July 2, 2017

    I had a great childhood - devoted parents,nice community, all of what I needed and mostof what I wanted. However, I was not a "normal"child. I'm one of the members they talk aboutwith a "grave emotional and mental disorders" -although I think that's quite a morbid way ofviewing it - and it's called OCD. I can rememberbeing 4 or 5 and walking down the stairs withmy hand on the railing and getting all the waydown only to feel like it wasn't done "right", so Iwould go up and down maybe 10-15 more timesto make sure it was done "correctly".

    Being so young, I didn't know what was goingon, so I kept it a secret from my family for along time, 15 years. But I'll back up a bit. Thefirst time I drank when I was 14, I drank alcoholically.I blacked out, threw up, passed out,and couldn't wait to do it again. While I stillperformed OCD rituals, I found that alcohol andother drugs gave me that "just right" feelingthat I had been searching for all along. Allthroughout high school I was...

January 1, 2017

I was working in Napa February 23, 2012. One of those dreaded phone calls came " Mom, I've screwed up." (stronger language was used that day). You see I've received many of these phone calls over the years. This time seemed different. It was. My youngest son was in trouble AGAIN! This was a direct result of his drug & alcohol use! Abuse!!!!!! "I've been detained. The officer knows I use drugs & I told him you know this too."
I was very aware my son used drugs. It had been my reoccurring nightmare for many years. I was numb to these type of phone calls and figured I'd just go pick him up. The nightmare would continue after I picked him up, because it always had.
"The officer would like to talk to you." "Hello Ms. W." " I understand you know your son is an addict?" We discussed what I knew and I wanted to know when I could pick him up. The officer explained to me I had two options. "What?" "I will release him to you only if you take him to rehab" OR "I will have him taken to county j...

August 1, 2016

When I recovered consciousness I wasn’t able to move. I was upside down and the steering wheel of the Triumph TR 6 had my arm pinned to the broken glass of the windshield. “Two Trains Running” by the Blues Project dolefully slowed to a halt as the tape jammed in the cassette player. I had just driven off a 40-foot cliff and landed next to the Colorado River. My best friend, the owner of the car, had escaped major injuries and was able to get out the crumpled passenger door. He was trying desperately to lift the car off me as the gas leaked all around, but to no avail. He asked if I was ok and said he was going to climb the cliff to get help. I waited for the fire to start. It didn’t and help was there 45 minutes later.

Late the night before we had decided to meet the “ladies” at the Blue Water Resort near Parker Arizona to water ski. We drank beer, popped “bennies” (Benzedrine) and smoked pot through the night as we drove through the dessert. At dawn Rick asked me to drive the last coup...

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