Heroin makes you numb. Body and mind.......and soul. At this point it is getting difficult to paint a detailed picture of my life. I dont remember details....hours....days......or even weeks of my life. I am working as a medical assistant at the Dr. Office. Ger is collecting unemployment. The girls are going to school. Ger and I are living souly for the purpose of finding heroin or pills. There was no daily routine.....no family normalities. Half or more of the time the girls werent home with us....or they were and I dont remember. I am sick. My income isnt enough. Gers unemploymemt isnt enough. Our car is a piece of shit and barely runs. We never had gas in it. Ger stole gas cans from garages and back porches throughout our town. The shed in our side yard was where we discarded the empty gas cans. Ger would drive me to work to use the car to find drugs and bring them to me at lunch. I shot up in the car in the parking lot with him to get well and then in the office bathroom throughout the day. I never came right home after work. We always had to go find more. I loved my job but I was starting to slip. Though none of my co-workers had ever expressed concern at this point, I felt scattered and I never felt worthy. I was continually asking for draws on my paycheck. So I never got a full paycheck on pay day. I was always behind. I couldnt catch up or keep up because my tolerance got higher and higher as I continued to use.
Our criminal behavior was out of control. Unfortunately it turned me on just as much as Ger sticking a needle in my arm did. Any distraction........any high risk behavior kept my mind free of grief. We would find an opportunity in every situation we came across. Our minds automatically went to "How can we get something out of this?" "Is this person worth while....what do they have that we want and are they easily manipulated? " We would get high and fantasize about horrific ideas. Some we played put, others we didnt.......not for lack of wanting too, but never the right timing or situation.
Gers unemployment was a good amount, but it started bothering me that I was working every day.....sick or not....and he was just at home. It caused alot of fights. Me being just as god awful sick as him but still having to be responsible. I would pressure him to go do something. Well, one day he did. I was at work and was called to the front office for a phone call. It was Ger. He was frantic. "If the cops question you, you know nothing, and I was with you on your lunch break!" he says. I look around nervously at my co-workers. Could they hear him? I turn my head down and try to cup the phone with my hand and asked him, "What did you do?" He tells me, "You will find out soon enough......can you take lunch now? Ill come pick you up and we can go to the block". Sure, okay.....sounds like I get an intravenous lunch!
He came and picked me up and we headed for the block. He had $70. $70?!?!?!?! That wasnt shit!!! Oh......but wait.....there was more. He told me what he had done that morning while I sat there with my jaw on the ground. He had gone up to a friends house (A family friend......not a junkie friend......my family) to steal some pills. He couldnt get in. The house was locked up......(they knew about our bullshit) So he decided to kick the door in. He couldnt find the pills so he took money and stole a rare coin collection.....among other things. A friend on the block was holding on to the stash until things cooled down with the cops. Then Ger would try to sell them out of town. For a moment I was confused. Like I didnt know what to think. So.... I didnt. I just asked him if he had set up a deal for the $70 so I could do a load before i had to go back to work. I mean......what was I gonna do? Turn him in?? No. I loved him. I didnt care where the money came from......as long as it helped keep me from feeling pill sick. My conscious was long gone.....or burried deep somewhere. I wasnt capable of thinking that my family could be hurt by this. I mean I knew they would be pissed but it didnt go deeper than that for me. I could not be sick. It feels like death and its scary as fuck. I avoided sickness/withdraw like the plague. To have my body go through excruciating pain.....and uncontrollable sickness was my greatest fear. It is so painful.....the physical pain tricks your mind into literally thinking you are going to die. Not to mention what happens to your brain, your thoughts, when heroin starts leaving your system.
