Life without Poppy

⚠⚠⚠⚠TRIGGER WARNING ⚠⚠⚠⚠
Graphic drug use.




Life without Poppy........it's impossible to describe this time in my life.  The feelings and emotions were way off of any measurable research chart. I was what I can only describe as a living dead girl.  I was there, I was going through motions, but I was no where near standing on the ground like everyone else. My heart was broken beyond any feeling I had ever known.  I was completely defeated. I couldn't even comprehend what all this meant.  None of it felt real, but it was all too real.  The pain that I knew Collette and Holly were feeling pushed me away from them instead of brought me closer. I had failed them completely and truly. I waited until a crisis happened to take them away from the abusive household.   The one little person that brought them joy and happiness....and hope was gone.  Because of me. They didn't get their happy ending.  They didn't get to watch their mother be strong and rescue them and their sister from violence and anger. They watched me lose.  I should have pulled them in closer than ever but instead I gave them freedom.   They never hated me or voiced disappointment. I was their mommy.  The dynamics changed to them worrying about my sadness.  Collette, especially started taking on the grown up roll.  She felt the need to mother Holly for me and also care for me.  Of course I did not recognize this at the time.  She had allready spent years trying to protect Holly from mine and Damions relationship, and in the last year had gotten used to taking poppy in her room shutting the door and playing with her when Damion and I would fight. Holly took on the roll of keeping everyone happy.  She tried to keep going forward without having a melt down.  She made us laugh and smile but inside I know she was terrified and lost.  I tried really hard to get her to talk....to cry.   I had barely any success.

The days before and after the funeral are still a complete blur to me. I remember bits and pieces. Everyone met out at Damions families house after we left the hospital.  Friends, family, lots of people coming and going. My mom was by my side the entire time.  My dad was on a hunting trip....all the way across the US.  He had to be called and told he would never see his grand daughter again and had to make the long drive back ....alone....with that on his heart.  My best friend, Elise, flew down to be with me and the girls. Not long after we all gathered Damion locked me in the bathroom and choke slammed me against the wall....with all of our family there.  They were yelling for him to unlock the door and he wouldn't.  This is seriously hours after my daughter had died.  Hours.  He had said something to me about using my daughter's death as an excuse to disrespect him or something.....I don't know.  Someone knocked the door in and I remember who ever it was, Damion knocked them down out in the hallway. It was time for this chapter in my life to be over.    There was no more hiding it.  Everyone had saw what he did to me.  My family my friends and I all left.   My mom and dad took me over to my house and we packed everything we could and took it and I never went back.  Over the next few days we prepared for the funeral.  Well, my family did....I didn't know what was even going on.  Elise took me to the funeral home where I saw my baby girl one last time.  She was laying in her tiny baby coffin.   She didn't look real.   She looked like a little lifeless doll.  She was gone.    I couldn't bear the pain.   I couldn't.
I picked out her dress and my sister and Collette went back there right before the funeral to put a little barette in her hair for me.  Holly had placed some toys in her coffin beside her.
I don't remember the actual funeral except for Damion going up front and singing part of a song and then walking away.  Pearl Jam. "Oh where oh where could my baby be.   The Lord took her away from me.  She's gone to heaven so I got to be good....so I can see my baby when I leave this world."
The next thing I remember was being out at the cemetary right before they were going to lower her in the ground.  I lunged forward to try to open the coffin.  I was stopped by someone grabbing me around the waist and pulling me back.  My mind was in a panic.  The realization that I would NEVER see her again overwhelmed me.  I needed to see my baby one last time. I wanted to hold her. My arms ached to hold her.  She was still nursing when she died and I screamed at everyone to let me please nurse her one more time.   I went crazy.  They wouldn't let me open the coffin.   I remember sobbing and sitting on the ground on my knees.  Then nothing.  My heart was just completely broken.  Beyond anything I can describe.
