Love Made Me Do It

by Tamekia Nicole

  Unnecessary stress could cause demise in my efforts at doing things the right way. Red flags immediately were raised when I met who they brought in. Trying my best not to be judgmental I welcomed the new manager with open arms. Showed him the ropes and educated him on our products and what our goals were. We hired a few new people together. One of my new hires was his brother’s daughter in law.

  Under new management, with a “family member” in my department, I expected every day to be a cake walk. To some extent those minor changes made my stressful work days, much easier. I had someone to complain too and gossip with. My new manager was definitely on drugs, but as long as I did not let the effect my work performance I didn’t care. I was there to work and get paid. I was not there to babysit or save the world. I was still trying to save myself and I was still so far away from that.

  My rehab program taught me. That the first five years of becoming clean you must be selfish. You must change your people, places and things, if you wanted to successfully go from user to quitter. I lived by those words and still do. When it became too much to handle, I confided in the owner and let her know my concerns. She assured me that I was wrong, and I left it at that.

  Meanwhile I was noticing a change in my lover. I began having thoughts that he was once again cheating. So I began investigating. Since, we were not in the same household, except for on weekends. I started my investigations with our phone records. I was the main name on the account I had access to our records online. So one day on my lunch break, I looked at all his incoming and outgoing calls. There was a trend of bay area phone numbers. That I knew were not numbers of family members, so I dialed the ones that I saw the most.

  My suspicions were right on the money. Tons of girls had been made tons of empty promises by my lover. This whole situation was running into the ground, just when I thought that things were getting better and we were conquering our demons…I was proved wrong. The stories I heard from these women shattered me. But honestly I was not surprised. Disappointed but not surprised.

  It was Friday and my lover would be arriving shortly to pick me up. That is when I would show him his phone bill; I had highlighted all the suspicious calls and the call duration. I was curious to see how he would get out of this. I rode all the way to his house, like I had no issues. But I was boiling over inside.

  When we got all settled in comfy and cozy I reached into my purse and pulled out exhibit A, my evidence that he was still a liar and a cheater. He was speechless as he half-heartedly looked at those phone bills. There was no explanation but there was a resolution. We needed a break from each other. I told him to figure out if I had a place in his life. Then I called my coworker to come and get me. There was no way that I was staying that weekend. Or any other weekend until the dynamic of our relationship was in a consistent happy place.

  I carried on with my life. Work, rehab and piecing together relationships with family and friends that suffered because of my addiction. It was hard work, and for some reason I thought it would be easier than it actually was. I was a no show for everything. When my friends came to town, I made promises to meet them or excuses as to why I couldn’t be there. I wanted to be the person, that they remembered not the demons that consumed me. It was too complicated to explain over the phone. I would let me actions talk for me. Leaving him alone was my first step towards that goal.

  Drugs were everywhere around me. They were in my home, they were at the rehab, and sometimes I seen people lighting crack pipes at the bus stop when I was on my way to work. It was like the more I tried to focus. The more vulnerable I became. I wanted to say and believe that life wasn’t fair. But my results were in direct correlation with my previous actions.

  Work was okay. I had my in-law as my right hand man and that made work bearable. My new manager was getting stranger by the day. He was weird and paranoid. I watched him like a hawk when it was slow. He looked out of the blinds for no reason. Sweated profusely and was always confused. Tell-tale signs of a drug problem. Then one day right before a staff meeting. A back of cocaine fell out of his slack pocket. I knew it.

  I had no idea what to do with this information so I just waited and continued to watch him. Then just as I knew it would. The tables turned on me. I learned that when others consider you to be a threat they also watch, wait, and plot on you. He may have been on drugs but he was no dummy.

  Much like sand in an hour glass, my time on top was coming to an end. I was too much of a threat. I was smart and since my brain was clouded by drugs. I was on my A game and everyone knew it.

  Every night I came home exhausted, frustrated and running out of ways to keep my mind from wondering to the depths of Hell. My roommate decided that her boyfriend should come and stay with us. Right then I knew that this situation would also be short lived. A man can always come between friends. Especially if that man is no good, he was no good. He had no job and no ambition. His plan was to live off of her hustle.

  I was steadfast in my separation from my lover. We talked but when we did it was dry. There was no life left in our relationship because it was built on a foundation of lies and no trust. We failed at being in tune with the other person’s needs. I called out of habit and worry. It was a codependent situation. I never gave him enough breathing room to be a man and to show me something different. On this particular night, our phone call went way different then I could I could ever anticipate.

  My lover had been feeling sick with a migraine so our conversation was short. I suggested that he take medicine and go to bed early. He called me the next day and said that he was going to the hospital. That alarmed me. Men hated Dr.’s and hospitals. So I knew that it was serious. Later that evening his brother’s wife called and told me that my lover had suffered a massive heart attack. He was in an induced coma.

