Addicted
Slightly423psychotic
I own nothing but guitar picks and my baby guitar. Oh and the shiny penny sitting next to me. I do not own Gilmore Girls, nor am I affiliated with them at all.
T – PG13
WARNING: MAJOR REFERENCES TO DRUGS AND SEXUAL CONTENT.
Thank you to Kiki for betaing this for me! HUGS
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It started when I was 15. It was the summer before sophomore year, and my boyfriend then, Dean, introduced me to the wonders of alcohol. Later that year, when I started Chilton, I found alcohol to be my best friend. My perfect image was slowly being ruined and I couldn't give a shit. I felt good, and I knew what I was doing. Or so I thought.
My mom has always been an active part of my life, and she was even happy when I started to drink some. She was glad that I was finally going through 'normal teenage' stages. When I look into her eyes now though, I see the disappointment, concern, and hopelessness.
It's gotten so bad, that my school wont allow me to come back until I clean up my act. I don't tell anyone, but I don't see myself being able to 'clean up my act' as soon as they want. I'm not strong, it's the reason I chose alcohol. It's strong for me.
"Earth to Rory!" I turn my head. Sara is biting her lip.
"What?"
"Diana wants to shut the door." I look. Everyone has filed into the room. Only Sara and I remain outside. I nod and follow her into the room. Today is my sixth time in three weeks and today there is a face I don't recognize, but I seem to be the only one thinking this. People have been giving him short nods and sympathetic looks. Diana, she's the group director, starts out as always.
"Welcome back, everyone." Everyone nods. "Who would like to start off today?" A man I recognize as Smith raises his hand slowly. Diana nods in his direction.
"I'm Smith, and I've been doing pot since I was 14. In my attempts to let go, I started snorting coke. This morning was my last time. My wife had her baby over the weekend. I wish I could be there more for her, ya know? I mean, she's doing her best to help me, but sometimes…I just…look at her, and I can tell that if she'd of known I'd be like this, then she would've called it quits a long time ago."
"Oh, Smith. That's not true. She's trying to be strong for you. And you already had many of these habits before you two got married. I'm sure she thought that she could help you through this. Just let her. Keep strong. Especially now that you have a baby. Pehaps you can try and get some natural highs from playing with your new baby instead of marijuana or cocaine. How about you try that, okay?" He nods. "Report back to me next week?" He nods again.
"Alright, who's next?" A boy I recognized as Ricket spoke up.
"I'm a crack cocaine baby, and it's been 4 months and 5 days since my last hit." The group gives a small applause. The boys face grows somber. "My father is in the hospital. He was high and was driving. He ran off the road into a fender on the highway. The car is totaled."
"Do you know how he's doing?"
"No, I haven't gone to the hospital yet, and I don't plan too. I'm here mostly with people 10 years older than me, and he's three times my age. I want to get better, but…I…need my dad. Ya know?"
"I think you need to be strong for your father, Ricket."
"No, screw that! I'm tired of living a lie. He will never get better! Me, however…I'm trying to learn. I can't see him or everything will be shot to hell." I watched him with interested eyes. I only wished I were as strong as him, I only wish I could admit it too.
"Ricket, I understand how you're feeling, okay? And if you need time before you see him, that would be okay. You aren't required to see him. Take your time, honey. We're all here for you, okay? Don't forget." Diana said. He nodded. My turn was next.
"I'm Rory, and I'm an alcoholic. My last drink was yesterday afternoon. I passed out. My school called my house yesterday, to see how I was doing. My mom wasn't home, so I answered. I was wasted. I think they got their answer. I wish I were stronger, and I wish I didn't see disappointment in my mom's eyes. I wish…for everything to go back to the way they were."
Diana prompted me, "And how were they before?"
"Good. Nice, dare I say. It's funny how the one thing that's probably sent my addiction into overdrive is the one thing that's discriminating against me for it." I look to my left, and Sara starts.
"Sara here, I have been doing 'shrooms and methyl amphetamines since I was 13. I've been having a lot of thoughts over the abortion I had. I'm so pro-life it's not even funny which is why I have a guilty conscience. I just…" Sara shifts. I watch. We haven't gotten much closer, but I get ice cream with them after every meeting. This time, however, Tristan is not in sight. "if my mother was here…just a glimpse, I think she'd re-kill herself. I'm on the exact road as my mom, and I don't…I cant have that happen. My brother needs me, as I need him." She wiped the lid of her eye on her sweatshirt. I've never seen her in anything less than a bulky sweatshirt.
"You know what, Sara?"
"No."
"You'll turn out fine. You're here. Your mother didn't seek help." Sara eyes widened and she shook her head quickly.
"She was in therapy and groups and rehabs for 9 and a half years before she killed herself. Somehow I think I'm the same as her." Diana nods, sadly.
"Well, Sara, you know the drill. You know I can't make any promises to you, but I'm here, you have all of my numbers. I can only help you, I can't make you." Sara nodded. Another half an hour passed before we were dismissed. I got up and started to walk towards the door. Sara caught up to me.
"Hey."
"Hi." I said, turning to her. "Where's your brother?"
"I don't know. Probably fucking some girl." I gave a surprised look.
"He missed meeting though."
"He doesn't care. He'd be happy if he died from an overdose. He just does it for me. Goes to the meetings, that is." I nodded, frowning.
"Do you still wanna get some ice cream?" I asked her. She nodded. I was starting to favor it. It kept me clean. Kept me satisfied. For a few hours at least. We started to walk slowly.
"I didn't know your mother passed away." I said softly. She nodded.
"Yea, it's been my two brothers and I for the past 8 years."
"Oh, you have another brother?"
"Yea, Tristan and then an older brother, who's 23. His name is Greg."
"Is he umm, is he a—"
"Druggie?"
I let out a breath, "Yea."
"He used to be really involved with pot and shit like that, but nothing major. He was 15 when our mom died and he went to boarding school, so it wasn't like he was around it often." Sara said.
"What about you? You live with both of your parents?"
"Oh, just my mom," I started. "My mom had me when she was 16, so she was raising me as she raised herself. My dad hasn't been in the picture much at all. I don't see or her from him often. I hear more from him now though, since my mom isn't able to control me."
"It must be nice, though. To have a mom so young that she understands."
"I wouldn't take it that far. We're not okay." I said softly. Sara nodded in agreement. She wasn't like any other friends. She understood everything-and if she didn't, she didn't ask questions. And that's the exact way I wanted it.
A/N: It's on the shorter side, yes. Sorry for the wait. Major 10 page paper for history due Monday. Hope you all enjoyed it, and Tristan will be in the next chapter, as long as someone else who you've probably been wanting to see. Not sure. Anyway, review please! Love, Emilie.