I saw my Dr (who had delivered Poppy).  I will never forget sitting in her office staring at the corner wall .....white....looking at all the imperfections...missing paint chips, scratches, while she hand expressed milk to help with the engorgement caused from being unable to breast feed.   It was one of the lowest points for me.   My body was producing milk for my beautiful baby girl who no longer needed it.  It was painful both physically and mentally.  I couldn't do it myself so my Dr took over for me.  She then bound my chest up tight to prevent me from continuing to over produce.   I had nothing to say.  I started trying to pretend that this wasn't happening.   The grief was so great that it was scaring me.  It felt so out of control.....like it could consume me and take my life.   I didn't know any other way to gain control of it other than to start pretending a different reality from what was real.  It wasn't even anything I could explain to  anyone.  It was sort of like "la la la....this isn't happening so I'm fine....I'm okay...I'm okay ... I'm okay".  Rock rock rock rock.....I'm okay I'm okay I'm okay. Somehow rocking back and forth distracted my brain.... so I found myself doing that more and more for comfort.  She prescribed me Xanax so that I could try to get some rest. It helped a little, but I had horrific night terrors that didn't go away. I still have them to this day.   I lost a ton of weight.....and for me that's not a good thing. The girls and my sister and I went to a shop and got ruby piercings. (Poppy's birthstone) I got a Poppy flower tattooed  on my chest. We redesigned my old bedroom.  I did a photo shoot with the girls for a memorial and to frame for our wall.  We took fake orange and red poppy flowers and arranged them differently in different pictures.  We painted the walls orange ....Orange like a poppy....Orange like the silk lining her casket. Because of the pure shock of the situation and the xanax those are basically the only real memories I have of the three or four months following Poppy's death.
Since the day we moved back in with my parents my dad's medication bottles had always been sitting on the counter.  I always saw them but never looked at what they were.... or cared.   Well, one day...I cared.   I went over to the counter and looked at all the labels.   Oxycodone.  Percocet.  Oxycotin.   I had taken Percocet before from having kidney stones and from having my girls.  I loved having a percocet prescription but it never occurred to me to try to get them.  Prescription drugs had never occurred to me, I mean.  I always bought meth or took speed pills that Damion used to give me that he stole from his friends.  But in that moment the memory of how the pain pills made me feel intrigued me.  I was so sad and so lost.   My dad was a chronic pain patient.  He had been for years...and rightly so.  He was a logger and had all sorts of medical issues.   So I took a handful of the percocets.   As much of a lie as this sounds I am telling, I didn't think I was stealing or doing anything wrong.  I didn't think he would miss them.  He had so many. At the time I didn't realize that a chronic pain patient had a routine with taking certain amounts at certain times every day.   I know......it's stupid.  I was very innocent to the pill game.  I didn't even know there was a pill game.  I felt better that day.  They worked with the Xanax as a little bit of a pick me up......maybe like a mood stabilizer.  I wasn't tweaking or energetic....my mind just felt better.  Cool.   My mind needed to feel better.   I didn't know what I was doing.  Ever.  I wandered around my parents house aimlessly.   I didn't shower daily or have a normal routine. My depression was real and I wanted to kill myself most days.  I thought about what that would mean.   Alot.   If I killed myself would I see Poppy somewhere? Would I be able to find her and tell her I loved her and how sorry I was?  Was she even somewhere?  Heaven?  If you commit suicide do you go to heaven?   I pondered that idea way too often.
Grabbing a couple percs every day became my routine.  The amount varied on how many were left in the bottle.   Once in a while I would take the oxys.   Days went by and weeks then months.    I had decided to see if I could register to go to our community college.   I knew I had to do something. I had to try to start living. I needed an income and the girls and I needed a home.  I applied for scholarships and financial aid and signed up for classes.. I wanted the girls to be proud of me.  I had been out from under Damions control for some time now and wanted to show them that I could be strong and do something good with my life for them.  I didn't have my own car as I had left it with Damion.  It was in both of our names and I wanted nothing from him.  I had been using my sisters boyfriends car that he loaned me. It was just time to try.   One morning I woke up and I didn't feel very well.  I layed low and wondered if I was coming down with the flu.  I was achy all over and sweating.   That afternoon I went and took one percocet.....the bottle was pretty low.   That helped a little.   The next day I felt worse.  This went on for a few days and it suddenly hit me.  I wasn't taking as many pills.  Could I be sick from this?  What the hell is going on? Everytime I took a pill the pain went away.  Hmmmm......weird.  I started taking the oxys because it took less of those to feel better.   My x girlfriend, Ashley, from when I was married to the girls dad, and I had been back in touch since Poppy had died.   She decided to come stay with me for a few days.   I had missed her and I was so greatful to see her.  We went out to a club one night and got wasted.   We danced and partied and had a great time.  Just like the old days.  When the night was over we went outside to call a cab.  I saw someone I hadn't seen in a while.  Ger!  (Pronounced Jare)  He was my neighbor at the townhouse where Poppy was born.   He and his wife were friends with Damion and I.  He had given Damion and I matching tattoos.  I was extremely drunk and ran up to him and hugged him and cried about Poppy to him.    He and is wife had split up a while back.   We talked and I asked him if he knew where to get any pills.   Yes!  Yes he did!  He happened to have a pocket full of greens.    (15 mg oxycodone)  We went to Ashley's car .....all 3 of us.  Ger and I railed some oxys. ( I had always just eaten them)  Ashley just smoked weed. I had always thought Ger was hot.  Bad boy...tattoos....logger guy.   So we got high and fucked....all 3 of us in the car in the parking lot. It was the first time I had been with a guy since Damion.  It was so freeing and hardcore and on the edge. This.  This right here was what I needed.   He was so bad but so good.   We partied until sun up.  Then  Ashley and I drove him home.  A place Ger called "The Block". A street where a group of houses were that all of his buddies lived in and sold and did pills and drugs.   I gave him some money and he got me some more pills and gave me his number.  And that was that.