We found some heroin and I went back to work. The police had called and left a message. Yes, Ger was with me on my lunch.....no, he couldnt have done that. My parents called and told me that their friends house had been broken into. Same spiel. I was at work at the time. Somewhere, something inside of me felt terrible. But something inside me had felt terrible for years.....and I knew how to handle those uncomfortable feelings. I had been self medicating in one way or another nearly my whole life. Heroin allowed me to perfect my game. It was a survival skill. If I allowed myself to feel guilt, shame, or sorrow of any kind I knew I would completely unravel. So I built this persona......this person who didnt give a fuck.....who had no morals or values.....and I allowed her to think of only one thing. How to stay that person. It was around this time that I changed my name. Ger started calling me Miss when we started hanging out, and Missy soon became my name to everyone. Missy was a bad ass. Missy was a heroin addict who would stop at nothing to get what she wants. I became Missy.
After a couple of days things cooled down a little with the police and the robbery. My dad had told both Ger and I multiple times that if he were to find out this was us or that we knew about it, we wouldnt like the outcome. I told him over and over that I knew nothing about it. Ger had all this stuff worth money and yet we were still broke because it was too soon for him to try to sell at a pawn shop. So we continued doing other "jobs" to try to get a more instant gratification type of outcome.
It was very hard for me to pay our rent because of obvious reasons. But I didnt want to lose another house for the girls. Rent was a few days over due and it was my payday from the Dr. Office. I cashed my check and put $750 cash under the mattress in our bedroom to pay rent with the next day. I was going to be strong no matter what. Ger and I werent getting along......it seemed like we were never happy at this time in our lives. I dont remember what the issue was but it was guaranteed either about drugs or sex. We had a yelling match and then he took off. I ran to check under the mattress and my money was still there!! Wait........omfg......SOME of my money was still there. FUCK He had taken $400.......there was only $350 there.......FUCK MY LIFE! I was fuming!!! He had no cell phone because......well our money didnt get used for things like that. So I sat at home.....for hours.....and waited for him to get back. I knew he obviously went to get H and that was pissing me off more than anything. Like, mother fucker, if we are going to get evicted, at least let me get high with my rent money too! Fuck it.....I have $350 and I cant pay rent so ill use THAT to get myself high. I sure showed him. We got an eviction notice a couple days later. We were fucked. We had no where to go.
We started packing our house up with no plan. No where to go. Ger and I were talking about hotels and how much they cost to move into on a monthly basis and there was a knock on our door. Boxes were everywhere. I went through the mess to open the front door. It was my families friend, Jason........the one Ger robbed...... I started saying "Hey! wh..........." when he pushes past me and starts yelling at Ger. "You swore you didnt steal from me!!!" I close the front door and turn around to see Ger on his knees and Jason standing above him with a pistol to his forehead. I started screaming ..."Please STOP!!" I can see that he has no intentions of doing anything but blasting Gers brains all over my livingroom. Hes had it with our bullshit. We had been stealing from my parents and Jason and the rest of our family knew about it all. From dads pill bottles to his retirement......now this. This went from Missys crazy boyfriend son of a bitch junkie to.....Now it is fucking personal. I didnt know what to do. I was crying and screaming. I thought I was going to witness the murder of my boyfriend in my own livingroom that night. Ger is yelling at me to call the cops and asking Jason not to kill him. Call the fucking cops? Wait.......on who? Who am I turning in? Robbery? Attempted murder? ........Murder? ?? Drugs? Jesus.....what the fuck is happening? I jump in between Ger and Jason and push Jasons arm away. He brings it back and points the gun in my direction. "MOVE!" I wasnt going to argue. Probably the most important time in my life to do what I was told. Gun back on Ger. They are yelling back and forth.....okay...Im realizing how real this is. Time to call the police. I dialed 911 only to find out this had allready been called in twice.....police were on their way. The neighbors were all outside hearing everything being said (screamed....yelled...) I can only imagine what it sounded like. Fuck. Seven police come to a screeching hault.....one after the other around my house...lights flashing, sirens blaring.....door busted down. Jason is tackled....Ger is tackled. Im thinking....*Didnt I just do a load? Is my rig laying around in plain sight of the cops?* Ger is yelling that Jason had tried to kill him...Jason is yelling that Ger robbed him....they both get cuffed and hauled off to jail. I just kind of stood there. After a couple of stunned minutes I started looking around for my rig. There had to be at least a wash left. No. There wasnt. But hey......Jasons truck was here. I got in and his keys were in the console. I drove to the block.
