The Beginning of the End

I was shocked when Jim told me he left rehab. I was also angry. You went there to get help, not to leave 24 hours later! He went home and cleaned up then drove to my house. He brought a beautiful basket bouquet of hand-cut flowers from his parents' garden. We went out. We drove to the area where he lived, in King of Prussia, PA. He took me to a bar that he used to go to. We got pretty drunk and I pretty much didn't think about anything that had happened. It was my birthday and I wanted to enjoy it. We spent the night at his house, then he drove me to work in the morning.

The next week was hell week. The next night, I had allowed Jim to stay at my house. My parents were at the bar. Jim and I decided to be intimate with each other. Right in the middle, my mother, completely obliterated, kicked my door down and attacked me. We got dressed, I took my daughter, and we left the house. My mom followed, screaming the whole time that I wasn't taking my daughter. I had to carry her about four blocks until I was able to get away from my mom. Jim pulled up and we got into the car. We drove to his house. His mother wasn't very happy to see us at all. I told her what happened, minus the sex part. She asked if my mom was mad because Jim was there. I said yeah, he said no. I wound up spending the week there.

During that week, I had my finals for my classes. With everything that was going on, along with my work schedule, I didn't have much time to study. I couldn't concentrate on my exams. I went from averaging 3 A's and a B for that semester to my final grades being one B, two C's, and a D, all thanks to my finals. I was devastated. It brought my GPA from a 3.7 to a 2.6.

That Saturday, I was at work and Jim was watching Mollyanne. While I was there, I got a phone call from Jim's parents. He had gotten arrested. He was high, driving on I76 in the suburbs of Philadelphia; he most likely was on his way home from buying his bundle of dope when someone called the police to report him for erratic driving. From his license plate, they found out his address and went to his house. He was arrested for paraphernalia and possession. His parents drove Mollyanne to me and we went back to my parents.

A week later, Jim went in front of a judge. He spent the time in jail, as his parents refused to bail him out and I didn't have the money...I don't think I would've paid the bail anyway. He got lucky in the sense that the cop who arrested him knew him - he was the coach for Jim's nephew's baseball team. He told the judge that Jim was a good guy and the only person he had known to have beaten heroin, up to that point, at least. He asked for the judge to be lenient and was sentenced to rehab. He went straight there from court, where he spent 28 days.

I was so happy to see Jim after he finished rehab. He looked so much healthier in just that short amount of time. Of course we were together the day he got out. Unfortunately, the happiness was short-lived. He got out on a Thursday and that Sunday, we went to an Irish festival. After the festival, he went and got high.

I didn't know he started to get high again. A week later, he was at the bar around the corner from my house. I found out I was pregnant. I went to the bar and we fought. He left and walked towards the el train. I went home and after a few minutes, started to call him. He wouldn't answer his phone. I was worried that he would relapse, so I ran up to the el. He was there, waiting for the next train. I ran over to him. I tried to convince him not to go. I even held him in place so he couldn't get on the train when it came. He told me later that he was surprised at how strong I was. After he couldn't get on the train, we walked down the steps together. I was relieved.

After we walked through the turnstiles and started towards my house, he broke away from me. For about two or three blocks, I tried holding him back, and he just pushed through me. I grabbed his wallet and phone from his pocket. He pushed me and I knocked him onto the ground. He got up, pushed me again, and I put him into a headlock. I wound up flipping him over my shoulder. He got up and ran. I was done chasing him. It didn't matter what I said or did, he wasn't going to stop. I walked home. He came for his phone and money the next day. We didn't talk for a couple days.

The entire summer was like that. I wound up having a miscarriage in July, at 7 weeks. Even though I hadn't wanted to have anymore kids, I was devastated. It put me into a deep depression but only I knew that I was depressed. I started taking xans again. In August, Jim tried to get his job back. He was doing the xans with me, in addition to smoking weed and doing heroin. He got Suboxone to prevent him from getting dope sick, and we both stopped taking the xans. I still smoked. He got his job back. He was clean for about two weeks when we decided to go to the bar after he got his first paycheck.

One night after him being drunk, he went to his spot to get heroin. He was really, really wasted. I told him to come to my house to spend the night; I asked him where he was and told him I would meet him. While walking up Frankford Ave, he stopped talking. He wouldn't respond to anything I said. I started to panic because the area he was in wasn't good at all. I hung up the phone and called back repeatedly. After about five minutes, a guy answered his phone:

GUY: Hello?
ME: Hello? Who's this?
GUY: Who's this?
ME: Um, you're answering my boyfriend's phone, who is this?
GUY: I'm a police officer.
ME: What happened? Is Jim okay?
COP: He's laying in the middle of the street.

The cop told me where they were. I can't run, but I ran. I didn't know where to go once I got to "A" and Lehigh, and wound up going two blocks too far. I called Jim's phone and when the cop answered, I told him where I was and that I was lost. He told me to walk back. When I got to "A" Street, he began to click his flashlight on and off. I ran up. Jim had woken up. I had a long conversation with the police officers (there were four of them). They told me that they had found him passed out, laying in the middle of the street. They asked if I knew what he was on. I told them that he was drunk and shot up. He was awake and I punched him. The cops let me take him home. We walked towards to bus stop, with me having to hold him up. He spent the whole time on the bus nodding out and drooling. I was so embarrassed. We were only on the bus for less than five minutes but it felt more like an hour. He was so messed up, he had to call out of work the next day. This was the month his nightly escapades at the bar started.

In September, we spent a weekend out of the city. We drove to Hamburg, PA and went camping. He was sick but tried to get through it with his Suboxone. We had gotten a case of beer. He drank a few, I only had one or two. After we came home, he went to the bar. It was the same thing every time. He got done work, went to the bar, got high, we fought. It was like this up until December.

In November, I found out I was pregnant again. It still didn't stop him from going to the bar mostly every night. It was always the same thing: work, bar, high, fight. Right before Thanksgiving, I started to work at the restaurant again.

My nephew's birthday is on December 17th. I couldn't go to his birthday party because I had work that day. Jim and I spent some time together and we had sex. When we were finished, there was blood...a lot of blood. It was from me. I knew what was happening - I was having another miscarriage. I called out of work and we went to the hospital. The miscarriage happened while we were in the waiting room.

After that, I was pretty withdrawn and depressed. I didn't know how to get through it again. I spent a month in a stupor. I smoked a lot. On January 21st, 2012, I was with Jim while he was shooting up. I watched as he did it. After he was done, I told him I wanted some. He asked if I was sure and I said yes.

He got everything out to prepare the shot. I told him I didn't want to do a whole bag because I didn't want to OD and I didn't want to get hooked on it; I just wanted to try it the one time. So he only prepared half a bag. He opened a new needle. He shot me up for the first time.