Perfect Summer

 So, finally, the van comes. We load my stuff and I'm driven to my new apartment, It was fully furnished and decent. We had rules we had to follow to keep our houses clean and even had to label our food because we weren't aloud to eat it past 3 days per the state regulations apparently. But you talk about a pain in the butt...THAT was a pain in the butt. But overall, it was ok. It was going to be my home for I didn't know how long at the time. Then my Dad pulled up with Hayden. I couldn't wait to see him, he looked so adorable in this little jump suite and he ran to me and gave me a big hug. It felt so good to have my son in my arms again, because there I know he's safe. Having to deal with knowing your child is with strangers is such a hard feeling to explain. You're on edge all the time wondering if he's ok. I was just glad to have him back with me. Then we unpacked my stuff and spent a little time with my Daddy (yes I still call my Daddy "Daddy". I have a tattoo of "Daddy's Girl" on the back of my neck if that tells you anything. Then the hard part came which was having to tell him good bye. And my Uncle Ronnie had came with him to help so I had to tell him good bye too and he is the uncle I am the closest to. So that was hard. I just felt like I was about to be really alone and I was scared but I still did everything I was supposed to. I kept my apartment clean and didn't sleep on the couch. For some reason we weren't allowed to lay down on the couch, only sit up. Maybe it was to help us avoid self pity and depression. For a while I was a bit depressed I think but then I just accepted it and started to be more alive, I can't think of a better word. So I spent 90 days there. Came home in May and lived with my Aunt Faye for a bit but ultimately ended up back at my Daddy's house. I got a job at a beach store but then was offered a job at a really busy restaurant as a server so I took that job and quit the store. I got really into doing nothing but working. It was almost a release and it was fun. It definitely had it's moments. For a while I didn't have a car so I found one online, I can't remember but I believe it was Craig's List. It was a nice, blue Acura TL. It had leather and was fully loaded. So my Daddy got it for me and I paid him the payments. But I made really good money at this restaurant so it was no problem. I also gave him money to put away in the safe. The day I got my car I asked for my savings so I could go bail Jonathan out of jail. He was accused of being involved in stealing coolers but he just knew about it, he wasn't involved. My Dad was NOT happy but he gave me the money because it was mine. So I get Jonathan out of jail and we have an awesome summer together. We went to the beach a lot and we would spend entire days there just so we could be together. Finally we had enough money by November to get our own place so we did. We got our first apartment together and I was SO happy because I was (and still am) so in love with him. It went exactly how we both knew it would...perfect. It was paradise for me to finally BE with him and it just made me so happy. We finally had what we had spent hours talking about at our special spot.

Doors To Freedom

 So yes, there I was in the car with my Daddy and stepmom, on the way to detox. I had my Dad stop at a CVS right before we got there so I could buy a phone card. But I also had him stop because I still had 2 bags of dope in my bag and I was determined to use one last time. Its the nature of the disease. Even though I WANTED to stop, that switch (you'll hear me talk more about "the switch") was flipped still and I was still and addict and I still wanted to be high. So I went into detox high as a kite. I don't think I'm alone. I this is a very common place thing that happens everyday when people are checking into rehand for whatever reason, getting high before you go in is a must. So I did. I get there, they meet us at the door and hurry me to say my goodbyes. I knew what I was walking into because I had been there 2 or 3 times before when I was MADE to. But this time..this time it was MY decision to be there and I was determined to succeed. I swore that would be the LAST time I ever used heroin and it was. I KNEW in my heart that this was it for me. I hugged my Daddy and stepmom, got my bags and walked away into those doors. Those were the doors to freedom even though they locked once you walked through them. Those locked, secure doors were the doors to the next chapter of my life and I just KNEW that THIS TIME, this was IT for me. I was done and I was entering into the process of becoming ME again...and I couldn't wait.

