Amikolle

…where I have been for the past 2 weeks, here’s the story.

It all begins about 2.5 weeks ago, when I snuck out of my parent’s house (where I had been staying because of the second relapse I had), took a bus to Baltimore at 1 am, and relapsed for the third time.  I didn’t have any money,except the change I took from my father’s drawer for the bus, so when I got down there I fed off other’s “kindness” for a bit, then resorted to selling for a guy I knew from a long time ago.  Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours, and suddenly it was 6 am and I knew I was in trouble.  My new cell phone started ringing, first with Badr, then my parents.  Of course I didn’t pick up.  I was feeling ashamed, guilty and very sad, because I knew I had once again disappointed my family and Badr, but that didn’t stop me from continuing to stay where I was, and do what I was doing.

What I didn’t know is that my cell phone, one of those kid phones with limited access to calls, included a GPS feature.

So my father and Badr were searching the streets for me all morning, and they knew pretty much where I was.  In fact, they came to the house in which I was mid-morning, and the girl that lived there told them I was not there, at my request.  They returned later, and after bribing the girl with $50, and being reasonably certain that I was in that particular house, Badr kicked the door in, and my father came up the stairs.  I had been hiding under a pile of filthy blankets and rugs in a corner of the bedroom, and my father started pulling them off from me, and just said that we were leaving.

I was crying, dirty, and still a little high when I came down the rickety steps, but Badr welcomed me with open arms.  We got into his car, and as we were driving to my parents’ house, he asked me what I wanted to do.

“I want to go to rehab.”

And go I did.  I spent 5 days in the psychiatric ward in Laurel Regional Hospital, where I got my meds all straightened out (a huge relief for me and everyone around me, because that was definitely a contributing factor to my relapses), and then went to Warwick Manor Behavioral Health, on the eastern Shore of MD.  I spent 7 days there, learning a variety of things about addiction as a disease, the scientific and medical aspects of what drugs and alcohol do to the brain, and how to keep my anxiety in check.  It was a wonderful experience, and I highly recommend anyone seeking treatment make that one of his or her options.  The staff and counselors were wonderful, the scenery is ideal, and the classes are packed with useful information.

Badr picked me up yesterday morning, and after a brief stop at my parents’ house, we spent the rest of the day together, and I even had a “moment”.  We were sitting in the car after returning from an NA meeting, and talking about our history as a couple, and it just ht me–how lucky I am to have Badr in my life, a man who respects me and loves me and treats me like a queen, how much I love him.  I cried like a baby, he wiped my tears, and I think we both felt uplifted.

I know I have a lot of hard work ahaead of me, but I feel ready and willing to move forward.  This is real, this feeling, and it is powerful.