcy. The rest of the world was still revolving although my world was falling apart.  I am very grateful for that because everything else was so chaotic and out of control. Having a regular conversation with a waitress assured me that all could return to normal. They looked at me and saw a normal girl ordering and eating a Patty Melt and a Coke. It gave me a strange sense of hope.

After I ate. I drove to south Dallas to pick up my rent. Frank was able to give me half of it, so I could finally relax. The next thing I did was call an attorney. I didn’t have a clue what that would cost and I didn’t even know if I needed representation. What I needed was advice. He called Rockwall and, as far as he knew, there was not a warrant for my arrest, or at least it was not yet public. He said they probably had one “in their pocket” and would arrest me. He advised me to stay out of Rockwall. He really wouldn’t offer more advice until I could retain him, for a cost of $5,000, which I did not have. I had about $600 in my pocket, but I needed that to pay for my room and to live on. Being a drug addict, I also I wanted and needed drugs. I gave him $200 as a down payment and left, not sure what to do, or where to go.

My next stop, sadly enough, was to see my dealer. I was nervous because I didn’t know if they knew my husband had been arrested. If they did, I didn’t think they would sell me any drugs (it was about me and my needs; the selfish mind of the addict). They would be scared that my husband was going to turn them in. But when I called it all seemed “normal", and when I went by, I could tell they didn’t know anything. I left shortly after and went back to my motel room. I tried to call my kids, CPS had given custody to my husband’s parents. Crying, I begged to be able to talk to them but they wouldn’t let me. They kept telling me to turn myself in. I told them I didn’t have a warrant, but it didn’t matter; I was not allowed any contact. I hung up the phone, I was extremely worried about my kids; they must have been so very scared. I remember the four of us sitting in my car as they described the conversation  with the CPS investigator the week prior. I hugged each of them and promised nothing bad was going to happen. I promised it was going to be okay. But my promises were empty. I could not stop the drug abuse. I was too weak, and now CPS had come and taken them out of school in front of their friends. It must have been horrible. Alexis and Sammy were so young; I don’t know what they must have thought. Hailey, my oldest and in 6^th grade at the time, describes that as the worst moment of her life. She was crying uncontrollably, because her world was rocked to its core. The addiction had such a grip on me. I watched as Hailey withdrew into isolation. My little girl, who was once outgoing and full of life, was slowly crawling into a shell because of me.  I did not have the power within me to stop doing drugs. That is what addiction does, it overpowers you. It takes control of your life.

I love my children more than anything, but I was helpless to my addiction. I was too proud and too scared to admit that I had a problem. On April 19^th, my addiction robbed me of everything that I loved, valued, and held dearly in life. Sadly, it was going to get a whole lot worse before it got any better.

It had been a very long weekend and I was basically on the run. My kids were gone (thankfully CPS turned them over to my husband’s parents), my husband was locked up with no chance for bond, and I was too scared to call my Dad.  I was all alone in a motel room not knowing what to do. It was the most desperate and alone I have ever felt in my entire life.

(to be continued)

The moments that mark your life ( Part 2 )