The Devil's Lies

 I apologize for the adjective but its really the only one that embodies how I felt at the time and the reality of what I was going through. God please forgive me? So, after I sat in the county jail for 3 weeks, detoxing off of suboxone & heroin (not fun). I had 2 pictures taped to my wall and they both were pictures of my kids. I had completely and utterly failed at my main role in this life God had so graciously given me. I had failed at being a Mom. Something so important to me that I couldn't put into words. And there I was in a striped outfit, sharing a radio with my roommate Kate (names will be changed as I don't have permission to use their name and although these are true words, I don't know the laws so I am trying to be safe) who was quite a bit older than me but was nice and mature and calm and that's all that mattered. We got a long well. I finally am allowed out. I go to my dads, knowing my son is in foster care, and park my butt in my Dad's "man cave" and smoked cigarettes' and thought. It took about 2 months of this self-loathing crap for me to realize this wasn't me. Who was this gaunt, frail, pale, skeleton of a person starring back at me who had lost her kids and was a complete f*up. Who are you? I didn't even recognize that person staring back at me. I was looking in the glass at the sink in my dad's kitchen at this moment, staring at the reflection....in the glass...and I was terrified. I knew all of a sudden that I needed to do the one thing that terrified me the most because my ultimate goal was to become the mother I needed to be for my babies. So I had this epiphany of sorts. I just realized I needed to check myself into rehab. The reason "check myself" is so important is because THIS TIME, it was MY decision. No one was making me. No one was forcing me. No one had even mentioned it actually. I just called my attorney one day and said, "Hey, I'm going to rehab, they're letting me bring Hayden with me(which is why I chose this route, it kept me with my baby) and I'll be back when I'm back. " He didn't say anything except ok. So there I went, the day came and, yes I was still using, so clearly the problem was substantial, I get the call that says you have to be here by such and such time, and when you get that call, you go. So I said my goodbye to Jonathan (believe me when I tell you how much self talk, and sheer determination and will power it took to leave him behind in a way. It weighed on my mind the whole time I was gone. I was SO afraid I'd get THAT call.) But I also HAD to get better. I had to control what I could and that was ME and MY actions so that's what I focused on.

So My Life Was Shit

 I apologize for the adjective but its really the only one that embodies how I felt at the time and the reality of what I was going through. God please forgive me? So, after I sat in the county jail for 3 weeks, detoxing off of suboxone & heroin (not fun). I had 2 pictures taped to my wall and they both were pictures of my kids. I had completely and utterly failed at my main role in this life God had so graciously given me. I had failed at being a Mom. Something so important to me that I couldn't put into words. And there I was in a striped outfit, sharing a radio with my roommate Kate (names will be changed as I don't have permission to use their name and although these are true words, I don't know the laws so I am trying to be safe) who was quite a bit older than me but was nice and mature and calm and that's all that mattered. We got a long well. I finally am allowed out. I go to my dads, knowing my son is in foster care, and park my butt in my Dad's "man cave" and smoked cigarettes' and thought. It took about 2 months of this self-loathing crap for me to realize this wasn't me. Who was this gaunt, frail, pale, skeleton of a person starring back at me who had lost her kids and was a complete f*up. Who are you? I didn't even recognize that person staring back at me. I was looking in the glass at the sink in my dad's kitchen at this moment, staring at the reflection....in the glass...and I was terrified. I knew all of a sudden that I needed to do the one thing that terrified me the most because my ultimate goal was to become the mother I needed to be for my babies. So I had this epiphany of sorts. I just realized I needed to check myself into rehab. The reason "check myself" is so important is because THIS TIME, it was MY decision. No one was making me. No one was forcing me. No one had even mentioned it actually. I just called my attorney one day and said, "Hey, I'm going to rehab, they're letting me bring Hayden with me(which is why I chose this route, it kept me with my baby) and I'll be back when I'm back. " He didn't say anything except ok. So there I went, the day came and, yes I was still using, so clearly the problem was substantial, I get the call that says you have to be here by such and such time, and when you get that call, you go. So I said my goodbye to Jonathan (believe me when I tell you how much self talk, and sheer determination and will power it took to leave him behind in a way. It weighed on my mind the whole time I was gone. I was SO afraid I'd get THAT call.) But I also HAD to get better. I had to control what I could and that was ME and MY actions so that's what I focused on.

The Devil's In Town

 So yesterday I let my son go out to play at about 10:30am. HE comes back in in tears saying there's a man telling him his Daddy isn't his Daddy and that this man is his Daddy. So then there is a knock at the door and standing there is my Ex's oldest son, Brad. He just said he wanted me to know he wasn't trying to cause trouble he came to tell me they were moving in right there. In MY neighborhood. IDK what to even do. This is the man I have put a lot of energy into keeping Hayden from because he is toxic. He was toxic to me and he will be toxic to Hayden.

Jonathan has been here for Hayden for the past 5 years. Kenny has not. If he wasn't incarcerated, he was out getting messed up, I have the mug shots to prove it. Jonathan DID SO MUCH with Hayden and they are best friends. Now here comes Kenny trying to rock the boat. It makes me wanna move.

Me vs. Me

 So, this is going to be a short post but I thought I'd post a picture showing what I looked liked after only a couple months after becoming a full blown addict (left) and me TODAY as a former addict in RECOVERY.