  My heart dropped out of my body and life as I knew it was upside down. My thoughts gravitated towards all our recent fighting and all the struggles that we had overcame. The thought of losing him made me drop to my knees. I went to work advised my manager of the situation. I spent the next three days by my lover’s side in Intensive ICU.

  Luckily he went to the hospital in time. Instead of cracking his chest open. They repaired his heart valves by going in through his groin. Three of his heart valves were clogged with Cocaine is exactly what the Dr. told me. I was shocked. All the lies about the other women and now come to find out…He was lying about being clean too. But no matter what I wanted him to get better. If I had to nurse him back to health I would. Drugs only caused death and destruction.

  Everything I could have ever dreamed of was already destroyed. I begged God not to bring death to my door step. Those three days were hard for me. It was hard to see him in such a helpless state. It was unbearable to see him in so much pain. I would have done anything to take that pain away from him.

  Upon his release he was given specific orders to rest, and not use. Those instructions fell on deaf ears after a few months. Although it’s not a valid reason or justification to use drugs, over stressed situations can push anyone over the edge. Soon I would be joining him my edge was closer than I thought.

  With him constantly on my mind, everything else began to fade to black. Even though, I was still clean and sober. My mind thought about just getting a little bit high. I wanted to ease the pain that my heart couldn’t manage on its own. I started watching my roommate very closely. Hoping to get a glimpse of where she kept her stash. One night she threw a party and while her, and her man where passed out. I ransacked the house looking for drugs. I crept in her room and looked thru her dresser drawers. When she moved I dropped to the floor and crawled out of there.

  I was turning back into who I was running from. The demons were calling me and I had no idea how I would silence their demands on me. I wanted God to end my life, but even he still had mercy on me. Living was agony, and I prayed that death would defeat me.

  CHAPTER 34

  ON THE RUN

  My stresses began to triple. M
y urges were uncontrollable. It had been just a few months since he had his heart attack. Getting high became the subject of conversation. Money in large amounts was always a burden for us. We were supposed to be having a date night, but as soon as drugs became the topic. He made a U-turn to go and cop drugs. Fuck.

  I wanted to get high but I didn’t want to be paranoid and think about the police or FBI kicking in our door. I didn’t want to see the imaginary man with the flashlight. The rehab program and his heart attack were the least of my concerns.

  I just wanted to get high and I would kill someone to make it happen, even if it was my self. When I lit that pipe, everything that was bad in my life was non-existent. Everything meaningful in my life took a back seat. Nothing and no one was more important.

  We went on a three day binge. I called in to work and skipped my rehab program for the day. I would deal with the repercussions later or not at all. It felt good to be high, similar to a first kiss. You’re nervous but you know with each hit, it gets 100 times better. I was seeking long term gratification from my on again love affair, with Crack.

  Life spiraled, downhill fast. As soon as, I touched that pipe, I granted access to my demons. I started to lose everything. My roommate situation was the first to deteriorate. I was in the last phase of the rehab program. I had learned different techniques to make sure my urine was clean when I was tested. I knew I was buying time and not solving the problem.

  Those techniques failed eventually…I came up dirty. My first dirty, in months. The judge cut me some slack, but advised me to report to my Probation Officer prior to returning to rehab. Too scared to report to my Probation Officer; I decided that I would never go back to the program.

  God didn’t take me going back on my promise and prayers to lightly. Life at work took a twisted turn for the worst as well. Work life was already strained since my new manager started. I felt as if I was going to be fired, and I was. Although my in-law that I hired managed to stay employed. I was shown the door and given my last check.

  I saw it coming and I had no one to blame but myself. The only thing I thought about was rationing my money. Until, I found something else. I thought about telling my lover and his reaction. In the past telling him I had lost a job never went well. Being called stupid and worthless would send me into a rage. But I had to tell him, so I did. Right after I told him. His brother asked me if he could borrow $800 to buy a new car.

  I was fuckin speechless. But none the less I was talked into loaning him the money. I never saw that money again, not even a portion of it. The next few days came and went it was almost like I was in a fog that wouldn’t lift. I stayed undressed and in his bed. Plagued by my own dumb decisions, it was hard to fathom that I was once again on the wrong side of the law and back on drugs.

  Dealing with it the best way I knew how, I masked the pain with Cocaine. My existence in the world shrank with every hit. Maybe if I smoked enough I would just disappear into thin air. The relationships that I had formed with a few people came to a cease and desist. I knew it would only be a matter of time before I would have to permanently take cover because of the felony warrant that was attached to my name. Rehab was my last shot, and I blew it.

  Days, nights and eventually weeks went by. I had barely moved, unless it was to look for a lighter. Somehow we were once again in the same household. I came over that night after I was fired and never left. The house we lived in was so crowded. Me, him, his mama, his brother, and the side chick and their new baby. In the midst of all the confusion there was yet another loss suffered.

  My sister in law, his brother’s wife, had been in a terrible car accident. Two of her children were in the car with them along with one of her daughter’s boyfriends, and a friend that had snuck out. On their way home from California, they hit a center divide. Everyone in the car died except for my sister in law. I was residing in chaos. They say that chaos breeds chaos.

