by E. McNew
Only a few days after I was released from jail, I was sitting at home watching TV when I got a phone call. It was the County Jail. They had finally caught Derrick, and he was arrested and being charged with three felonies. I also got a call from Derrick after he was in jail. "I just wanted to let you know that they arrested me, and I don't know how long I'm going to be here. I got tired of hiding, so I guess I'm kind of glad that I'm just getting it over with." He regained a little bit of my respect because he was showing some willingness to take responsibility for this. Tears fell down my cheeks. "I love you, and as soon as I can, I’ll put money on your books. Try to hang in there, and when I get the car I'll come and visit you." Somehow, our car ended up with the old man that was friends with our neighbor and his name was Lowell. I didn't know how to say his name right, so I just called him Lolo. I sent Aaron a text message asking if he could have Lolo drop the car off. Within a few days, the ugly burgundy car was back in my driveway. I had decided that I was going to try my very best to stay away from drugs, and see what I could do to support myself.
Less than a week after getting out of jail, I realized that I needed to get a job as soon as possible. Since the whole town thought nothing of me anyway, I went straight to McDonald's. When I walked in, I saw one of the girls that I was in jail with while I was pregnant working behind the counter. She smiled and asked me what I wanted to eat. I told her that I was actually looking for a job, and I needed to start working right away. Her eyes lit up with excitement, and she went back to get the manager. He hired me on the spot, issued my uniform shirts, and I was going to start that same night. I was embarrassed that I was going to be working there, but it was a lot better than sitting in jail or going without food. I called my mom to tell her. I was curious to see what the reaction was going to be. "Aww, good job. Lizzie! Most people wouldn't do what you did today, and I'm very proud of you. A job is a job, and you are doing what you need to do." Her reaction gave me a little bit more confidence, and I went to work that night feeling a little less ashamed. I was lucky that the manager was there full-time. When I got home every night, I was pretty tired, but I felt like I was doing the right thing. Everything was going okay until I agreed to give my jail buddy a ride home after work. Instead of taking her home, we stopped at one of her friend’s houses, only to get a sack of meth and start the self-destruction all over again. I just could not say no.
Chapter 72
I went to the jail to visit Derrick as often as they would let me. He seemed to be hanging in there pretty well. The District Attorney's office was trying to charge him with two strikes. In the State of California, if a person gets three strikes he or she is subject to a minimum of twenty-five to life. Derrick was sticking to his guns and not talking to the detectives. Apparently Donnie was trying to put most of the blame on Derrick for the assaults that took place at night. Donnie was just as guilty as Derrick. As far as the case with the baby, I hadn't heard any more news. I quickly gave up that they would solve it at all. If they couldn't solve the case with my daughter, I had no reason to believe that they could solve this one. The baby never ended up having a funeral. The family was too broke, and his body was in the custody of the State for so long, that they just decided to cremate him. I spoke with Derrick. Derrick’s parents called occasionally, and his mother and I emailed him every day. I told her about my job, and she was updated with everything that was going on. She sent me pictures of Danielle. When I thought about leaving Derrick, I felt extreme conflict. This was only because we had a child together. It was one thing for me to leave. Derrick, but it was a total other thing to completely disregard Danielle. I knew that somehow I had to at least try to be with her. I didn't know how it would happen, but I had to try.
I got high with my friend from jail every day for the next week. I was surprised to learn that I actually liked my job. It was easy, and they switched my job to meet up with my tasks enough to where it didn’t get too boring. At this point, my mom was calling me almost on a daily basis. I think that she was worried about me because she knew that I was by myself and she knew about my neighbor. I decided to take the brutally honest approach with her too. I knew that the only way to really help myself was to be honest with everyone else, and in turn I would be forced to be honest with myself. On my night off from work, the old man Lolo came over. We were bored, and he had meth. When my mom called, I went into the back room to talk to her. I was feeling guilty, exhausted and out of ideas, so I told her that I had been high for the last week. "Well, why can't you just get away from it?" she asked, not completely understanding how addiction to this particular drug manifests. "It's just not that easy. It is everywhere, no matter where I go. My neighbor has it, my neighbor's friend has it, and people at work have it. People are always stopping by here when they have it and they know that I won't say no," I confessed. "Liz, that's dangerous. You could end up dead. Those people are dangerous and unpredictable. What are you going to do?" "I don't know but all I can do is work. I don't know how to get away from it because it's everywhere. And if I know that someone has it and it's offered to me, I can't say no. It's a physical and mental addiction."
