Things are becoming so foggy and my vision is blurred. Why does my body feel so heavy? Where am I at? This doesn’t look like the attic any more. I can see white walls through the thick fog. I hear some faint, steady beeps. The beeps are getting louder and the walls are getting brighter. There is a flat screen television mounted on the white wall. The picture is starting to come into focus and I can tell that an episode of Law and Order SVU is playing. I have seen most of them, so I have probably seen this one too.
I try to get up, but I am tangled in cords. As the fog lifts, I see that I have tubes and lines and monitors attached to my body. I attempt to turn my head to get a look around, only to feel a sharpness in my neck. Struggling to get my hand up, I follow a line that leads to my neck; it’s attached to a needle stuck in the side of my neck. It must be an IV line. Not having to explore any further, I know that I’m in a hospital room.
Before I can do anything else, in walks my mommy, so excited to see me! “Hey, sweet pea!” she excitedly says. “I’m so happy to see you awake! Promise me you will finally stop scaring me like this!”
“Mommy, I’m fine. What happened?” I don’t know why I asked the question because I have a pretty good idea.
“Oh, my sweet baby,” my mommy starts off real soft, sounding extremely heartbroken. “You went on another one of your binges. You know that you can’t make it through all of them. This stuff that you insist on putting into your body is going to kill you. I don’t know what I would do if you died, baby.”
“Mommy, I promise I will get help. You know I have a lot of things going on…some things that I can’t even explain to myself.”
“Where did I go wrong with you, April?”
“You did all that you could. None of this is your fault. I’m just weak. I didn’t take after how strong you are, being able to raise me on your own and providing me with everything I ever needed or wanted.”
“Sweet pea, you have said that you would get help before. How many more rehab centers do you need to enter before something works?”
“Mommy, I have gone through so much in my life, some things that you don’t even know about. Give me time to get it together.”
“Time is what you don’t have. April, you have already destroyed your body. If the drugs don’t kill you, it will be a side effect of the drugs that do.”
“I hear you. But just trust me to do what I have to do. When can I go home?” My mom was starting to irritate me, acting like I have no control over my life.
“I don’t know, sweet pea. Let me go talk to the doctor,” my mommy says as she starts walking out of the room.
I know that I can get better. I can fix myself. I don’t need anyone else to tell me what I already know. Rehab, treatment, or whatever, will have to wait until I can get this pain under control. My mommy has me thinking too much, something I don’t like to do. It only makes me feel worse. Sometimes it’s better not to feel anything. First thing first…I have to get out of here. This pain is becoming unbearable and I need another hit.Things are becoming so foggy and my vision is blurred. Why does my body feel so heavy? Click To Tweet
Written by Dani Powell, Original Story Contributor