We got to Monticello, NY unharmed. I was filled with a liberating joyful feeling from running away from “The Family” but I had no idea what lay ahead for me. I was officially an out of state runaway. Sandy couldn’t go to her family so we went to stay with some of her friends. I find it amazing that someone would let an unknown 15 year old that just escaped from a halfway house sleep on their couch but they did.
The first night there we decided to go to an AA meeting. Above everything I still wanted to be sober. We hitch hiked to a meeting. We got picked up by some of Sandy’s friends, not the sober kind. I mean who doesn’t love getting a ride to an AA meeting in a car that is filled with pot smoke.
Bear in mind, weed was my very favorite thing on earth. I loved it more than alcohol. Weed had the benefit of causing a great high (until the paranoia set in) without the puking. So while I was in the back seat of some strangers car on my way to an AA meeting, someone handed me a lit joint. I held it between my thumb and pointer finger in my right hand and I tilted it from side to side as if studying something new for the first time. The thoughts in my head were this – I’m 15, no one will know, no one cares, I’m basically homeless and damn I love weed. I passed it on to the next passenger without taking a hit. In AA/NA they say that there comes a time when the only thing between you and a drink (drug) is your higher power, that was my time. Three decades later I can recall that time with the clarity of something that happened five minutes ago. That time has kept me sober through some real shitty days.
We spent a few days basking in the freedom. Sandy was already smoking pot but her drug of choice was heroin. The guy that picked us up hitch hiking made good on his offer to take us back to “The Family” to get our belongings. I look back on it now and marvel at the balls it took to go back there. I marched in there with my make up on in normal teenage clothes and demanded my things back. Oh and by the way f*ck you. Best day ever.
I knew that Monticello was not a long term plan for me so I started making calls. First I called my best friend back in New Jersey and her family was on board with me staying there for a while. The problem was I needed transportation. I called Catholic Charities and requested money to get back to New Jersey. They wouldn’t help because I was a minor. I still did not want to call my mother so I called New York Child Protective Services (CPS).
I turned myself into a CPS office and I was brutally honest with the person I met. I basically said I’m a minor you need to deal with me. Do not send me back to the crazy ass half way house again because I WILL runaway. By the way you may want to check out the place because I am sure they have countless violations. So I got sent to an emergency foster home until my mother could pick me up.
I can’t remember the name of the place I got sent to or where it was located. It was a seasonal hotel, summer being their busy season. It was a beautiful place and the lady there was so nice. She told me not to smoke in my room and like a selfish brat I did. Other than that I followed the rules. I was there maybe 4 days before my mom picked me up. Talk about a long awkward car ride. She was pissed that she had to drive 4 hours each way to pick me up. I was pissed because, well everything……
On the ride back she told me I would be home for a few days and then I would go back to rehab. Not sure if she thought I drank, she probably did. She told me the reason I was going back to rehab was because I didn’t have anywhere else to go. She also wanted to find a better half way house for me and I would have to enter it directly from rehab. Awesome. So here I am four months sober going back to rehab.
To be continued……………….https://wasthatmyoutloudvoice.com/2015/05/12/1-out-of-37-part-8/