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Recovery Story – Lynne Huysamen (Part 8)

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  • 17 Sep 2020
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I Would Be Happy If All These Bad Things Stopped Happening To Me.

Stress is taking its toll on me. It is the 23rd of December and I have had no money. Yes, I got paid on the 15th of December and I got the 13th check.  

The problem is that I spent that money long before it arrived. Months ago, years ago. I don’t really know because my finances are such a mess it is too scary to look too closely.  

All I know is that money bounces out of my bank account faster than it arrives.  

There was a little left and my dealer was waiting for me to pay him off for the cocaine he has been giving to me on tap.  

He knows I pay. He knows what I earn. He knows what day I get paid. He knows where I live  and he knows where I work.  

If I owe a lot of money, he will be waiting in his car for me when I finish work on payday. I  follow him and draw out the maximum I can and I hand it straight over.  

I am sitting at home and I have just gotten confirmation from another bank that I have been granted a loan (yes another one). What a relief.  

Two more sleeps until Christmas and I haven’t bought any presents for my family.  I know I should pay my rent right now. I am two months behind.  

Instead, I decide to be kind to myself and go Christmas shopping.  

I won’t buy anything extravagant, just small token gifts for my parents and my sister.  Thankfully my older sister is living in the UK so we don’t buy gifts.  

Buying gifts for other people makes me really happy and I love Christmas.  I just hope my parents don’t go on about how thin I look and keep asking me if I am ok.  

“I am so tired of having to pretend to be happy. I would be happy if all these bad things stopped happening to me”

If people would just leave me alone and trust me.  

I push these thoughts away. I have just received good news, I don’t have to worry about money for a little while and I can have a nice morning out.  

Deep down inside me, a voice starts asking me how I intend on paying this massive loan back that I cannot afford.  

That voice doesn’t get to finish the question, it gets pushed down to the bottom of me,  sloshing around with a glass of wine.  

Yes, I know it is only 9 am but it is the festive season after all. 

Who Doesn’t Drink In The Morning In December?

I am all happy and excited again. It is going to be a great day. 

When I get to the shop’s everyone is festive. So many people out and about with their loved ones.  

Not like me, I am alone.  

I decide to have some breakfast first while I decide what gifts I might buy.  

I can’t remember the last time I ate. When I am high on cocaine I cannot eat, all hunger  vanishes with the first line.  

When I drink and when I am hungover I cannot eat because my stomach is so tender I will  just vomit it all up. 

Since I have been in one of those three states (or all three a lot of the time) for most of  December I really can’t remember my last meal.  

That annoying voice comes back again and reminds me not to spend too much money. I still  have a huge whack of bills to pay, I owe friends money and I also have to pay my rent.  

The loan I have just taken probably won’t even cover all of that so I must be careful.  

For the first time probably this month I am actually hungry, so I tell this voice to fuck off. I  am entitled to eat right?  

Entering the closest restaurant, I ask the most important thing of all…. Do you serve booze?  The lady looks down her nose at me and informs me yes, but not before 11am.  I look at my watch and head out to find another restaurant.  

The next restaurant happily serves me up a cold draft of beer while I decide what I want to  eat.  

My mind wanders and I start thinking about what gifts my family might like.  

The waitress returns to take my food order. What already? Oh right, sorry I haven’t even  looked at the menu yet, but you can bring me another draft.  

When she brings that draft, I order myself some breakfast along with my third draft.  

Choosing gifts is something I love doing. I wander around and it takes me some time to find  the perfect gift for each member of my family.  

The gifts I choose are not what I planned on or budgeted for but I am so pleased with what I  found that it doesn’t matter.  

Checking the time, I see it is lunch time already. Maybe I should rest my feet and have a bite  to eat before I go home?  

I head back to the same restaurant and I tell myself not to have too much to drink because I  don’t want to be drunk on the roads at this time of year.  

There are bound to be cops all over the place and I don’t want to be arrested.  

