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wilsonhope2

Johns Creek. Part One.

Updated: Mar 2, 2023

I was back on the road with my babies on my mind. Eric had let me speak to the kids while I was in West Virginia-but there was no conversation between the two of us. On my way back to Atlanta I spoke to Todd (the sober living owner), he confirmed I had a bed. I would be living in one of the new apartments in Johns Creek, Georgia with my good friend at the time Elana. Elana and I met months earlier in the same sober living. Elana and I were kindred spirits. She was tall, red-headed, beautiful woman in her late forties. She had no children with a doctorate in music. Elana was caring, and we enjoyed the same activities. We could talk for hours about holistic health and healing. We loved nature, reading, taking care of our bodies and finding our guidance through practiced mindfulness and meditation. We were both very empathic and sensitive to other spirits or "energy" around us. She reminded me of a "good witch." Looking back now, she was very wise in knowledge but lacked wisdom in following God. Well, the God I serve. To each there own. During this time in my life, I was very open to spirituality, tarot cards, psychics. I was searching for anything to fill a void in my heart. I wanted something-anything to give me answers and direction for my life.


I drove back to Atlanta and made it safely to the house to get the rest of my belongings. I walked in with a look of Suprise on Eric's face. I had tried calling him earlier, but he did not answer.


Eric: What are you doing here? The kids are not here, and you cannot come back here to stay.


Me: I know they are not here Eric. I have to get the rest of my stuff. Do not worry. I do not want to be with you. You make me sick. I am going back to sober living.


There was not much conversation between the two of us. I gathered my things and left.


Johns Creek is a very nice area. The monthly rent increased to fourteen hundred dollars. The rent included: electric, water, waste, drug tests, accountability, and the weekly meetings. My dad was not happy. he told me, "Jill, I will pay one month. That is, it. I already did this before, and this is the last time! You better not go back to Eric. You will have to get a real job. I am not keeping you up for you to lollygag your ass around. With your education, hell, you can find one in two-weeks. I did not pay for your degree for you not to use it! I give you a month, max. Then you are paying your own bills. Sweetheart, Daddy is done. You have to get back on your own feet. I love you. Call me if you need me." I hated asking my dad for financial help. Even through gritted teeth and curse words, he always provided. He knew Eric would not. He strongly disliked Eric for how he mis-handled me the past few years, and my current situation. Eric was never sensitive to my needs. He always left it up to my mama and daddy to pick up the pieces when things were bad. And when things were good, and I became "better" he was there. I have to say, I was mentally wrecked by all the mind games. The abandonment, and use of alcohol with me then "throwing me away" and using the kids against me brought major damage and trauma. I did not think I would ever be able to forgive him.


I met Elana at the apartment. She now assisted with room checks, drug tests, and in-take for new girls. I was happy to see her. We sat at the kitchen table talking about everything. My mind was still very scattered from the methamphetamine. I told Todd earlier that I was not clean and would not pass a drug screen. I did not have any more methamphetamine to ingest and wanted sobriety. He knew I was willing, and previously I had not surrendered fully to the process.


{Todd was a nice-looking middle-aged man with great charisma and was successful in the recovery world. I admired his hard-work and dedication to helping others. He had years of experience and sobriety "under his belt." He spoke with wisdom and was very straightforward. We called each other "Cuz" because we shared the same last name.}


Before laying down for bed, Elana administered a drug test for my intake file. I tested positive for the following: Amphetamine, cocaine, ecstasy, methamphetamine, buprenorphine, barbiturates, and benzodiazepines. No wonder I felt completely disconnected to the world around me. I took a handful of sleep aid pills. I laid there with my mind racing. On all the things I had to do while feeling like I had no control over my life, especially my children. That was my biggest hurt. Words cannot describe the agony in my soul and the emptiness in my spirit. My next hurtles were finding a job, Bentley's birthday party, passing my monthly probation drug screen, and orchestrating with Eric to have the kids stay with me every weekend. My mental health was deteriorating; and I knew once the drugs were completely out of my body, depression and anxiety would be at an all-time high.


I felt like a failure. At thirty years old, I felt incompetent. It was like I had been living in my own stay-at-home bubble for years taking care of my kids, changing diapers, cleaning up mess after mess, walking around in a haze. The work force world terrified me. Then, I felt I lacked in my computer skills but majored in patience and caring for children. I was beat down mentally, emotionally and physically. My marriage was over. It was time for me to step-it up. Even if I had to fake it to make it. I always loved a challenge. This comeback was personal. It was a huge "fuck you" to Eric and to anyone else that did not believe in me.


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