Crystal Lies - Melody Carlson [121]
“He was,” Marcus says. “But you have to understand that this happens. The addict is doing just fine, and then something happens that acts like a trigger. Usually it’s something stressful, although I’ve heard all sorts of excuses. I remember this woman who had been clean for nearly a year. She told me how she was out shopping for a pair of shoes for her sister’s wedding when she just happened to find a bag of meth sitting on a bench in the mall. And, well, she was feeling so stressed about not finding the right shoes that she just decided to get high. Does that make any sense to you?”
“No.” It’s almost funny. “She found a bag of meth?”
He laughs. “That’s what she said. And, you’re right, it makes absolutely no sense to us. But to an addict, especially early on during rehab, its always a daily thing. They’re constantly asking themselves, will I get high today or will I stay clean? And, believe me, any excuse is a good excuse if they have decided that they’re going to get high. Really, I’ve heard them all.”
“But what do we do now?”
“We don’t do anything. It’s up to Jacob.”
“I know, I know…” Sometimes I get so sick of all this codependent talk. “But he’s staying here in my apartment,” I remind Marcus. “I feel I have some responsibility or authority. Shouldn’t I say anything?”
“You can remind him to call his mentor. Or he can talk to me if he wants.”
“What if he doesn’t want to?”
I hear him sigh and know exactly what he is thinking.
“I’m sorry, Marcus,” I say. “I already know the answers to these questions, don’t I?”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t make it any easier, does it?”
The kindness in his voice only brings more tears to the surface. “Thanks,” I tell him. “I don’t know how I would’ve survived all this without you.”
Jacob does call his mentor the next day. And he attends an NA meeting that night and three more the following week. But then he blows it again. Of course, he is very contrite and sorry afterward and promises me that it’s the last time he’ll mess up like that. But it’s not. And back and forth he goes until I must finally tell him he has to either stay clean or move out of my apartment, which I’ve already given notice on anyway. This is despite the fact that I have no place to move to. But Jacob seems to flounder like this for about a month until he finally comes to me and tells me that he thinks he needs to go back to Hope’s Wings for inpatient treatment again.
“This time I want to do it for me,” he tells me. “I think I did it to avoid that whole thing with Dad last time. And even though I appreciated getting clean, I was kind of resentful about a lot of stuff.”
Well, I honestly don’t care what his reason for succeeding or not succeeding is; I only want him to get whatever kind of help he needs and quickly. Jake calls Marcus that same day and is accepted back into the inpatient program starting in early March. In the meantime, it seems that he is staying clean and working his program. But I can’t be certain. Mostly I am relieved when March 5 rolls around and it’s time to take him back in. He seems quiet and sad as we drive over, but it’s not like the last time, not like he is unhappy to be going into rehab. It’s more as if he regrets blowing it.
As I get back into my car, I try to assure myself that this is a normal step in Jake’s recovery, that it’s a good thing he wants more help. Even so, I feel anything but hopeful as I drive away And after a few minutes my eyes are so blurry from tears that I am forced to pull over.
I get out of my car and slam the door. I want to yell at God, to shake my fist at the sky and to blame him for what seems to be this continual and never-ending mess in my life. But suddenly I am aware of the unexpected spring sunshine that’s warming my head. And I see the bright green of fresh grass and notice that tulips and daffodils are blooming and the delicate pink buds on the plum trees are just starting to open. And I realize that no one can be angry with God on a day like