Back to Falling in Love

 So the reason Jonathan walking out on that beach that day was so important is because a couple months after Kenny was gone for good, Jonathan and I had developed a relationship. It had built over time, spending every day together (yes chasing drugs) and having so many long conversations at our special spot (its a secret, that's what makes it special), a real, good, pure, friendship grew and from THAT the relationship grew. I can remember riding down the road, exactly where we were which was on the road to my Dad's house, and he said, "I want you to be my girl friend" to which I replied, "I thought I already was" with a cheesy grin on my face. And it was so. We were officially together and I was SO happy. I had never had feelings like that for someone before. He didn't know this but, I idolized him. He was my world before he was my world, if that makes sense. But anyway, so that is why I said, that rear view mirror was so important, because that's where it truly started and no matter the time spent away from each other that spark was lit in both of us. The only thing in the way was my oh so toxic relationship with Kenny. But, he was gone and Jonathan and I just grew closer and closer...even though we were doing dope together every day, that does NOT discount our connection. He was the only thing that made me feel good because the drugs didn't even do that anymore. No, they just made me "normal" which in the addict world means NOT SICK. Our relationship was the ONE thing that was just mine, and brought me joy in an intensely joyless lifestyle.

So, we go on for months just hanging out and getting dope and hanging out and getting dope. He even OD'd in my car in our "special place" and I freaked out but I had NARCAN so I hit him with that. I had to physically pull him pants down while he sat in my passenger seat and pull down his pants to give him this shot in the proper location. Long story short, the ambulance met me but by the time they got there he was AWAKE BECAUSE OF THE NARCAN (I can't stress enough how having Narcan with you can SAVE A LIFE, even if it is a stranger. I get this is a controversial issue and now is neither the time nor place for me to get on my soap box about THAT subject.

Back to the story, I had actually gotten in trouble, it was a Tuesday. I was tasked with going to this place called the "quarters" that you DO NOT want to be in, to get us both some bags because he was at work. So I go, get them and decide I don't wanna wait to do mine so I pull over at a park (my son's in the backseat btw) and I park right in front on the playground. Well it was mid-morning so he fell asleep. I did my shot and it s was STRONG and I nodded out right there so someone, understandably, called the cops. I called my cousin to come get Hayden so social services wouldn't take him and then I sat and talked to two narcotics officers who were saying, if you will agree to work with us we will take you in, book you, and let you go. So, of course, I said yes. So Jonathan found a way to pick up my car from the park and he came and picked me up and where did we go? To "town" (that's ours and anyone who does dope's nickname for Wilmington) to get more bags since his were taken and I just wanted more. So we get them, come home, I drop Jonathan off, he lived with his parents at the time, just as I did, and I went home and acted like everything was cool. So Friday comes. Pay Day. This is the day we both look forward to each week...sad, I know. So I had court that morning for what happened on Tuesday (of the same week, keep that in mind) and when I got out I called Jonathan and he said "Come on, we got our checks", so I go get him in Southport and by this time I am feeling pretty bad (dope sick) so I let him, with no license, drive us to town. We get syringes and the dope and pull over at an apartment complex and do what we do and put everything away. During that time, a social worker had called me, and I just told Jonathan I had a feeling, in my gut (which is NEVER wrong) that I was going to lose my son. He buffed it off and said "Babe, that's not gonna happen, stop stressing it." So we leave the complex and head out of town, Jonathan with 4 bags of heroin and me with empty bags (because I saved then and I'd scrape them when I was desperate) in my wallet, syringes, and, well, you get the picture. Then on the bridge, I see this navy blue Camaro and I tell him, "Babe that looks like the undercovers I talked to on Tuesday". He doesn't really say anything and then we rounded the corner which also happens to be the county line for Brunswick (where we live) and New Hanover, where Wilmington is. As soon as we crossed that line cops came from everywhere!!! I'm talk running up to the car screaming "Let me see your hands". Well, my window didn't roll down so I had to open the door and this cop (whom I knew personally) is screaming at me about what did I stuff in my bra so I showed him EMPTY heroin bags. He then hand cuffs me and over on Jonathan's side, the same thing. And my poor son was in the back seat the whole time. Thank goodness he was too young to remember any of this although, I know one day I will have to explain a lot to him and Ava, but that will be when the time comes. Ava already really knows everything. I told her because she is a mature 10yr old and I like being honest and open with my kids. But poor little Hayden was just sitting there watching not having any clue whats going on. This short, *expletive*, cocky cop puts me and Hayden in his Camaro and on the way to jail I ask him if he got up with my Dad and he said yes. So I was like, well is he coming to pick up the baby? He said, "Nope", with this mean, spiteful look on his face, almost happy. He then explains to me that my son will be going into foster care. That's the enormous, eye-opening moment when EVERYTHING, all the years of drug use flash before my eyes and then its like back to reality and I just cried. I whispered to Jonathan while we were waiting to be booked in that Hayden was going to foster care and he just started crying. He stood there with tears streaming down his face. He was blaming himself but I don't know why because I was a willing participant and he definitely didn't have to twist my arm in any way, so it wasn't his fault. It was mine because he was MY son and I am the one who is in charge of him and I let him down. I let my son down in the worst way, I abandoned him. Now I have two children that I love more than life itself and I can't see either of them. My life was shit, and because my life was shit is why this is a pivotal point in my story. More to come later!