It was about 2:00 in the afternoon, so I knew it wouldn’t be long until my kids got out of school. I was so frightened and didn’t know what to do.  I needed to confirm where my husband was, so I stopped to use a pay phone.  I called the Rockwall County Jail and asked if a Warner Washington was being held.  They said, “Yes” and started listing off the charges. The list was long and manufacturing meth was one of the charges. I knew what I had been told was true. Unnerved, I hung up the phone and returned to my car. Driving around aimlessly, I decided to go to Rockwall and pick up my kids from school.  My thoughts were, “I wasn’t at the house so how could I be charged?” Driving into the city limits and, toward the school, was terrifying but I continued on my way. As I approached the intersection where 205 and Ridge Road/740 split, I pulled into the parking lot of the 7-Eleven and parked. There was a battle raging within me: I needed to get rid of the drugs I had, but the addict within me was stronger than anything else (the mother, wife, teacher…) and was in complete control.  I couldn’t …no, wouldn’t - throw the drugs away. But I didn’t want them on me when I went to pick up the kids.  I hid them in the phone booth outside the 7-Eleven, planning to retrieve them later. I pulled away and started for the school, but I was scared…terrified, that I was at any minute about to be arrested.  I did what any good drug addict would do:  I decided to go back and get my drugs, do the drugs, and then I would decide what my step would be. (This is so hard to admit but I was more worried about my drugs than anything else. That is how strong and debilitating addiction can be.)  Driving back to 7-Eleven, I got my stuff and left Rockwall. I was running out of time. I knew my kids were going to be getting out of school, and there was going to be no one to get them. I drove up 66 and stopped at the Eckerd’s Drugstore on 66 and Rowlett Road to use the phone again. I knew CPS was investigating us because the kids had been interviewed at school. I had been in contact with CPS but didn’t keep my appointment, so I decided to call the investigator. When the investigator got on the phone, she informed me that CPS had already been to the school and my children were in their custody. When CPS stopped by our home earlier that day for a home visit, my husband was being arrested. My children were currently in the custody of Child Protective Services.  I was then informed that I needed to turn myself in because I, too, had a warrant for my arrest.  

Shaking uncontrollably and not knowing what to do, I put the phone back on the hook and left the store.  My kids were gone, my husband locked up, I had no money, and nowhere to go.  I got in my car, finished what drugs I had, and drove around trying to come up with a plan.

As time had passed and I spiraled into my drug addiction, all my friendships had changed. There was a group of girls (Peri, Leah, Melanie, Cheri ,….) that I had been close friends with since kindergarten. Over the years, we had always remained in touch.  But as my addiction worsened, I distanced myself from these girls because they weren’t living the life I was living.  My circle of so-called friends at the time were all drug addicts like myself. Friendships based on drugs do not run very deep. Don’t get me wrong, I am not judging anyone, we were just a group of lost people addicted to drugs. I don’t know any of their stories, but I am sure they are filled with pain and dysfunction, just like mine. Addiction is so very deceptive and cunning: I would do a mental checklist to see how I was doing compared to my new friends. I always came out on top: I had a job, I graduated from college as well as high school, I had a car, I had children, etc.

My thinking was so skewed; I had tricked myself into rationalizing my addiction. Remembering back, though, it makes sense. I was just that “off”.

I owned some land on old South Central Expressway that I inherited from my grandfather.  I rented it to someone who used it for an Auto Salvage Yard. I rented another building to a man who worked on cars. I needed money now, and rent wasn’t due until the first of May, but I thought I might be able to get it early.  I decided to make a call. Frank, who ran the auto salvage yard. He told me I could come out the next day and he would pay me. I heaved a sigh of relief at the thought of  getting early money. Now, all I needed to worry about was that night and where I was going to stay. I was in Rowlett so I decided to stop by Cheri’s house.  To be honest, I don’t know what I told her was going on with me, but I she allowed me to stayed and make a few phone calls. I then went to Melanie’s house, but she was not home, so I just started driving again. I ended up driving around all night long. I have never been homeless, but the feeling  I had that night was horrible. I wondered if this feeling was what the homeless felt constantly.  There was nowhere to go  and the only family member left at the time was my dad.  I was too scared to call him, so I just wandered aimlessly, driven by fear and feeling so hopelessly alone in the world.  (This is another lie I deal, especially since the death of my Dad. I believe that I am alone in this world.)  Very early on Friday morning, I stopped by Melanie’s house again, and she was a life saver. I wasn’t honest with her about what was going on, because I was a drug addict, and drug addicts lie,  I was honest about needing help and a place to stay. She gave me some money, and I got a motel room, finally laying down to rest. I was emotionally, mentally, and physically spent. There was nothing left.

There are moments that mark your life ( Part 1 )

There are moments that mark your life, moments when you realize nothing will ever be the same, Time is divided into two parts: “before this moment and after this moment.”

- author unknown

I am not sure where I saw this written but it resonated with in my heart. I have had many of these moments in my life: the deaths of my brother, mother, sister, and father are most prevalent. What happened April 19, 2001, was a transcending moment. A moment that would alter my life forever.

