My last December with Mark… the first quit.

My last December with Mark is foggy in my head. We were fighting so much it was starting to get really crazy; in fact, it was easier to count the days out of the week that we didn’t fight. We fought about everything; the power getting turned off, bills not being paid but we still had meth, he was accusing me of cheating, I was just realizing that he was cheating… it was all UGLY. I think my brain, for as fried as it was, has blocked out most of that month. Except for December 28. That day I won’t forget. We were about to get the biggest snow storm that I could ever remember, and my life was about to change – big time.

Unfortunately, Mark and I rode to work together because we worked at the same airport, which means about 50 minutes in the car; high, tweaking, starving, exhausted, fatigued, stressed, and angry. I remember it was raining as we were getting ready for work but I can’t remember what started the fight. I remember that we were running late because we had been fighting, and as I was getting ready to walk out the door, he told me that I wasn’t going to work with him and that I need to stay here and pack my things – if I was here by the time he got home, he was going to kill me. Then he left for work.

I was a HOT MESS. It was 6:30am, it was one of our worse fights, and now he was going to kill me when he got home. I was SO ALONE. I was so TWEAKED out. I was so DESPERATE. It was time. It was time. Now, it was time to end this. I could no longer go on like this. We had so much good that was DISTROYED by meth and none of that mattered. It was time to leave. Leave.

Sobbing, I made my first honest phone call. I called my dad and told him everything; about the meth, about the fighting (which he already knew about – he had just rescued me that past Thanksgiving), about the threat on my life. And just like any best dad would do, he started telling me what to do. The rain was getting heavier, the storm was really starting to move in, and I had a 50 minute drive to town. He told me to get whatever I could and get it in my car. He told me that I needed to call my boss and be honest with him and that I wouldn’t be coming to work that day – or maybe for a couple of days. He told me that I needed to call him as soon as I was leaving because we were both REALLY concerned if I was going to be able to drive I was tweaked out so much. He told me that I was coming to his house. He did not tell me that it would be okay.

I packed what I could in a panic. And then I called my boss. He was NOT HAPPY. He had just confronted me about this a few months past and I had lied to him over and over (I’ll tell you more about this another time) and he said fine, take the time but keep my work cell phone with me so he could call if he needed to know something.  I remember hearing the anger and disappointment in his voice. He wasn’t mad about my current situation, he was mad that I had lied to him so many times when all he had wanted to  do was help me. Oh, wait, help me…. Plans changed, he wanted me to come to work and call my insurance about what benefits I had for addiction treatment. I tried to argue with him that I was too exhausted for that, but he insisted that I do it or he would fire me on the spot. So, I called my dad and told him I had to stop by my work first (which is DANGEROUSLY close to Mark’s work since we both worked at the same airport). Both warned me to not engage Mark if I saw him.

By now, it’s almost 9am and the rain had turned into fat, heavy snowflakes. I went out to the horses and gave them some extra hay. I kissed my sweet girl on the nose and headed to the car. I looked back once on all the awesomeness that we had built together and I started crying again. We had so much good that had turned so bad. I still now feel that deep deep hurt. My horse nickered at me as I turned away. The snow was starting to stick. My tears were frozen on my face.

I called my dad and he was really concerned about me driving in the snow to work, but I had no choice but to do it. I was so scared, so tired, so heartbroken. I needed a line of meth RIGHT NOW. I was panicked for just a little bump that would at least keep me awake while driving in this crazy storm. A little line of meth would have made me feel straighter for the task at hand. It would be the only thing that could calm me right now – but Mark took it all with him to work. I usually kept a little aside hidden for myself but our fighting had been so bad, I had used it to get through work the last couple of days so I was OUT. I was officially on my own – no meth to get me by. I can’t tell you how horrible I felt pulling out of the driveway. There was already about an inch of snow on the ground.

How did I get to work? I don’t know. I cried, watched the window wipers, and did my best to stay awake. I was relieved when I pulled into work that no one was there and I ran inside. I called my dad and told him I was there. He said I wouldn’t have to drive anymore and as soon as he finished his job, he and his good friend would come get me and take me home. He told me to hurry up and get done what I needed to get done and reminded me not to engage Mark if I saw him.

I was a mess. I couldn’t stop shuddering from the cold storm and crying. I sat at my desk and tried to find my insurance card. The irony – I had that insurance for the last two years and it was AWESOME insurance – and NEVER USED IT. Now, I go to use it and it’s for meth addiction treatment. It took everything I had to dial the number. If fact, I don’t remember how many times it took for me to dial the number and to enter my ID number. My eyes were closing and I was slipping away. And then I was on hold. I turned on the heater under my desk and the hold music began to make me float away. Then a voice on the line who asked how they could help me – I was so gone I could barely talk, but I remember starting my conversation that ‘I’m sorry, I’m coming down from meth and I need help’. I already knew that I would not go into inpatient treatment – my dad had told me that he was going to take care of me so the customer service representative started looking for counselors that were covered. I can’t tell you how hard it was to write down what she was saying and I felt myself falling out so many times. That conversation seemed to have lasted forever but finally she brought it to a close. I was mostly asleep when she hung up the phone. I could barely read my writing through my half closed eyes. Just then, my dad walked into to save me. But before I could leave, I called my boss and told him that I had a counseling appointment set up after the New Year and my dad was here to get me. Then, surprisingly, my dad asked to talk to him. I remember laying there with my head on my desk listening to my dad tell my boss that I was almost totally gone, that no, I wouldn’t be driving anywhere, that he was taking me to his house, that no, Mark wouldn’t have access to me, and that there would be no point in trying to contact me because he was taking my cell phone, wallet, and car keys as soon as he got me in his van. And that was my intervention from my dad.

