My Struggle

"I hate my life, I have got to change," she told me. "I have no other choice."

Billy and I had been making plans, for a few weeks. Talking about getting her a job close to my place and having her move in. We skirted around the elephant in the room, her addiction, but we both know resolving that too was part of the plan. At first she was going to move in right after Christmas, during my holiday break. I knew she had a prescription for Suboxone, I thought she was going to try detoxing with me over that time period. She kept moving the date up.

She told me she needed $1100 for rehab. The price her mothers insurance would not cover. She had her bags packed and was ready to go. I got the money without hesitation. I told Billy I would hand it to her mom. She agreed but her mother was not there when I got to her house.

Billy was wearing I fluffy pink bathrobe over her clothes when I got to her home. Her mother had their home already decorated for Christmas. A tree was in the front room. Painted Santa figurines were on a shelf above the stove.

I told Billy I would wait for her mother to return. I was not going to give the money to her. She got mad at me for not trusting her. I knew something else was going on. I was not sure what. I took Billy to McDonalds to get something to eat. When we returned her mother was still not there. Heroin is much like anti-depressants, it seems to shut down every emotion but anger.
Billy started getting loud. I pushed back but did not raise my voice to match hers. I tried to keep her calm.

Lies were being mixed in with the truth, again. One thing was clear her mother didn't know about the money, perhaps the whole rehab adventure. She got pissed and told me to leave. So I did. I told her, "when you are ready to tell me the truth, I'll be in the area." We continued the conversation through phone calls and text messages.

I always felt it was the drugs keeping us apart, everyone else said it was the drugs keeping us together. Maybe they were right, a part of me didn't want to find out. The money wasn't the object here, it was the truth, my feelings and her health at stake.

I had no doubt she was going to rehab, a clinic or to somehow try to clean herself up. She had no choice. The money could be for back doubt to her drug dealer. They don't stop collecting when you go to rehab. The debt just keeps gaining interest. The question really was where will she go when she was done and who would she be with?

In the end I relented, I drove back to her house with tears in my eyes. Every part of my was screaming this is wrong--but not for her, for me. Which means everything is wrong and I should never be cornered in this position to begin with but if I really loved her how could I deny her this. She was dress and ready to go when I returned. "I will come straight to your house when I am out", she tells me, "In fact, you can pick me up."

Later that night I get a text. "Billy told me to tell you she is in rehab. She said she would call. This is her mom."