I clearly was not functioning from my own self as my body, mind, and spirit were consumed by cocaine and vodka. I was inhabited by a different spirit and energy as I walked up to another stranger to ask for a ride. The substances gave me a fake self-confidence and a more outgoing personality. I asked the construction worker if he could give me a ride. He said, "yes. I have to go back to work until 3:30 after I will come back to pick you up." Then I asked him to drop me off at Target and he could pick me back up there. I had three hours to spare. I wanted to walk around the Shoppes at Eastchase. He moved tools around for me to sit in the backseat. I was chatty Kathy as I opened another mini vodka bottle and took the shot. I offered him and his friend one. They accepted the vodka. My new stranger friend sipped the vodka shot. I said, "what are you doing? you have to shoot the vodka!" They both laughed. He dropped me off at Target and said he would be back. I waved and said, "thank you. see you soon." The entire situation was so absurd!
The Shoppes at Eastchase is like an outside mall area. I began walking and decided to get my nails done. I walked into this fancy nail salon. I asked for a pedicure and an acrylic full set. I picked out my colors. I decided on a vibrant red and gold glitter for my ring fingers. A young girl that did not speak English began to pamper me during my pedicure. I sat there and grabbed another mini-vodka bottle and tried to discretely shoot it. Keep in mind-I was carrying around a brown paper bag full of vodka. I looked like an idiot! I tried to relax. Next, she glued on my ghetto looking nail set. I decided on extra-long nails that are not functional! But hey-they were very bougie and pretty. It was nothing I would have chosen sober. I obviously did not have enough money for my manicure and pedicure. Once the nice little young- girl was done and walked me to sit in front of the nail dryer; I gave her a nice tip. Then, I walked out without paying for my service. It was awful. I was awful. I am not a thief, but when I was intoxicated and money was tight, I SUPRISED myself with my unruly behavior.
{As I am reflecting back, I am utterly shocked by the "girl" that I am writing about! How could this girl be me? It is like I am writing about a character in a book; except I have to acknowledge that the girl was a very broken, unhealed version of myself. If you truly know me, then you are very aware of the battle I was facing. I was not operating as myself. While intoxicated the devil had a foothold over me; I was oppressed by his dirty work. The lies, deception, and addiction were a dark hole growing inside of me. It was the enemy's mission to take me out. It was God's love that saved me.}
It was time for Jim to pick me up. Although, I did not recall his name at that time. I walked back to Target, stood outside smoking a cigarette as he drove up. I hopped right in the car with him. We talked as he expressed, he needed to go home to take a shower and he would take me the following morning. I thought, "great. I need drugs." I continued to drink my vodka. I was inebriated. I told him I needed some cocaine. He looked like he could get his hands on drugs. He drove us to his house. He lived in a trailer park that initially, no pun intended, I was weary of. Right before driving in the driveway, he told me he lived with his mother. He told me about his family-his mom was a schoolteacher and he had a younger brother. Honestly, I was not afraid. Something about his demeanor made me think of my older brother, Dex. Protective. I walked through the door, and I was astonished because it was a very clean well-kept home. About an hour later, his brother was home. He introduced me. I would have liked to have thought how awkward it must have been, but my intoxication made me unfazed by my surroundings. Next, we were off to meet his cousin for cocaine. It was dark out. As he pulled into the driveway of his cousin's house, he told me to remain in the car. Of course, I got out. I saw small children, so I went up to the kids and began to introduce myself and talk. He grabbed my hand and walked me back to the car where we left. He immediately got a key off of his key ring and handed it to me. I had the bag of cocaine in my hand as I took the key and scooped some out to snort in one nostril while closing the other. My drunkenness started to fade away. We arrived back at his house. Now, his mother was home as she stood in the kitchen, his brother sat on the couch, and "I" the high, strange- girl walked in wanting to make friends and know all about his family dynamic. He introduced me to his mom. I walked around admiring pictures and talking like I had known them my whole life. The cocaine made me chatty Katty. We walked back to his room listening to music as I talked his ears off, I am sure of. I smoked cigarettes, weed, and snorted a lot of cocaine while sporadically taking a sip of my pint of vodka. I told him all about my current troubles as he opened up about his past. He had served time in prison. At one point, he looked at me and all I saw was a demon. I was so shaken as I closed my eyes trying to see something else. I thought, my goodness, I have never been so high that I hallucinated. I opened my eyes and looked at him again seeing a demonic entity attached to him. He seemed like a nice guy. He did not take advantage of me. But there he was... appearing to me as a demon. When he looked like a demon his eyes were black and his spirit was dark. Morning came, and we did not sleep. I was wide awake when I heard his mother get up for work. I told him I was going to get a cup of coffee and talk to her. Why in the world would anyone think this was normal? He nonchalantly said, "okay."
I walked into the kitchen, made conversation with his mom. She made me a cup of coffee as I sat at the kitchen table and talked her ears off about who knows what. She left for work, and I walked back to his room telling him how nice his mom was. He was trying to go to sleep as laid on the bed tossing and turning. My mind would not shut-off. I asked him to get up so we could leave for Georgia. He wanted to sleep a couple of hours before driving. I was out of vodka. My nervous system was wigged out. There I laid high, drunk, no sleep, and helpless. I began crying. And once I started, I could not stop crying for a few minutes. I curled up and cried about my kids.