There was almost a foot of snow on the ground now when we left the airport – my dad’s friend was driving my car and I was riding with my dad. He didn’t scold me. He didn’t ask me bunch of questions. He did tell me that I wouldn’t need the cell phone (or any phone) for a while, that I was not to have contact with anyone from the outside world for a least a week (if someone needed to talk to me, they would have to go through him), and he would deal with Mark if he came looking for me. I remember opening up my eyes for a second as we drove past Mark’s work and saw his truck. The pain made me close my eyes again and I slipped away with the sound of the wipers trying to beat the snow.

So, I’m leaving this with you now. Honestly, I’m emotionally exhausted just reliving this event. I’ll be back soon about waking up on my dad’s floor with his dogs keeping me warm – because at this point, the journey was just beginning.

———– ADDED NOTE ————-

I wrote this a couple of days ago and I need to share with you what happened to me from then until now. It’s important. It’s about triggers. Maybe you’re say, ‘no, I don’t have triggers about meth. Nah, if I see or hear anything about meth, it doesn’t make me want to run go get a bag…’ Guess what, friend? It goes beyond that, meth triggers don’t direct you back to using meth, and our triggers lie DEEP within our conscious. MOST LIKELY, you won’t even know that your trigger has been pulled – you just end up dealing with a problem that’s come up. Let me explain.

After I wrote the above blog, let me tell you, it took a toll on me! I hadn’t thought about any of that for a LONG TIME, let alone ever write it out in detail. And as the details surfaced, I totally began re-living the hurt, the stress, the distress, the loneliness, the pain all over again. After I stepped away from the computer, Jack asked me if I was okay and we talked about it for a bit. I went to bed restless; all those feelings were awake in me again. The next part of this blog is going to dig even deeper. Interestingly enough to me (and much relieved), I didn’t dream about meth, or Mark, or anything sub sequential. No, that trigger wasn’t pulled. It was another that took me by surprise.

I believe that most all the meth addicts that I know, including myself, recognize that gaining weight as a serious issue after becoming sober. I’ll talk to you more about this later. It’s been an up-and-down issue for me (I’ll talk more about this later too) but right now, I’m seeking to lose the last seven pounds from my second baby that would get me into the size cloths that I’m the most happiest in. Just the last couple of months, I’ve concentrated on changing my diet eliminating a few very-favorite foods that are not good for me and adding more satisfying and healthy foods. Anyways, with God and self-control, I’m able to changes things like that without remorse and able to make big changes like that.

After I wrote this blog and right before I went to bed, I found myself in the cheese drawer totally grazing on shredded cheese – something that I have done really well at eliminating from my diet. I ate. And ate. And ate. I heard the voice in my head screaming ‘what on earth are you doing??? Get away from the fridge! You are going to totally going to regret this’ which I took a couple more bite. I shoved past the guilt and downed de-cafe-coffee with a bunch of creamer. And because that trigger wasn’t done yet, I thought I better have one of those cookies that had been in my cupboard for WEEKS that I hadn’t tried yet –just to make sure they were still edible. Since one was, I had to make sure that the second and third would be just as good. The voice of reason was screaming crazy at me to get myself together and just STOPPED. My binge would have put a stoner to shame. I finally departed the kitchen full and craving more.

As I prepared for bed, the voice of reason was questioning what on earth just happened and why? I ignored it and went to bed. The next day, I was busy, still mulling over the blog, and kept finding myself in the kitchen doing more harm to my health than good. I used every excuse possible to condone my binge and continued to ignore any attempts my body made to get me to stop. I was starting to wonder where I had put the maturity cloths I had recently stored away so if another size was needed, it would be available. ABSOLUTLY REDICULOUS. Months of work and fine-tuning of my diet and health conscious behaviors OUT THE DOOR. Then the next night, it finally hit me.

The stress from re-living the feelings of my life falling apart that fateful December had pulled a trigger that caused me to self-medicate and self-fulfill. No, it didn’t make me go do some meth, it made me eat uncontrollably to make myself feel better. Yeah, its healthier than doing meth, but in my time of life now, it’s just as unhealthy as if I did meth.

I got this now. I see what happened and I’m ready to keep writing the remainder of this story. Knowing that I have a trigger there, I know that voice of reason is the one that needs to be listened to. You have one too.

And there is something more that will give me peace and reassurance in a healthy way. God. In Proverbs 3:5-6, there is a promise that I already held dear, but now it is my go-to for this trigger; “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your path”. I know that blogging about these hard experiences and lessons learned it’s going to affect me; it’s going to pull triggers that I don’t realize I have. But I know where I want my life so I’m going to trust in Him and dare not lean on my own understanding. He’s going to guide me as I’m sharing with you, and I’m going to remember this lesson that I’ve learned with this blog – in all my ways I’m going to acknowledge Him, and He’s promised to direct my path.

And stay out of the fridge.


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About Carlee Walker

My name is Carlee and I'm a meth addict. I've been clean for nine years and celebrating normal life. Yes, a meth addict can have a normal life and the addiction can be like a scar on the knee. AND you don't have to face your addiction alone! Jesus has already promised to help us if we just call on Him - and my life is now fulfilling thanks to Him. Come, journey with me. Share with me. Grow with me. Together, we can celebrate normal life.

2 comments on “My last December with Mark… the first quit.

  1. So much courage Carlee. Such a sad and disturbing story – and I’m only reading it, not living it. No wonder you were affected after writing it. And to think…this was just he beginning of an amazing and traumatic journey to healing.

    PS You’ve got a great dad

    • Linda, Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. I write it hoping to reach an addict that has hit bottom like I did. Please feel free to share and pray that it will help someone else. Yes, I’ve got a great dad!

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