Monday, August 22, 2016

Monday Memories #19

My life was getting straightened out, I still had no idea where my so called husband was and didn't care, life was good...until I met a man who had been hit over the head, the girls brought him to me to fix him up...

A couple of days later the girls next store came knocking at my door. I was a few years older than they were, they treated me like a big sister. My mother had my daughter over the weekend already.

Looking frantic they told me there was a man that had knocked at their door, his head was cut and bleeding could I help? Of course, I could so I went over to see what was wrong.

He was a pretty good looking guy but his head was cut pretty good so I got my peroxide dabbing at it until it stopped bleeding. He claimed he had been attacked by a couple of strangers, I had no choice but to believe him.

That was the year I was introduced to crystal meth. He would come over to visit, one day leaving a vial of white powder on my kitchen counter where I cleaned up all around it, I didn't even know what it was.

I would watch him snort a line or two when he was over on the weekends I was by myself and one day I got curious and tried it. That's what they do men like that, "here try this", get you liking it until your helping to buy it also.

The biggest seller was the fact I wasn't hungry so not eating I was losing weight. The difference between us was, he wanted it constantly and I could take it or leave it. It was like I had two lives, one as a crystal snorting party girl on the weekends and a normal mother during the week.

That year I learned a lot about the undercurrent of my hometown. The people who did the drug, the people who did the drug and wanted to quit, the dealers, they all were normal everyday people who worked or dealt not working, all with one thing in common...crystal meth.

I now weighed 101lbs. thinking I looked great but this guy was like a slimy booger you couldn't shake off. He was of the type once he had you he used intimidation, manipulating me to doing what he wanted. He would always be sorry after finding some excuse why he had been such a bastard, I'd forgive him until one day I had enough.


I went to my mother explaining what had happened, why I had lost so much weight, how I couldn't get this asshole out of my life, she leaped into action calling a shelter in the next town, bringing me there. I was free at last... so I thought...

Continued on next Monday...

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