I found out later that Gers buddy who was holding the stash of stolen goods was sick that morning. He had no money and needed some H so he decided to take a couple pieces of the gold to a pawn shop and get his fix. Well, the pawn shop he went to happened to be owned by my dads friend.....who had sold Jason those pieces of gold originally. So, of course, he recognized them and had been told about the robbery and to watch for any of them coming through. Yep. He called the police and they came and cuffed Gers friend. They told him that they knew who did the robbery, and if he gave up the name, they would let him go. Without hesitation whatsoever, he told them that he got the gold from Ger. So, they had been looking for Ger since that happened. And....when my Jason lost his shit ...... Well, they found him.
I got what I needed and drove Jasons truck back to my parents house. My sister was there and my mom. They were quiet. They were angry. It was awkward so I broke the silence by saying "I didnt know he did it, you guys." My lame statement wasnt met with forgiveness and understanding. It was a terrible night. I dont remember the rest. I know that Jason was bailed out that night and never charged with anything. Ger, on the other hand, was gone....for a long time, and charged with all sorts of felonies.
Here I was....homeless, my ole man hemmed up, losing track of my girls, and I made a decision. I was going to get my shit together. Was I going to stop using? Hell, no. But as I've said before, being a junkie alone is way more manageable than being a junkie in a relationship with another junkie. I still had my job and my parents were way more willing to help when Ger wasnt around. I dont remember what I did those first nights alone. I think I stayed in my house until I couldnt. Then I started looking for hotels to stay in. I remember having Collette with me.....with as much as we could fit in my barely running car and we drove.....looking for a hotel to sleep in. I had money, but not enough. So I stopped at bars along the way and gambled. Trying to win enough money for a place for us to sleep. And.....I did. We rented a room at a pretty awful hotel. It was a low point but I was trying to be positive and have fun with Collette. She tried too.....but I knew she was insecure and worried about what our future held.
I used my next paycheck to pay for a month stay in the hotel. (Also my dad helped me with what I didnt have.)The girls hated it and prefered not to stay with me. I would beg them once in a while and they would stay .....out of guilt. Holly especially hated it. She was angry. She wanted a normal life so badly and I was letting her down.....majorly. My poor sweet little Holly. Collette still tried to take care of both of us. She always wanted to make sure I wasnt sad. They both distracted themselves with friends and lived with my mom. I was losing them. It felt like losing Poppy, only they were choosing to stay away. Ultimately because I was choosing to stay sick. I let it happen. And I continued on numbing myself from the never ending, growing stack of SHIT that I couldnt take responsibility for. All along believing I was the victim. The victim of abuse. The victim of a addiction. The victim of a dead child. The victim of pain and suffering.
Collette, Holly, and Poppy were the true victims.
I didnt know there was a different choice for me. I never had a moment of sound mind to even think about what could be if I were to stop. I didnt want to stop. I wanted to use Heroin. I wanted to stay medicated. I was grieving. I was devistaed and I was sad. And I was very angry. Heroin was my coping mechanism. Its very easy to blame myself for all of this. Most days I do blame myself. Other days I try to ease up on myself, but most days......no. I wish I had been strong enough to leave Damion. Then Poppy would still be alive. Then I wouldnt have gone on this path of self destruction. Then I wouldnt have hurt my girls. But I wasnt. And she isnt. And I did. So, the story continues on.
Ger and I talked on the phone as often as he was allowed. I visited him on visitor days and we wrote letters. I continued to work and I started using more. Not needing money for Gers habit made my use much more free. I missed him. But I also began resenting him. He wrote in letters that he was sober and wanted to stay sober when he got out. I did not want that. At all. He wrote to the girls apologizing for the life he had been a part of building. Holly missed him but collette wanted nothing to do with him.