She started to understand a little bit better. "Well can't I just come and get you out of there?" she asked, and I knew that this could be my only chance to really get out. She hadn't asked me this question in a while, so I knew that when she did she was serious. "If it's okay with you guys, then yes. I don't know how to get away from this, and I think that if I just leave, it might be my only chance." "Okay, Lizzy, have your stuff packed and be ready to go early in the morning. I'm probably going to leave here around 5:00 a.m." "I'll be ready. Just call me when you are a few minutes away. Love you." We got off the phone. I walked out of the back room, and Lolo was in the kitchen, crafting up some gourmet spaghetti dinner. I don't even know where he got the ingredients, because I barely had any food. He sure was creative, though. I guess he had to learn how to improvise over the years, because from what I had heard him say to Derrick, it sounded like he was living this lifestyle for over twenty years now.
The last night that I spent in Tahoe, with Tahoe being my official place of residence, was a night that I probably won't ever forget. Lobo was actually an interesting person who had once lived a very interesting life. He told me stories about his younger years and how quickly his success turned into nothing. "You should have seen me back then," he laughed. "I had the 70’s Afro, I already had a house paid for, and I had a beautiful wife and a little girl." "Then, I started using drugs, and I just liked it way too much. I spent all of the money that we had saved up, and we lost everything. Of course, my wife was furious, and she ended up taking my daughter and leaving. I've tried to see her over the years but haven’t been able to. Her name is Rihanna. I would do anything to see her again." This got me thinking. With all of my obsessive research I had done over the last few years, I wondered if I could find his daughter online. After doing some research for only a few minutes, I pulled up a profile picture of a woman who fit her description. I showed the picture to Lolo, and he was convinced that it was Rihanna. I sent her a Facebook message and explained who I was and why I was contacting her. I gave her Lolo's phone number and told her that he was trying to get in touch with her. Lolo took off to find more drugs, and I let him take my car. I knew that I wasn't going to need it because I wasn't going to take it to my mom's house. In the back of my mind, I knew that he wasn't going to come back in time to say goodbye.
It was already 4:00 in the morning, and the only thing I had left to do was pack and shower. My mom called me around 6:00 a.m. to tell me that she was a few minutes away. I didn't know how I was going to stay awake because I was starting to get tired. I was going to end it. I was ready to say goodbye to crystal meth. I took one last residual hit out of the empty glass pipe, and I smashed and broke it in the toilet. I flushed the remnants of the broken pipe down the drain, and I thought about how much I had lost over the drug. I can't honestly say that I let this drug into my life willingly. I
t snuck into my life as I was trying to find my own identity. I caved to the peer pressure by experimenting with cocaine. My heart knew that it wasn't right, and I ignored the warnings of my subconscious. The first time I ever used drugs, I thought that I was snorting cocaine. I ingested methamphetamine in extremely large quantities. Even as a recreational cocaine user, I still knew that I never, ever wanted to try meth. That was one drug that I was not willing to experiment with. I had heard the horror stories and I had seen the before and after pictures. It was never going to be a part of my life. When it suddenly invaded my body without me even having a chance to contest, it was over. While it was normal to everyone else, it was trash to me. I had allowed trash into my life and eventually that's what I had become. I lost my self-worth, my sanity, my values, my family, and most tragically, my babies. Even years after losing them, it still cuts like a knife to say that to myself. It was still extremely difficult to grasp the fact that they were no longer with me. It was unbearable. I looked at myself in the mirror, and I didn't know who I was looking at. I wasn't that young, confident mom and full-time student. I wasn't that young married woman happily taking care of her family. I wasn't that girl getting ready for her senior project. I wasn't the teenager who was in love with the idea of being in love. I wasn't the girl who spent her entire summer vacation locked up in her bedroom obsessively reading the novels that she couldn't get enough of. I wasn't the aspiring musician who would spend hours teaching herself how to play songs on the piano. I wasn't the little kid getting ready for her first cheerleading competition. I wasn't the twin who was beating up her other twin in fifth grade. I wasn't the five-year-old little girl running around and screaming in excitement because she got a baby alive doll for Christmas.