I had no idea that this night was the beginning of me going down a path that would forever change my life.
I, of course, called him the next day. Ashley gave me a warning......she said "He's perfect.....you need this....please be careful though, you guys could be real bad for each other.  But for now have the fun you need."  I loved her and I hated to see her go back home.  I told the girls that I had ran into him.  They liked him when he was our neighbor so they were happy for me. I saw him often.  We did pills and had sex.  Even though we were doing pills he still felt safe to me. He was protective and he was proud of me.....two things Damion never was. He liked to show me off to his friends. He constantly told me how beautiful I was.  He had known Damion and what he was like so he said and did all the right things.  If he made a fast movement and I flinched he would hold me tight and tell me he would never hurt me.  He told his homies to be respectful of me.  He stood up for me.  But he was a bad boy.  So I fell in love quickly.  I still didn't realize I was doing anything wrong.   Some people drank.  Some people smoked.  Pills were my 'get down'.....  so what?  I could stop with just a little bit of body aches.   No big deal.  Until one day.   Ger told me he could only get morphine.   You can't snort morphine.  Well you can but you don't want too.   He confided in me that he used a syringe sometimes to get high.  I was on board.   I had no hesitation.  I wanted to do it.  He took me to a homies house that I hadn't yet been allowed in before.  His buddy, Jay.     I walked in behind Ger, holding his hand.  We walked through a kitchen.....filthy....and to a stairway going down.  He whispered to me, " It's okay....don't be scared.  I got you. "  I followed him down an unfinished wooden stair case onto a dirt floor.  A cellar.  We walked over things.....Ger kept telling me to stay close and watch my step.   We got to a bigger opening and there was a makeshift bedroom with a guy laying on a bed.  Ger introduces me..." this is my Ole lady".   (I'm his Ole lady!!!!!!! 💙💙💙)  Jay nods in my direction.   He didn't look well. I smile.   Ger gives him a morphine and has some for us. I watch.   He pulls out a spoon.   He crushes up the morphine on it.   Gets a syringe, (he calls it a rig) draws some water up and pushes the water back out on the crushed up pill in the spoon.  Then takes a lighter and lights it underneath the spoon. He then puts the end  of a q-tip  (a piece of cotton pulled from the q-tip) in the liquid.   Puts the tip of the needle in the cotton and pulls up all the liquid.  He then ties a belt around his arm and Ger takes the rig and helps him find a vein.  He finds one and hits it for him.   I watch him roll his head back and then he started talking.   He was happy.   Ger did the same thing and then it was my turn.   Ger turns to me....."Baby are you sure you want to do this?"  Fuck yes I'm sure!  He tells me I have to sit down......or it will take me down.  He tries to explain to me what I am going to feel.   Nothing ......and I mean nothing could have prepared me for what I felt.   I sit down and he ties the belt around my arm.  He finds a vein and gently sticks the needle in.   He draws back and blood seeps into the syringe.  He knows he hit it.  He tells me to brace myself and shoots the morphine into my veins.  I could feel it spreading through my blood stream.  My head fell back, my body slowly went cold along with a tingly/numbing sensation.   I got down on my knees and slumped over.  Ger rushes down to me and grabs my face. "Babe!  Look at me!" Baby!  I finally am able to move my neck and look up at him.   I smile.  Holy fuck........that was ....like the best orgasm in existence.  What the fuck was that?  Baby, that was the rush.