My car gave out. So dad loaned me his truck off and on and I drove moms car until I was able to figure something out. My car was just parked at the hotel....dead. The hotel........it was known for people like me living in them....or frequenting them. It was gross. It was tiny. There were two double beds side by side....uncomfortable with sheets that were old and balled up, scratchy, and a thin comforter with exposed batting on the back that was neither warm, nor pleasant when it came in contact with your skin. Along the back wall was a double sink/countertop. There was so much grime built up in the cracks of the faucet handle and drain, it makes my skin crawl thinking about it. The bathroom was tiny....with a bathtub and a toilet. If the door was open you couldnt get out. It was not a convenient living space. There was a small microwave and a little table by the window. This was my home. It smelled bad.......and not from the cigarettes we smoked in there......from years of filth and then our lifestyle added to that.....ya.....it was gross. The back counter was my slam station. Rigs and spoons galore. Always stocked with cotton and lighters as well. (Cotton being present was a luxury) Quite often cigarette butts were used......even smoked ones.
I didnt hang with anyone. I mean, I saw people I was buying from....and I worked. I had a pretty good little routine going. Get up.....do a load......do the rinse....put on my scrubs and go to work. Do a load in the bathroom at lunch. Go to the block after work...get more...go home.....do a load......do another load.....nod out.....sleep......wake.....start over. I kept the hotel room clean....and I was managing. There was no drama, no arguing, no being sick. I was happily a robot. I kept myself fucked off enough at night alone to where I didnt slip into thoughts of Poppy....or the girls....I just stayed numb.
Ger called one evening and let me know that he was getting released on a certain date. He really wanted to get his life together......our lives. He had been in jail for a while....he got threw the horrific withdraw...and had been sober long enough to feel mentaly and physically healthy. He wanted to get a job, get married, get the girls and live a good clean sober life with me. I fantasized about it...I really did. But the reality was that I couldnt get clean and keep my job. (I thought at the time) I couldnt care for patients and be sick and withdrawing. No way in hell would I even be able to get up and go to work after 3 days in......even 2. He told me he would take care of me.....he met a guy in jail that has an rx to suboxone. Ugh.....I didnt fucking want suboxone! And guys, I know, suboxone is all the rage now and people use it to get high, so why wouldnt I take that option? Because when youre a ligit heroin junkie, it doesnt get you high. It keeps you from being sick. Period. I didnt want that......I needed the drugs......the numb. I told him I would try, but I knew we would both fail.
And fail, we did. Immidiately. I went to the jail the morning he was released. Oh my God! It had been months!!!! I saw him coming out and I fucking ran and jumped in his arms! My babe!!!! My GER!! He was soooo strong! Lifted me with one arm and held me tight. I melted. My fucken man. Wearing a wife beater and ripped jeans......straight outta jail with a cigarette behind his ear. Damn.....can we go fuck now....or....
He had to go check in with his Parole officer before we did anything else. I always loved going to the courthouse.....parole department with him. I felt like a gangsta babe. We would walk down the hall, his arm around me, walking with swag. He always knew all the guys waiting on the bench to check in with their P.O.'s. So as we walked by they would shout out to him and he would nod. "This your ole lady?" someone asked. "Ya, isnt she gorgeous? Im gonna take her home and fuck her like shes never been fucked before....been hemmed up for 6 months." Then he looked at me "Did you miss daddy?" I blushed and giggled and hid my face in his shoulder as he slapped my ass. ****** I have to say....this was my reality.......it was glamorous to me. As I reflect on the hot, steamy, sex/drug life I lived, I have to laugh a little......in comparison to my reality now? Lol.....I barely know this girl....this Missy anymore. *****Dude that asked about me makes some overly excited comment and then adds "Out the gate by 8, in the spoon by noon, ey Ger?" Ger says "Shut the fuck up" and he is called back to see his P.O. He asked his PO if I could come back with him because he didnt want me left out there with "those punks". So I go back and promise that we are good for each other and we are going to live the good life.....blah blah blah.