I was still teaching a Life Skills Class at Lakeview Centennial High School in Garland. I got up (although to be honest I don’t think I had gone to sleep because of the drugs rushing through my system and mind) and got ready to leave for work. Earlier in the week, I had learned that Child Protective Services had talked to all three of my children at school. They were scared, but I was terrified. I had called CPS the day of the visit and had planned on going to their office to speak to them, but even the best laid plans tend to go by the wayside when you are doing drugs. I never made it. As I looked in the mirror as I was walking out the front door, I didn’t even recognize the girl looking back at me. I was so very tired and beyond worn out. Being a drug addict is exhausting. It’s an endless cycle that never stops. You’re never satisfied. You think, “Okay, if I can just get some more drugs, then I will be okay.” When you do get your drugs, however, you are suddenly worried about running out and worried about where you will get more. It was never-ending and grueling on my mind, body, and soul. As I walked out the door and got in my car, I sighed heavily and drove to school. Little did I know, as I drove away that day looking at my home in the rear view mirror, I would never return to my home again. I would never, ever set foot inside of it again.

Meth is a horrible, horrible drug. It makes you distracted. You start things you never finish. You focus on something so insignificant for hours and never get anything accomplished. (I completely disassembled a computer because I couldn’t log on to the Internet, I beat up the transmission of a perfectly good car,, and the vacuum cleaner was always a target of my inappropriate focus). So that morning, as usual, I drove to school in a rush. It was a Thursday, and on Thursdays we took our students out to eat at different restaurants. In our Life Skills class, we spent a lot of time on basic living skills: eating out, shopping at the grocery store, counting money, and going to work. The students had various jobs within the community to teach employment skills. Thursdays were a favorite for everyone. That particular Thursday we went to Spring Creek BBQ off of 190 and 78 for lunch. (The significance of eating there this day and my later getting a job at Dickey’s BBQ right up the road would be meaningful to me. I would come full circle then, and to be honest, I have come full circle so often I feel as if I am running around in circles most the time.)

After arriving at school, we began our day and started prepared for our field trip . Field Trips were a lot of fun, but also a lot of work. Many of the students were in wheelchairs and a few wore diapers, so we had to make sure everyone was changed and ready to go. There were also students with specific medical needs to be addressed before we left. Finally, with everyone ready and excited, we loaded the bus and were on our way. We went to the grocery store first to buy a few items, then we were off to the restaurant. After eating, we loaded back into the bus and returned to the school. As we pulled into the parking lot, I noticed my car was still there, which surprised me because my husband was supposed to come get it. We were down to the one car that my father had given us. (Our other car had been totaled and we had let our insurance lapse.)  As I walked into my classroom, I decided to call my husband to see why he had not come to get the car (. We were also down to one phone so I called our prepaid cell phone praying we still had minutes on it. ) The phone rang a few times and then a man whose voice I didn’t recognize answered. I asked for Warner and he said Warner wasn’t available.

“Who is this?” I asked.  It was the Rockwall County Sheriff’s department and he informed me that my husband and two other people had been arrested for manufacturing Meth at my home. They wanted to talk to me. I didn’t know what to do, so I just hung up the phone. Looking around and feeling panicked, I knew I needed to get out of that school. I needed to figure out what was going on. I needed to leave that school because I was scared they were on their way to arrest me. I had drugs in my car and they need to disappear.

My assistant walked into the room, and I hurriedly told her that I had an emergency and must to leave. As I walked out of my classroom and said goodbye to my students, I had no idea I would never see any of them again. As was the case with my home,  I never stepped back inside that school again. Or any school for that matter. That was my very last day as a teacher.

I hurried to the parking lot to get in my car. Meth tends to make people very paranoid. As I was walking, I looked around skittishly, panicked there were policemen watching and waiting to arrest me. I got into my car and drove away. At this point I really wasn’t sure what was going on. All I knew is that I had talked to someone who said he was with the Rockwall Sheriff’s Department. My husband did not come get the car. He did not have our phone. I was terrified.

To be continued.....................................