03/16/2021

**Trigger Warning**

They were late. The house manager and director of Shenandoah Valley Adult/Teen Challenge were supposed to arrive around 4 pm that Friday night and they were late. Maybe they couldn’t find the apartment building that was stuck between the huge colonial era houses. If they got lost, maybe they’d decide to just keep on going and leave me there in the misery I had created. Maybe this whole program was bogus, and I had given my real address to people who were going to steal my identity. Boy, would they be surprised to find out I was a nothing–a nobody–if they tried.  

Ethan* and Trent* sat at the little round table which held all of our paraphernalia in neatly organized containers that looked completely benign to the naked eye. An ignorant sort would never guess that there were baggies of meth, pipes, pills, needles and syringes, razor blades, Q-tips, a spoon, and rubbing alcohol tucked away in their respective compartments. Pieces of Trent’s tattoo gun were spread across the table while he meticulously examined each segment in his tweaked-out state. And Ethan sat staring blankly at the wall with a lit cigarette between his fingers, ashes growing 2 inches long before they fell in what seemed like slow motion to the hardwood floor. He was in charge of guarding the containers and a handle of Mr. Boston Rum. 

As I lay on the couch, half in and out of consciousness, I surveyed the scene and thought to myself, If these people come, I won’t miss anything but Dude. Dude was my sweet pit bull, rescued just a month earlier from the local shelter. He loved life. I can remember wishing that I could be as carefree and innocent about the world as he was. With my arms wrapped tighter than necessary around my ‘emotional support animal’, I nuzzled my face into his neck and closed my eyes one more time. 

Not thirty seconds later, there was a knock on my apartment door. My heart skipped a beat and then began a gallop so wild I almost couldn’t breathe. With my eyes closed, I heard Ethan hop off the chair in immediate response, felt him shake my shoulder, and heard him say, ‘Amanda, they’re here!’ I feigned sleep as best I could with my heart pounding so fast and so hard. Soon after, I heard him answer the door and a woman’s voice ask ‘Is Amanda here?’ 

I didn’t realize it until I heard Ethan once again say my name to wake me up from my fake sleep, but tears were streaming down my face and into the soft fur of my perfect Dude. I slowly lifted my head and fixed my eyes on the two women standing side by side in the doorway of my living room. They introduced themselves as Erin–the women’s house manager–and Novella–the SVTC program director. My instinctive response was, “Good to meet you.” But it wasn’t good to meet them. The fact that they were even standing there, and the reason why left me feeling defeat at a level I had never experienced before. It signified the end of the life I was sitting in, and in my intoxicated state in that moment, it signified the end of my life altogether. So it was NOT good to meet them…at ALL. 

Mrs. Novella asked me quite frankly, ‘Are you ready?’ This only provoked more tears and before I answered her very heavy question, I looked down at Dude. Once again and just for a moment, I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his neck letting my tears flow freely.  

From the living room doorway, I heard the woman who introduced herself as Erin speak up and say, ‘I know it’s hard, but it will be worth it.’ With that, a sigh of resignation escaped my body. I squeezed Dude one last time and planted approximately 30 kisses to the side of his innocent face, wearily stood up as I wiped my tears, and slowly went for my bags. Bags I had packed for a year-long stay God knows where. 

Ethan and Trent jumped into action to help, and we all followed Mrs. Novella and Erin out the door and up the hill to the street where the van was parked. The few belongings I had fit perfectly in the back, and Erin closed the door quickly as if to not give me a chance to pull it all back out. 

I must pause here and point out that this whole encounter took maybe 10 minutes but it felt like a lifetime. I look back and remember thinking that Ethan would beg me to stay and, out of what I thought was love for him, I would decide to. I waited for something like that to happen and it never did. Once my bags were in the rear of the vehicle, I think I finally resigned myself to this decided fate. I was leaving Ethan and Dude for a whole year. I couldn’t talk to or see them. I was being whisked away to where? I didn’t know. And no one begged me not to go. 

After tearful hugs from Ethan and Trent and one last kiss from Ethan, I finally made myself get into the van that would take me away from the life I had known for over a year. As we drove away, I turned around in my seat and watched Ethan standing in the street until I couldn’t see him anymore. He defined the part of my life that I was now leaving behind. 

I cried until I thought I had no tears left and then there were more. I was scared. I felt so utterly alone. In my heart I knew that this was a last resort and, if I’m honest, I didn’t want it. I wanted to be able to do it on my own. I wanted the satisfaction of knowing that, yes, I was broken but I was capable of rebuilding my life all by myself. I wanted to be stronger…but I just wasn’t. In my own flesh, I was as weak as they come. 

That was 600 days ago.

Six hundred days ago I put the last toxic needle into my arm and drank my last shot of Mr. Boston rum, said goodbye to my faithful fur baby, Dude, and kissed Ethan for the last time. Six hundred days ago I came to the end of myself and surrendered to a faith based rehabilitation program of which I knew nothing about and met 2 women who ventured down into the pit of my addiction and pulled me out. Six hundred days ago I began a journey that has proven to be both miserably ugly and unabashedly beautiful. Six hundred days ago I said yes to life. 

Today I am 600 days clean and sober. Today is beautiful.

*Names have been changed.

**Check out my home page for addiction recovery resources, including but not limited to: Shenandoah Valley Adult/Teen Challenge.