We didnt even make it back to the hotel before deciding to go to the block. The sex talk.....the excitement.....there just was no other way.......we never did anything half assed. All plans, hopes, and dreams of a sober life, out the window....forgotten. Bliss.
Ger was different. He was confident, cocky, and was back to taking charge. He was bound and determined to find work amd move us the fuck out of the hotel. He worked at it daily. He was using, but not as much as he used too....and he would even go without if it meant keeping me from getting sick. We seemed like functioning addicts for once. Jail had changed him. Christmas was coming.......amd everything was going to be allright.
Our criminal behavior was out of control. Unfortunately it turned me on just as much as Ger sticking a needle in my arm did. Any distraction........any high risk behavior kept my mind free of grief. We would find an opportunity in every situation we came across. Our minds automatically went to "How can we get something out of this?" "Is this person worth while....what do they have that we want and are they easily manipulated? " We would get high and fantasize about horrific ideas. Some we played put, others we didnt.......not for lack of wanting too, but never the right timing or situation.
Gers unemployment was a good amount, but it started bothering me that I was working every day.....sick or not....and he was just at home. It caused alot of fights. Me being just as god awful sick as him but still having to be responsible. I would pressure him to go do something. Well, one day he did. I was at work and was called to the front office for a phone call. It was Ger. He was frantic. "If the cops question you, you know nothing, and I was with you on your lunch break!" he says. I look around nervously at my co-workers. Could they hear him? I turn my head down and try to cup the phone with my hand and asked him, "What did you do?" He tells me, "You will find out soon enough......can you take lunch now? Ill come pick you up and we can go to the block". Sure, okay.....sounds like I get an intravenous lunch!
He came and picked me up and we headed for the block. He had $70. $70?!?!?!?! That wasnt shit!!! Oh......but wait.....there was more. He told me what he had done that morning while I sat there with my jaw on the ground. He had gone up to a friends house (A family friend......not a junkie friend......my family) to steal some pills. He couldnt get in. The house was locked up......(they knew about our bullshit) So he decided to kick the door in. He couldnt find the pills so he took money and stole a rare coin collection.....among other things. A friend on the block was holding on to the stash until things cooled down with the cops. Then Ger would try to sell them out of town. For a moment I was confused. Like I didnt know what to think. So.... I didnt. I just asked him if he had set up a deal for the $70 so I could do a load before i had to go back to work. I mean......what was I gonna do? Turn him in?? No. I loved him. I didnt care where the money came from......as long as it helped keep me from feeling pill sick. My conscious was long gone.....or burried deep somewhere. I wasnt capable of thinking that my family could be hurt by this. I mean I knew they would be pissed but it didnt go deeper than that for me. I could not be sick. It feels like death and its scary as fuck. I avoided sickness/withdraw like the plague. To have my body go through excruciating pain.....and uncontrollable sickness was my greatest fear. It is so painful.....the physical pain tricks your mind into literally thinking you are going to die. Not to mention what happens to your brain, your thoughts, when heroin starts leaving your system.
We found some heroin and I went back to work. The police had called and left a message. Yes, Ger was with me on my lunch.....no, he couldnt have done that. My parents called and told me that their friends house had been broken into. Same spiel. I was at work at the time. Somewhere, something inside of me felt terrible. But something inside me had felt terrible for years.....and I knew how to handle those uncomfortable feelings. I had been self medicating in one way or another nearly my whole life. Heroin allowed me to perfect my game. It was a survival skill. If I allowed myself to feel guilt, shame, or sorrow of any kind I knew I would completely unravel. So I built this persona......this person who didnt give a fuck.....who had no morals or values.....and I allowed her to think of only one thing. How to stay that person. It was around this time that I changed my name. Ger started calling me Miss when we started hanging out, and Missy soon became my name to everyone. Missy was a bad ass. Missy was a heroin addict who would stop at nothing to get what she wants. I became Missy.