I didn't know who I was. I didn't know who I was supposed to be. My babies had given me the unexpected gift of preserving and prolonging my own childhood. Although I was their mother, I was still able to live and enjoy everything about being young and innocent. I still had an excuse to buy Barbie dolls. I had a reason to watch Charlotte's Web again. Some would believe that my childhood was taken away when I became pregnant. My beliefs are much different. My happiness and childhood was given back to me when my babies came into my life. My true childhood, those years that I most vividly recall as a young person, were ripped from me when my little girls went away. That was when I lost my childhood. That was when I lost my innocence. That was when I lost my young heart and bright future. It would take a long, long time and a miracle to ever recover from the painful damage caused by methamphetamine. My post-traumatic-stress disorder hadn't even begun.
“How are you Lizzie?” my mom asked as she walked in to help me put my bags in the trunk. “I’m ok, just tired,” I replied. She hugged me. “I’m so glad that I get to take care of you. I get my Lizzie back!” she said, patting my head. I wasn’t sure how she was going to get me back when I couldn’t even get myself back, but if anyone could do it, it would be my mom.
Chapter 73
I took one last look at the home that I had grown up in over the last twenty-two years as we passed through the small town and headed toward the summit. I hated this summit. It gave me flashbacks of driving to the hospital in Sacramento four years earlier. I was always going back to that dark, snowy night when chain control notified me of an Amber Alert. I had a memory of every little part of this town. Some were good, some were bad, but most were sad. I once thought that I would spend the rest of my life here. I never thought that this beautiful place could turn so ugly. As we drove up the snowy summit, I felt relief. I wasn't sad to be leaving, and I knew that this was goodbye. My mom and I stopped at a Starbucks on the way to her house. She lived about two hours away in a little town called Grass Valley.
When we finally got to her house, it was around noon. I was in a daze and starting to come down. She made us lunch, and my stepdad began to question me. I expected that I might have an interrogation coming. He knew that I had been using drugs, but he didn't know exactly what. When I told him, he shook his head, "Oh no, Liz." I was about as honest with him as I was with my mom. "Well, tell me the truth, did you bring any of that stuff to my house?" "No, I got rid of all of it before I left. I flushed it down the toilet. I promise that I won’t ever bring it to your house." He believed me. After eating lunch, and it was probably the healthy food I had eaten in a long time, I went back to the bedroom that I was going to be staying in and fell asleep immediately. The next thing I remember was my mom was sitting on my bed and rubbing my head, "Liz, it's okay. Wake up. Its just mom." I turned over and looked at her completely confused. I forgot that I was even there. "What's going on?" I asked her, totally confused. "Are you okay? I came to wake you up because dinner is ready, and you were fighting me while you were tangled in your blanket." "Oh, I'm sorry. I don't remember anything." In a daze, I walked out to the living room where dinner was on the table, and we sat down and ate. We talked about me finding a job as soon as I could, and I also remembered that I needed to request my last paycheck from McDonald's. I started to feel better in a few days, and I was slowly getting back to normal.
I wasn't familiar with any local clinics, and I was about to run out of my antidepressant. Because I was away from the horrible circumstances that I was living in, I thought that I would just wean myself off the antidepressant and see if I could be okay without them. I was tired for the first week that I didn't have my medication, but I quickly regained my energy. I was eating better, and my mom helped me find a church to go to. We went on Sundays and there was also a weekly meeting for people in recovery. I tried to go to the local NA meetings, but I really didn't feel comfortable, and I didn't feel like I fit in. I didn't know any of the people, and unlike the familiar group from Tahoe, it didn't seem that many of these people had very much sobriety time. One thing that I liked about the church meetings was that they always had a contemporary Christian rock band playing. Music always put me into a meditative state, and it was a good place for me to go to find forgiveness and think about my life. The more that I socialized with the real world, the less I thought about it. I didn't know what to do about it, but the thought of never seeing Danielle again broke my heart. Derrick was still in jail, so I still had time to think about my options. I was still out on bail for the accessory to a felony charge that was brought against me. I had a Court date in about four months that would determine if I was guilty or innocent. I had plenty of time to reflect on the last four years of my life and I became angry. Being around my mom and my grandparents helped me feel like myself again. I was angry that I lost myself for so long, and most important, I was angry that I didn't have my children with me.
