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The Officer's Sympathy. Part Three.

As I backed out, I did not get very far and was immediately stopped. I was freaking out on the inside but from all the medications was pretty calm with the officer. I grabbed my license and vehicle registration. The officer asked me where I was going and if I had anything to drink or was under the influence. I replied, "no." Praying in my head he did not search my vehicle. In the kid's diaper bag, which was my "purse" too; I had vodka, and about seven strong white pain pills thrown in the side of the bag alongside my own anxiety prescription for clonazepam. A recipe for disaster. The officer asks me to step outside the vehicle to do a field sobriety test. I told him a strong "no" when he asked me to blow into a breathalyzer. My heart hurt for my babies who were sitting in the car scared and confused. They did not know what was going on. The officer asked if I could call someone to come pick up the kids. I immediately called my neighbor Charlene who we called Mimi. She was my angel many times during such a horrific time in my life. Charlene is one of the special people on earth that saw me for who I was not my addiction during those times. She knew I loved my babies, and I was a good mom. She also knew I had struggled a lot in my marriage and drinking too much. She loved me through it. She arrived and took the kids back to her house and called Eric. I was handcuffed after the kids left then unhandcuffed once I sat in the officer's car. I cried and gave a sad story how I had left my husband and was on some new antidepressant that was making me "loopy." The officer was very nice. I am sure I was really annoying, but I had only had a seatbelt ticket at this point in my life. I had a clean record. Almost perfect. I was honestly being truthful with him without sharing the number of substances I had ingested. That was not any of his business, right? He then drove me to the jail where we literally walked in and walked out. He said, "I am going to take you to the hospital for an exam." I was clueless and wondered why but it was not jail so I was okay. I begged him to take me home. We arrived at a hospital. We waited for a few minutes as I asked some random stranger for a cigarette. The officer laughed and shook his head. "You can't do that Jillian." My name is Hope. I go by Hope. My middle name. It was not long- I then sat in a chair where a doctor asked me if I wanted to kill myself or harm anyone else. "What, no. I never said that. This is ridiculous. I want to go home." I was sobering up thinking about my next relief. After, the doctor released me, and we walked back to the car. As we sat, I begged again for him to please take me home! We then literally rode around talking about life. It was the strangest thing ever. He was waiting on a phone call back from his supervisor to give the okay to drop me off at the house. What felt like eternity of driving, he started to turn into my neighborhood. I was so happy and grateful for this officer. In reality, I do not know if he did me a favor that day because it prolonged my addiction without going to jail. But I am forever grateful for his kindness and God's grace that day. He wrote me a ticket for DUI as I thanked him. I walked in the house and Eric's jaw dropped. "I thought you were in jail. What the hell happened Hope? You are out of control. I have already called all our parents. You need help." Of course you did, Eric. Because you do not do anything wrong. Where are my babies? I walked into the bedroom and held them with tears rolling down my face. Then, I searched for the diaper bag. Thinking, I hope they did not find my pills. I need them. Eric only found the vodka. I swallowed a couple of pills.

Eric, "Hope. How did you get home?"

Me- The officer. He dropped me off.

"How does that even happen? "

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