After a couple of days things cooled down a little with the police and the robbery. My dad had told both Ger and I multiple times that if he were to find out this was us or that we knew about it, we wouldnt like the outcome. I told him over and over that I knew nothing about it. Ger had all this stuff worth money and yet we were still broke because it was too soon for him to try to sell at a pawn shop. So we continued doing other "jobs" to try to get a more instant gratification type of outcome.
It was very hard for me to pay our rent because of obvious reasons. But I didnt want to lose another house for the girls. Rent was a few days over due and it was my payday from the Dr. Office. I cashed my check and put $750 cash under the mattress in our bedroom to pay rent with the next day. I was going to be strong no matter what. Ger and I werent getting along......it seemed like we were never happy at this time in our lives. I dont remember what the issue was but it was guaranteed either about drugs or sex. We had a yelling match and then he took off. I ran to check under the mattress and my money was still there!! Wait........omfg......SOME of my money was still there. FUCK He had taken $400.......there was only $350 there.......FUCK MY LIFE! I was fuming!!! He had no cell phone because......well our money didnt get used for things like that. So I sat at home.....for hours.....and waited for him to get back. I knew he obviously went to get H and that was pissing me off more than anything. Like, mother fucker, if we are going to get evicted, at least let me get high with my rent money too! Fuck it.....I have $350 and I cant pay rent so ill use THAT to get myself high. I sure showed him. We got an eviction notice a couple days later. We were fucked. We had no where to go.
We started packing our house up with no plan. No where to go. Ger and I were talking about hotels and how much they cost to move into on a monthly basis and there was a knock on our door. Boxes were everywhere. I went through the mess to open the front door. It was my families friend, Jason........the one Ger robbed...... I started saying "Hey! wh..........." when he pushes past me and starts yelling at Ger. "You swore you didnt steal from me!!!" I close the front door and turn around to see Ger on his knees and Jason standing above him with a pistol to his forehead. I started screaming ..."Please STOP!!" I can see that he has no intentions of doing anything but blasting Gers brains all over my livingroom. Hes had it with our bullshit. We had been stealing from my parents and Jason and the rest of our family knew about it all. From dads pill bottles to his retirement......now this. This went from Missys crazy boyfriend son of a bitch junkie to.....Now it is fucking personal. I didnt know what to do. I was crying and screaming. I thought I was going to witness the murder of my boyfriend in my own livingroom that night. Ger is yelling at me to call the cops and asking Jason not to kill him. Call the fucking cops? Wait.......on who? Who am I turning in? Robbery? Attempted murder? ........Murder? ?? Drugs? Jesus.....what the fuck is happening? I jump in between Ger and Jason and push Jasons arm away. He brings it back and points the gun in my direction. "MOVE!" I wasnt going to argue. Probably the most important time in my life to do what I was told. Gun back on Ger. They are yelling back and forth.....okay...Im realizing how real this is. Time to call the police. I dialed 911 only to find out this had allready been called in twice.....police were on their way. The neighbors were all outside hearing everything being said (screamed....yelled...) I can only imagine what it sounded like. Fuck. Seven police come to a screeching hault.....one after the other around my house...lights flashing, sirens blaring.....door busted down. Jason is tackled....Ger is tackled. Im thinking....*Didnt I just do a load? Is my rig laying around in plain sight of the cops?* Ger is yelling that Jason had tried to kill him...Jason is yelling that Ger robbed him....they both get cuffed and hauled off to jail. I just kind of stood there. After a couple of stunned minutes I started looking around for my rig. There had to be at least a wash left. No. There wasnt. But hey......Jasons truck was here. I got in and his keys were in the console. I drove to the block.
I found out later that Gers buddy who was holding the stash of stolen goods was sick that morning. He had no money and needed some H so he decided to take a couple pieces of the gold to a pawn shop and get his fix. Well, the pawn shop he went to happened to be owned by my dads friend.....who had sold Jason those pieces of gold originally. So, of course, he recognized them and had been told about the robbery and to watch for any of them coming through. Yep. He called the police and they came and cuffed Gers friend. They told him that they knew who did the robbery, and if he gave up the name, they would let him go. Without hesitation whatsoever, he told them that he got the gold from Ger. So, they had been looking for Ger since that happened. And....when my Jason lost his shit ...... Well, they found him.
