Part One – Draft One
In December of 2012, I relapsed on oxycontin after two years of sobriety. One bad choice and I threw it all away. My husband who supported me through those two years became immensely disappointed when he found the straw and crushed up pill residue in the cigarette cellophane in my dresser drawer while putting laundry away. He came downstairs and approached me while I was in the kitchen cooking dinner, I could see the anger in his eyes before he got any words out. “Honey, what’s wrong? I asked him, and instantly my stomach knotted up, feeling sick with apprehension, I knew I was fucked and had a good idea why.
He opens his right hand and shows me the straw and the cellophane I crushed my pills up in and says, “what the hell is this–I don’t have to ask that now, do I? How–I mean HOW COULD YOU DO THIS??? John was boiling with anger. He would never get violent and he rarely ever got pissed off about anything. John was laid back, and lived a straight edge life-style.
My eyes overflowed with tears streaming down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry…I-I don’t know, I just wasn’t thinking.” I started bawling and from that point forward I thought John was done with me. “I’m so sorry, John, I just—”
“YOU JUST WHAT, HOLLY? There was a brief moment of silence. John was angry, but I could see the disappointment in his anger. He finally calmed down somewhat and said “you worked hard for two years to better yourself and I tried to stand beside you every step of the way…here, if you want to fuck up your life, go for it, but I’m not going to stand around and watch you kill yourself any longer than I already have.” He grabbed my wrist and putt the parafenilia into my hand then closing it. “Do what you’re gonna do, Holl, I can’t stop you” and turned around and walk away.
I sat down on the kitchen floor with my back against the cupboard doors and cried until I couldn’t shed anymore tears, Jonn went back upstairs to get JJ up from his nap and got him dressed. I could hear them both coming back down the steps. I over heard JJ asking John where mommy was, John told him I was busy and we’re going for a ride. A few minutes later, I heard the door slam shut as they left. I was heartbroken, but it was over my own actions. As time went on, John wasn’t his old forgiving self. He became distant towards, seemingly disappointed, which he had a right to be and never had anything to say to me unless it was necessary. We continued to live in the same house to be parents to JJ, who was five at the time, but other than that, our house became a silent place. I tried to reach out and do everything possible to shape up and earn his forgiveness and it wasn’t enough. For the next few months. I became severely depressed and started using again. It didn’t matter anymore, because I had lost the love of my life. I was supposed to be a ‘stay at home’ mom at the time, but even that ceased after my father got involved. He would come to the house in the morning and take JJ to school when John was leaving for work, then pick him up and take him to his house until John returned home from work. At that point I was more that ready to throw in the towel and give up completely. I was sleeping a lot throughout the day to pass the time, I would purchase dope when it was available just to mask the pain I was feeling and that was the story of my life. This was one of the lowest points in my life, but only time and manipulation would make it worse than it already was.
Then out of nowhere I get a phone call out of the clear blue sky from Rick, a guy I met six years prior at an outpatient treatment center in Erie, Pennsylvania. At the time, John and I lived in a small town called Linesville, about two hours north of Pittsburgh. That was when my addiction emerged and I checked myself into an outpatient methadone maintenance program. Erie was the closest facility, about a 30 minute drive from where I lived and I went there times a week for my therapy sessions and medication. Rich was a guy I met in the program, we initially met when he asked if I could give him a ride home one day, because he somehow ended up stranded at the facility with no ride. I never thought anything about it and considered it a good deed so I say yes, I can do that. This was in 2007, he was 35 years old with a heroin addiction, He was married with two young children and his ex-wife threw him out and filed a PFA on him for stalking and harassment. Little did I know at the time. All I knew was he stayed with his father, had some ‘poor me’ issues going on and had a way of making others feel sorry for him. While I was driving him home, he asked to borrow my phone to call his father and let him know he would be arriving shortly. The real reason he used my phone was to call his house and obtain my number off the caller ID. I was a married woman with a toddler and I was trying to get my life back together. I made that crystal clear, however, it didn’t stop him from calling me to say hello and striving to be my friend. I felt violated at first, but I just tried to be nice. For a while I thought, maybe he’s just lonely and needs someone to talk to and build him up. I always had more male friends most of my life anyway, so it wasn’t that serious. Out of respect, I didn’t say much to John about it, not that John had anything to worry about, but I wasn’t trying to provoke him neither. Rich began to develop feelings for me and when I told him that those feelings were not mutual he got a little aggressive, so I backed off completely. Eventually, I stopped going to that treatment center, because John had a job transfer for bigger and better opportunities, so we ended up moving to Pittsburgh, and it worked out well, because my parents lived there. Once we packed up and moved, I was relieved that I would no longer have to worry about this wacko bothering me again. I was 100% wrong! Rich continued to go to great lengths to find me. I had a brand new phone number in a whole different area code, but my parents however, had a landline phone and the number wasn’t unlisted. After a year or so, he somehow contacted my parent’s and told them he was some credit union calling about an urgent matter and needed to speak to me asap Boom! That was it and that’s all it took! He would call and want to chat on a regular basis. He didn’t get pushy like he did in person, but he just wouldn’t give up. After a while, John found out about the goof, but he didn’t really get upset. Even though I was in recovering and relapsing in between, we had a healthy marriage, our sexual relationship was through the roof and nothing could ever come in between that. But, that was in 2008. Our marriage didn’t start to decline until that last relapse and things just did a downward spiral from there on. I became vulnerable and felt empty inside, and desperate for any communication from anyone. The timing was just right for Rich contact me and take my vulnerability to his fullest advantage. He was older, a con artist and a brainwasher. Oh, and a wife poacher, too! I was in for a rude awakening! TO BE CONTINUED. STAY TUNED!
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