So I only have one draft and decide I’m not really hungry so I will skip the cost of lunch. I  need to spend as little as possible, so I head off home. Why was I so stressed out recently anyway, things will always work out fine in the end won’t  they?  

Someone hoots behind me and I wonder what the fuck their problem is. People get so  moody over Christmas don’t they?  

I’m not looking forward to going home and doing nothing all day. I don’t have a boyfriend to  keep me company.  

I owe almost all my friends money and the only one I don’t owe money to I am not talking  to. I can’t remember what our fall out was about but I won’t be the one to give in and say  sorry.  

The thought of being the only bored and lonely person tonight, when by the looks of  everyone out and about I will be the only sorry soul, is too much for me.  

Maybe I Can Do Something On The Way Home To Take My Mind Off Of My Life?  

Hey there’s a bar… maybe I can stop there for a bit? I’ve never been to that bar, that might  be fun. Explore new places, meet new people.  

The bar is dark and dingy inside and just about deserted. There is the barman, a few bar flies  and a couple of people playing pool.  

I put on a huge smile and sit at the bar. The barman is friendly. I order a drink and we start  chatting. 

The DVD of my life does another skip.  

I am trying to unlock my car but I am struggling to get the key in the slot. I close one eye and  it helps a lot.  

I unlock the passenger door to let in my new friend Bob.  

Everything does another skip and I am pulling into the garage parking in front of the 24 hour  shop. I have run out of cigarettes and I can’t go a minute without smoking.  

Everything is so blotchy now. I am on the road again, driving along when a siren goes off  behind me.  

What the fuck have I done wrong? I wrack my brain trying to think what I could have  possibly done that would have made a cop notice me.  

I draw a blank.  

This is typical, I have done nothing wrong and the cops are out to get me.  I decide fuck it and put foot.  

This little voice is screaming inside me telling me I’ve gone too far and I must stop before  this gets out of hand.  

Suddenly I am scared and I want to stop the car but I know I have gone too far and I am  terrified of the consequences. I realize how drunk I am and I put all my effort into not crashing my car and not being  caught.  

I pull into a side road, thinking I am so close to home. If I zig zag around maybe, just maybe, I  can get them off my ass? You know like they do in the movies.  

I am just two roads away from my house and right at this second I cannot see a cop. I can  hear the siren but I can’t see the cops.  

The roads are so narrow and tight and I am pushing my 1300 VW Chico like it has never  gone before…  

I’m going to make it, I am going to be ok.  

OMG there he is, he has just turned in behind me.  

I still have a chance though…  

Nope. I am fucked. This is it. My life is over. 

There are now two cop cars behind me and two in front of me.  

For a crazy moment I consider trying to squeeze past the cop cars in front of me before I  realize that I am done for and anything else I try will just be hammering another nail in my  coffin.  

I pull over and wobble out of the car.  

Cops stream towards me and handcuff me.  

They are saying things to me but I am so scared and shocked I don’t know what they are  saying.  

I see one cop opening the passenger door of my car and pulling poor Bob out roughly, so I  shout out “No, please. He doesn’t even know me. Just take him home.”  

The cop takes his hands off a terrified Bob.  

Ok so I have done one thing right today.  

Something tells me that it won’t help me one bit with the mess I am in.  

As the cops are driving off with me locked in the back, I look out the caged window and I  wonder what they will do with my car.  

Did They Even Take My Keys? Did I Leave My Keys In The Ignition?

I light up a smoke with shaky hands and the cop knocks on the window. Obviously I am not  allowed to smoke in the back.  

I ignore them, it’s not like they can do anything more to me right now and I need this  smoke.  

We are pulling up outside a hospital and I don’t know what is going on. The cops are arguing with someone and eventually, they come back. 

It turns out they want to take my blood and there is no doctor to do it. The cops have told  them to call someone in immediately.  

We wait inside and it feels like forever. These cops are not the friendly type and they are in  one foul mood.  

I crack a joke and the place echoes. The cops look at me like they would love to kick my  teeth in.  

It must be at least 3 hours later and the cops take me into a room.  