I got what I needed and drove Jasons truck back to my parents house. My sister was there and my mom. They were quiet. They were angry. It was awkward so I broke the silence by saying "I didnt know he did it, you guys." My lame statement wasnt met with forgiveness and understanding. It was a terrible night. I dont remember the rest. I know that Jason was bailed out that night and never charged with anything. Ger, on the other hand, was gone....for a long time, and charged with all sorts of felonies.
Here I was....homeless, my ole man hemmed up, losing track of my girls, and I made a decision. I was going to get my shit together. Was I going to stop using? Hell, no. But as I've said before, being a junkie alone is way more manageable than being a junkie in a relationship with another junkie. I still had my job and my parents were way more willing to help when Ger wasnt around. I dont remember what I did those first nights alone. I think I stayed in my house until I couldnt. Then I started looking for hotels to stay in. I remember having Collette with me.....with as much as we could fit in my barely running car and we drove.....looking for a hotel to sleep in. I had money, but not enough. So I stopped at bars along the way and gambled. Trying to win enough money for a place for us to sleep. And.....I did. We rented a room at a pretty awful hotel. It was a low point but I was trying to be positive and have fun with Collette. She tried too.....but I knew she was insecure and worried about what our future held.
I used my next paycheck to pay for a month stay in the hotel. (Also my dad helped me with what I didnt have.)The girls hated it and prefered not to stay with me. I would beg them once in a while and they would stay .....out of guilt. Holly especially hated it. She was angry. She wanted a normal life so badly and I was letting her down.....majorly. My poor sweet little Holly. Collette still tried to take care of both of us. She always wanted to make sure I wasnt sad. They both distracted themselves with friends and lived with my mom. I was losing them. It felt like losing Poppy, only they were choosing to stay away. Ultimately because I was choosing to stay sick. I let it happen. And I continued on numbing myself from the never ending, growing stack of SHIT that I couldnt take responsibility for. All along believing I was the victim. The victim of abuse. The victim of a addiction. The victim of a dead child. The victim of pain and suffering.
Collette, Holly, and Poppy were the true victims.
I didnt know there was a different choice for me. I never had a moment of sound mind to even think about what could be if I were to stop. I didnt want to stop. I wanted to use Heroin. I wanted to stay medicated. I was grieving. I was devistaed and I was sad. And I was very angry. Heroin was my coping mechanism. Its very easy to blame myself for all of this. Most days I do blame myself. Other days I try to ease up on myself, but most days......no. I wish I had been strong enough to leave Damion. Then Poppy would still be alive. Then I wouldnt have gone on this path of self destruction. Then I wouldnt have hurt my girls. But I wasnt. And she isnt. And I did. So, the story continues on.
Ger and I talked on the phone as often as he was allowed. I visited him on visitor days and we wrote letters. I continued to work and I started using more. Not needing money for Gers habit made my use much more free. I missed him. But I also began resenting him. He wrote in letters that he was sober and wanted to stay sober when he got out. I did not want that. At all. He wrote to the girls apologizing for the life he had been a part of building. Holly missed him but collette wanted nothing to do with him.
My car gave out. So dad loaned me his truck off and on and I drove moms car until I was able to figure something out. My car was just parked at the hotel....dead. The hotel........it was known for people like me living in them....or frequenting them. It was gross. It was tiny. There were two double beds side by side....uncomfortable with sheets that were old and balled up, scratchy, and a thin comforter with exposed batting on the back that was neither warm, nor pleasant when it came in contact with your skin. Along the back wall was a double sink/countertop. There was so much grime built up in the cracks of the faucet handle and drain, it makes my skin crawl thinking about it. The bathroom was tiny....with a bathtub and a toilet. If the door was open you couldnt get out. It was not a convenient living space. There was a small microwave and a little table by the window. This was my home. It smelled bad.......and not from the cigarettes we smoked in there......from years of filth and then our lifestyle added to that.....ya.....it was gross. The back counter was my slam station. Rigs and spoons galore. Always stocked with cotton and lighters as well. (Cotton being present was a luxury) Quite often cigarette butts were used......even smoked ones.