  While, everyone was dealing with their own tragic circumstances, I was trying to get my job back. To no avail I was still unemployed. They denied my unemployment benefits. So on top of everything else I would not have any income coming in. This was good for my lover, because now I could go back to being his Bonnie. I didn’t want to be his Bonnie. My savings was dwindling down. His brother was ducking & dodging me. So, I had no choice.

  I emptied out my big purse to make room for stolen goods and we were back at it 3-5 times a week. It was no longer a game just to come up. It was a survival technique. His mama was on me daily about getting a job, but never once said anything to her son. It was all on me. Every morning when she came home from her graveyard shift, she knocked on our door handing me the classified section of the newspaper.

  Most of the time when she would be knocking at the door I had just fallen asleep. One morning I had plan on cussing her out because she was beating on the door so hard. When we didn’t answer she came thru our bathroom door. Only this time she wasn’t handing me a newspaper, she was advising us that she had seen our picture in a store as WANTED THIEVES.

  Terror was spread all over her face. Not so much mine or his. We had pictures of us in several stores. The only thing we cared about was which store and how clear the picture was. I generally wore hats and had learned to put my head down upon entering any store. We listened to her go on and then we went back to sleep. Since we were using her car we had to be extra careful as to not make her car hot. Its official we were the scum of the Earth. The quicker his family realized it, the better it would be for us. They were 100% enabling us.

  I was tired of being on the run with no money. I started devising a plan to get back on my feet. I had to go back to work ASAP. I read up on Nevada state laws. Which stated that if you had a low level felony; which I did, and you stayed out of trouble for five years or more. When you were caught they would dismiss your case. Oh my God, thinking about being on the run for five years made me weak. If I kept up on the track I was on, in five years I would be dead.

  Thoughtless, reckless and wild…that best describes what we were. I was a passenger in two high speed chases and one close encounter with an undercover officer. Luckily my airtight alias allowed me to get away. Even though one encounter my lover had said my real name. It was as if he was tried to send me away. But God had me and I was let go.

  Pacing around one early morning with a list of job possibilities I decided to place a few calls. Bingo! I was called in for an interview and hired. It was a call center that needed sales reps. This was perfect because I definitely had the gift of gab. However I had no I.D, and I was a fugitive, so this would be a tremendous gamble. If the Probation Department ran my social security number and seen that I was working. I would be locked up.

  That never happened. I worked and made new friends. I found myself once again handing over entire paychecks that raged from $400-$800 a week. I felt okay about myself. But it was hard to be happy, since I was hiding from the law. I had no one to confide in.

  The domestic abuse wasn’t as bad, a push here, and a chokehold there. Those I could take. Flying fists I could not. For some strange reason, I always thought I had done something to deserve that sort of abuse. But in reality I hadn’t done anything.

  Men who are insecure with their self will blame you for their own short comings. That’s what he did. He showed up to pick me up from work drunk and unruly. He was an embarrassment, but he was mine and I would defend him until the end of time. I was also sick. I was brainwashed. Every day it was the same. I busted my ass trying to meet sales quotas and then I would be out all night hitting stores and scoring drugs with him.

  Friday’s were always happy days for me, this was pay day. On this particular pay day, I was feeling like I should just turn myself in and get away from this asshole. When he started talking shit, and insisting that I give him my whole check; I jumped out the car at a red light. Only to be dragged back.

  This was a hopeless situation. So I stayed and I took it. My hair had been grabbed so many times in the middle of my he
ad that hair will barely even grow there. He stunted my growth as a person and he took away all my basic rights. Yet, he never owned up to anything.

  The lights & gas were cut off. I had a pocket full of money but there were three other grown people in the house. I felt no need to chip in. I was paying more than my share. So when they cut off our power we stayed in our room, with our flash lights and pipes. I prayed for death. But God never answered.

  The lights being cut out, was just a prelude to being evicted. Apparently, the new car I helped his brother purchase took all of his brother’s money. He collected $400-$500 a month from us as our portion of the rent and other household bills. He never once paid the landlord. So the Sherriff’s put a pad lock on our front door. All this happened while I was at work busting my ass.

  The best thing about Vegas was that there were always houses for rent. We found a beautiful five bedroom house. We were as whole, as one dysfunctional blended family could be. I continued to work as my escape from him and using. I formed a few close relationships with my coworkers. I found some peace in unleashing all the anguish I felt inside, on their shoulders.

  My lover’s chest began to bother him more and more. It had to be the drugs that were causing him to be sicklier. Then one day, just like several times before. He decided that it was time for us to quit. We threw out all drug paraphernalia, onto the side of the freeway.

  New start to an old life, I was fine with that. I had decided months prior that quitting was inevitable. But it was never my call. I even decided to try and be friends with his brother’s side chick. I needed a friend in the house.