The doctor also doesn’t have much of a sense of humour.  

He asks me my age and I get it wrong. I give my age less a year. Which might have been  understandable if it was near my birthday… but my birthday is in April and it is December. 

I realize my mistake and decide to keep quiet about it, no point in proving how drunk I am  without them even taking my blood right? 

The doctor frowns at me. He says I must be 24 if I was born in 1979. I smile sweetly at him  and say yes that is what I said, 24 years old.  

I can see he is not fooled. I glance at the cops and they are rolling their eyes.  The doctor asks me how much I have had to drink and I want to tell him he is rude.  

In all the movies they ask IF they’ve had any alcohol to drink. He shouldn’t be making unfair  assumptions.  

I wonder what the legal limit is and I take a while to answer. 

I tell him I have had three beers but that was early in the evening, long before I got in the  car.  

He stares at me and raises one eyebrow. He doesn’t write this down, he just looks at me like  I have to change my story. I stare back at him. 

I can see the two cops whispering to each other and one of them laughs.  

The doctor takes my blood and makes me sign a form. I wonder what it says but I can’t see  straight enough to read.  

My signature doesn’t come close to what it usually looks like.  

I can see the L and then there is just a straight line off the page.  

Before We Leave The Room They Cuff Me Again. Geez, Do They Think I Will Run Off?  

They drive to the police station with me cuffed in the back. I try to stay away from the  windows because I am worried someone might recognize me.  

I feel like I have suffered enough humiliation already.  

When I walk through the doors to the police station the cop behind the desk takes a second  to place me and then says “Well look who is here again! Couldn’t stay away huh?”. 

It’s not like I wanted to be here you know. 

I can see into the holding cell and I start to panic. There are quite a lot of men in there and  they look like the type of people that should be behind bars.  

They lead me past the door to the holding cell where I am accustomed to being held. I breathe a sigh of relief and give the cop a questioning look.  

He tells me that I will get my own cell at the back tonight. I thank him sincerely and for the  first time he looks a bit sorry for me.  

I am all alone in my cell. It is different from the holding cell. It is a lot more dirty and dark for  starters. Almost like a dungeon and it is small.  

There is a mattress with a blanket on it. It looks dirty but the floor is cold and hard.  

I try sitting on it but within a few seconds I am sure I can feel things crawling on my skin so I  jump off and sit on the concrete floor near the door.  

It feels like time stands still and I am stuck there sitting with my arms around my knees on  the cold floor. My bum is numb.  

I hear a voice I recognize echoing faintly down the passage.  

It is only now that I wonder what happened to my one phone call they always allow  prisoners when they are arrested in the movies.  

Did they offer me one? Did I ask for one? 

I wonder who I would have called? I can’t think of anyone that I would want to come and get me.  

I am struggling to hear what the cops and Jane are saying.  

I lean closer, close my eyes and concentrate. I start catching little bits of the conversation. 

Drunk driving…. Hitting a parked car… Leaving the scene of an accident… Resisting arrest….  Pending investigation…  

What the fuck happened to my life.  

I am not a bad person, I swear it. I don’t know who this other person is.  What did I do to deserve this? I am not a vicious criminal. I don’t assault or murder people. Deep down I am a good person, my intentions are good.  

I just wanted to go to the shops to buy my family some Christmas presents. How can something so simple go so wrong? 

There is no window so I don’t know if it is morning or night still. It feels like it could be  Christmas day already.  Eventually a cop comes and opens the cell. He tells me it is time to go, Jane has paid my bail.  

I am taken to the front where I have to answer a whole lot of questions and I have to sign a  lot of paperwork. An eternity later I am allowed to leave with Jane, with a copy of all the paperwork and a  court date. In the car Jane says nothing for a long time. I pull down the visor to look at myself and I get a  shock.  

My mascara is all over the place, my eyes are red and bloodshot.  

I am dirty and sticky. I am a mess. I look like I should be in a cell.  

Jane asks me what happened and I try to explain but nothing makes sense.

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