I was coming down from the high of cocaine. As I laid on this "demon's" bed...I wanted to die. My thoughts toward God were nothing but fury. I wanted God to take me out of this world and was angry because he had not; and he was allowing me to experience such suffering. I did not see a way out. All I saw was my own pain. I could not yet see the pain I had put my husband, children, and family through. All I felt was shame, guilt, and a strong cloud of demonic oppression. It is only By God's righteous hand that I broke through the chains that kept me locked up and buried in such evil, that I myself; was oblivious to.
He tried to console me, "It will be okay. I will make sure you get back to Atlanta." I asked for more cocaine and alcohol. He walked away and came back with a sixty-four-ounce beer. I sniffed the remaining cocaine and drank the beer. We got ready as he drove to McDonalds for a couple of cheeseburgers and a coke. I did not eat anything. Then, he said he was too high to make the drive that he would pay for my ticket to ride the bus. I immediately was like, "hell no." I am afraid to ride a public transit bus that far. (Crazy! Considering I was not afraid to hop in the car with a complete stranger! Made no logical sense whatsoever.) I told him I would call my friend Katelyn to come get me. (Katelyn- the girl I met at the nut house.) He drove us back to his house.
I got his phone and began making calls. I called my mama and daddy. I called them by star sixty-nine. My Daddy answered first.
"He asked what in the hell I was doing? Where was I at? I have everyone worried sick about me, and he was cursing about my stunt with the check and the fact that I had ran off and was on the streets. Have you lost your fucking mind Hope? I have done everything to help you and you are fucking your life up. No one but you. You will never see your children. Do you not want to be a mama, Jill? You sure as hell are not acting like it. Why in the hell won't you get help? I do not understand your fucked-up thinking. You are going to end-up dead or in jail just like your brother. It is sad to watch you piss away your life. This is the last thing I ever thought would come from you."
I lied. I told him I was back in Atlanta. He did not need to worry I was back in my meetings and going to get back on track.
After that, he dialed in on making good choices and small victories. "The simple things matter, Jill. Keeping your car clean and etc." (even though he had my vehicle and made it known I would not get it back from him.)
In my highly impaired mind, I got off the phone and my heart were broken. I wanted my daddy to console me and lift me up. I hardly ever received anything good, or encouraging come out of his mouth. It was always negative and criticism of all the things I should or could be doing differently. My thought process was, "I am barely hanging on to life and you are complaining about how dirty my car is." In his defense, he did not know. All he witnessed was my bizarre behavior and lack of self-control. He could only speak the things that worked for him to have a successful life; unaware of the knowledge that "his shoe" was not going to "fit" my foot. What worked for him, does not work for me. And that is more than okay. The moment you take control of your own feelings, emotions, and behavior and realize that you cannot function properly living out others' expectations and desires for your life-is the moment you set yourself free. If you spend your energy and time trying to please others and live the life your parents want you to live, your spouse wants you to live, or in any shape or form find yourself being untrue to you; it will sneak up on you. It will manifest itself through various ways and circumstances like depression, anxiety, addiction, burn-out, loneliness, unhealthy habits, unhealthy relationships and will leave you spiraling and spiritually bankrupt.
My next phone call was to my mama. I told her I was in Atlanta too. She informed me that she spoke to the "Katelyn girl" from the nut house and let her know she could go to jail by forging her name to a check. I tried to explain to my mama to leave that poor girl alone. She was nice. And she replied. "ya'll are both crazy. You are going to end up in jail or dead Hope. I am tired of dealing with this bullshit. You had my nerves all upset worrying about you. Grammie told me you stole his money. Why in the hell would you take from someone who loves you and was trying to help you. You do not make no sense. The best thing to happen to you if you will not go to treatment, is jail. At least I will know you are safe."
I hung up the phone. I called Katelyn. I had memorized her number. I asked her to come pick me up or meet me somewhere. She told me, "Your mom has been harassing me. She is crazy." I apologized for my mama and my actions. She told me that she probably could come later but would need to ask her mom to keep the baby. I felt better after speaking to her because I was ready to leave his house. I started to feel a darkness; like an entrapment feeling the longer I stayed. And where the trailer park was located was outside of Montgomery, so I did not know where I was at. The longer into the day as the alcohol was filtering out of my system, my body and mind went into fight or flight mode. I was overcome with fear of the unknown. I thought about running out of his house but scared because I was in the middle of nowhere at a trailer park. My hands were shaking with tremors as I asked him to buy me more vodka and take me back to one of my friend's houses. Katelyn did not answer when I called her. We left and it was now dusk. He did not seem to mind my psychotic behavior offering that I may stay with him again. I refused. He stopped by a liquor store and bought me a pint of vodka. He could not get to the car fastest enough. He handed me the vodka; I twisted the cap and chugged it straight. Momentarily, I had relief.
On the drive, which was about twenty-five minutes, I asked him a couple of questions. Are you wondering why I have been walking the streets when I do not have to? (I had spoken to my parents on speaker phone in front of him and basically told him my whole life story) And why I have chosen to randomly get in a car with strangers when my family live close by? He laughed and said, "yes, it has crossed my mind." We both laughed. I said, "I know you think I am crazy because I have sure acted like it!" He shook his head no and smiled.
He drove into my friend's neighborhood. I had him drop me off a couple houses before their home. I did not know this guy and at that point, I had no clue what he told me his name was. As we sat for a moment, I expressed my gratitude for allowing me to stay the night. He said, "wait, I will give you my number if you need anything. call me." He scrambled to find a piece of paper and pen. He handed me a small piece of paper that stated, "Jim" with his phone number. I promise you; I looked down at the piece of paper, smiled, and said, "Thank you, Jim. You will be a part of my book one day if I live to write it." I closed the door.
Kommentare