I didnt hang with anyone. I mean, I saw people I was buying from....and I worked. I had a pretty good little routine going. Get up.....do a load......do the rinse....put on my scrubs and go to work. Do a load in the bathroom at lunch. Go to the block after work...get more...go home.....do a load......do another load.....nod out.....sleep......wake.....start over. I kept the hotel room clean....and I was managing. There was no drama, no arguing, no being sick. I was happily a robot. I kept myself fucked off enough at night alone to where I didnt slip into thoughts of Poppy....or the girls....I just stayed numb.
Ger called one evening and let me know that he was getting released on a certain date. He really wanted to get his life together......our lives. He had been in jail for a while....he got threw the horrific withdraw...and had been sober long enough to feel mentaly and physically healthy. He wanted to get a job, get married, get the girls and live a good clean sober life with me. I fantasized about it...I really did. But the reality was that I couldnt get clean and keep my job. (I thought at the time) I couldnt care for patients and be sick and withdrawing. No way in hell would I even be able to get up and go to work after 3 days in......even 2. He told me he would take care of me.....he met a guy in jail that has an rx to suboxone. Ugh.....I didnt fucking want suboxone! And guys, I know, suboxone is all the rage now and people use it to get high, so why wouldnt I take that option? Because when youre a ligit heroin junkie, it doesnt get you high. It keeps you from being sick. Period. I didnt want that......I needed the drugs......the numb. I told him I would try, but I knew we would both fail.
And fail, we did. Immidiately. I went to the jail the morning he was released. Oh my God! It had been months!!!! I saw him coming out and I fucking ran and jumped in his arms! My babe!!!! My GER!! He was soooo strong! Lifted me with one arm and held me tight. I melted. My fucken man. Wearing a wife beater and ripped jeans......straight outta jail with a cigarette behind his ear. Damn.....can we go fuck now....or....
He had to go check in with his Parole officer before we did anything else. I always loved going to the courthouse.....parole department with him. I felt like a gangsta babe. We would walk down the hall, his arm around me, walking with swag. He always knew all the guys waiting on the bench to check in with their P.O.'s. So as we walked by they would shout out to him and he would nod. "This your ole lady?" someone asked. "Ya, isnt she gorgeous? Im gonna take her home and fuck her like shes never been fucked before....been hemmed up for 6 months." Then he looked at me "Did you miss daddy?" I blushed and giggled and hid my face in his shoulder as he slapped my ass. ****** I have to say....this was my reality.......it was glamorous to me. As I reflect on the hot, steamy, sex/drug life I lived, I have to laugh a little......in comparison to my reality now? Lol.....I barely know this girl....this Missy anymore. *****Dude that asked about me makes some overly excited comment and then adds "Out the gate by 8, in the spoon by noon, ey Ger?" Ger says "Shut the fuck up" and he is called back to see his P.O. He asked his PO if I could come back with him because he didnt want me left out there with "those punks". So I go back and promise that we are good for each other and we are going to live the good life.....blah blah blah.
We didnt even make it back to the hotel before deciding to go to the block. The sex talk.....the excitement.....there just was no other way.......we never did anything half assed. All plans, hopes, and dreams of a sober life, out the window....forgotten. Bliss.
Ger was different. He was confident, cocky, and was back to taking charge. He was bound and determined to find work amd move us the fuck out of the hotel. He worked at it daily. He was using, but not as much as he used too....and he would even go without if it meant keeping me from getting sick. We seemed like functioning addicts for once. Jail had changed him. Christmas was coming.......amd everything was going to be allright.
How did I not read this in January?! Xoxo
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