I eventually got a job at the local convenience store. I could hardly understand the owners, but they were nice enough to hire me. After realizing that this job didn't have enough hours for what I needed, I applied for a job at the Holiday Inn. The only openings they had were for housekeeping. It paid $9 an hour and it was full-time. I didn't like the fact that I had to get up early for the job, but I knew that I was an expert at cleaning so I would probably do well. The more I worked, the more my self-esteem came back. I started to realize what I did and didn't want for my life. I went online and printed the forms that I would need to file for a divorce. I drove to Tahoe with my mom and determined that I would serve the papers during a visit with Derrick. I didn't know for sure if I was going to follow through with it, but I did want him to know that I was serious about life. His mother had been emailing me constantly, and I felt like she was being incredibly nosy. Eventually, I just had to stop responding. I needed time to think about what I really wanted. I couldn't picture myself staying with Derrick and ever being truly happy. He would just be a reminder of everything that I didn't have.
When he saw me behind the glass, his eyes lit up. He wasn't expecting me. I probably looked different and healthier and happier. When I first moved to Grass Valley, one of the first things that my mom did was take me to the local chocolate factory. Then she took me to her hairst
ylist and we both had our hair done. If she was trying to boost my self-confidence, she did a good job. "Look at you, all pretty and spoiled," Derrick said. "Well, it was useless for me to sit around here," I replied, feeling kind of nervous. We talked about the case, about Danielle, and about how much longer he thought he would be in jail. He wasn't sure, but it wasn't looking very good. "So I have to give you these papers. Don't get mad and don't freak out. I just want you to know that I'm serious about staying clean and not getting in trouble. I slid the papers on the glass. He took them, and stared at them. He was in shock. "I... I just don't understand. What are you doing?" "I just told you, I simply don’t want to handle any pain any more." "I know you can't. Everything will be fine once we get to Texas." He wasn't really willing to accept what I had just sent his way. I couldn't blame him since he was sitting in jail. I was happy that at least I knew that I had options. We made the drive back home, and after dinner, I sat in my room crying. I was thinking about Derrick and how lonely he must be. I suddenly started to miss him again. I didn't know what to do, so I wrote him a letter. I told him how much I loved him and that I was just so tired of all the defeat. I told him that I wanted him to get better, and that I was trying to get better at my mom's house. I sealed the envelope and I put it in the mailbox before anyone could see.
After I started my job, I started to clash with my stepdad. I was in his way and he was in my way. I went into a full-blown panic attack and determined that I had to go back to Tahoe. I threw a complete fit until my mom finally caved in and drove me to Tahoe. She dropped me off with my older sister, Lilah, because I didn't really have anywhere else to go. My sister had to work that day, so I decided to go to my old house to see what was left. As I walked in, it looked like there were squatters living there. There were old smelly blankets all over the place, and the entire house completely stunk. This was definitely not the house that I remember. Or was it? Was I really living like this? I felt contaminated from just standing there. And I was worried that some people might show up. I couldn't find any of my things, so I decided that I would return to the house the next day when my mom picked me up. I was only in Tahoe for less than a day, and I already wanted to leave again. I probably just had to go there to see for myself that it would really never be my home again. My visit with Derrick gave me the closure that I needed. I didn't know what kind of closure I was even looking for, but I knew that I didn't want to spend my life visiting my husband in jail. It was no way for either of us to live. I told Derrick that I would see him the next day before I left to go back to Grass Valley and I intended to. But after leaving the jail, and realizing that it made me feel anxious, I decided not to return.