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Thread: My brutal romance with a heroin addict. (Wall Of Text)

  1. #1
    The Overman's Avatar
    Join Date: 04.11.12
    Location: Hell, Illinois
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    Default My brutal romance with a heroin addict. (Wall Of Text)

    A rough sketch of the chaos my life has descended to in the past year. I hope to be as hard on myself in this as on anyone else.

    Backstory:

    I lived in Chicago for most of 2017 and part of 2018 with an ex-girlfriend of mine. We parted on mutually amicable terms when I lost my job up there, and we've remained in (infrequent) contact ever since.

    As gentle as my break-up was, I came back to my dead-end Illinois hometown feeling dejected. I was lonely, and sitting on an old DUI has left me incapable of pursuing much of a social life - my hometown has no public transportation infrastructure whatsoever.

    For several months I was miserable, scraping by at a dead-end job in a local factory, until my grandmother, apparently taking pity on me, gave me $40,000 which had been earmarked for my father before he passed away. I bought a Volkswagen with the money and gave $20,000 of the remaining money to my mother to keep for me, reserving a little over $10,000 for spending money in a safe beneath my bed. I fully intended to go through the legal process of getting my license back, but... you know.

    Part I: Just A Car Crash Away

    On September 18th of last year, I ran into an old flame of mine from high school at a local gas station. We had always had a certain camaraderie - she is the only girl I've ever been with who owned up to cheating on me without my suspecting it in the least, and while I ended things with her at the time I never held it against her, and we remained friends-with-benefits intermittently for years thereafter. I admired her free-spirited nature and her wanderlust. And while we fell out of contact around 2012, she had always been on my mind.

    So I was quite dismayed when I learned that she had been seeing a heroin addict for six years and, worse, had become one herself, though she was never so bad as her then-boyfriend, who I was vaguely aware of. Being quite ignorant about such things, I saw an opportunity to rekindle a relationship which had always been important to me and to help someone I had always been in love with in the process. And she was quite open about her issues, again earning my respect.

    The first test of our potential relationship was almost a disaster in itself. Her license had expired some months previously, and I volunteered to drive her out to the DMV to renew it. But she had stopped responding to my texts the night before, and, being quite curious by nature - a character traits that has come back to haunt me again and again throughout this affair - I drove by her place to find her car wasn't in the driveway she shares with her father. I texted her and she told me she had overslept. I called her on it, though, asking her whether she could drive in her sleep. She was almost immediately apologetic, admitting she and her boyfriend had gone "on a ride to the city" that morning, and we went on ahead and got her license renewed.

    Things went fairly smoothly for almost a month. I began taking her out frequently, and eventually invited her to the wedding of my best friend from high school. She hesitated briefly, but accepted - we hadn't actually done anything yet, though there was obviously a mutual attraction between us. I agreed to buy her a laptop for her personal use, on the expectation she would eventually go back to school. I also took her out and bought a very expensive dress, and when the wedding day came she obviously felt better about herself than she had in a very long while. And I began buying small quantities of fentanyl to hold for her, as a guarantee that I would see her regularly. In retrospect this last behavior virtually guaranteed that this relationship would become what it has.

    Still we did nothing for several days more, though the night of the wedding I got into a drunken stupor and began pressuring her to leave her boyfriend. She resisted quite fiercely, and we had a spat after we came back from the wedding that ended with her walking home, sans her shoes, and me following behind her in my car... an omen of things to come, in hindsight.

    We agreed to see each other the next night, and she stayed over for the first time then. And we had sex - she initiated it, and it was the best sex I've had in my life. Afterwards we fell asleep together for the first time in a decade, and it felt incredibly right to me. It felt like I belonged in her arms.

    We talked the following day, and she told me that she needed space but would be in contact shortly. I was.a little hurt, but we eventually agreed to communicate by letter for awhile while she sorted her relationship out. And I intended to follow through on it, until I got a call from her several days later telling me she had run out of gas in the parking lot of a local pawn shop. I immediately knew what had happened - she and her boyfriend were trying to score money for dope without approaching me about it. (The pawn shop had declined to accept his old television.)

    I was pretty angry and rushed out to bring them gas money - just enough to get her home. When I got to the pawn shop I exchanged a few words with Cody, her boyfriend, and gave him the money to out in her tank. He filled up a gas can while she sat stone-faced in the passenger seat of her car. I wanted to talk to her, but as soon as he was done putting the gas in her tank he jumped into the driver seat and floored it out of the pawn shop parking lot. I was taken aback and tired to follow; my anger had turned sour, and in my rage I tried to follow him. But I wasn't thinking clearly, and I pulled out into oncoming traffic and drove into the side of a semi-truck.
    Last edited by The Overman; 03-30-2019 at 01:08 AM.
    To revenge the misdeeds of the ruling class, there existed in the middle ages, in Germany, a secret tribunal, called the “Vehmgericht.” If a red cross was seen marked on a house, people knew that its owner was doomed by the “Vehm.”

    All the houses of Europe are now marked with the mysterious red cross.

  2. #2
    The Overman's Avatar
    Join Date: 04.11.12
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    Part II: Go Directly To Jail

    I'm not sure why I wasn't arrested. I had, after all, been in a serious accident on a revoked license, totalling my car in the process. But when I climbed out of the smoking ruin of my Jetta to talk to the police, it was already pretty obvious that I wasn't going to be arrested. I received a court date and citations for driving on a revoked license and no proof of insurance.

    I was fortunate that my ostensible girlfriend had forced her boyfriend to whip her car around into the parking lot to make sure I was alright; one of my few clear memories of that day last October is of seeing her face streaming with tears through my cracked windshield as she harangued Cody to stay while I dealt with the police. Evidently she had volunteered to take the blame for the accident and in my confusion I might have considered it, because in my next exchange with Cody he accused me of being a piece of shit for entertaining the idea. At any rate I accepted the blame for it.

    The next several weeks run together in my memory. Ne thing that does stand out was her revelation that she had pawned the laptop I'd bought her for heroin money - her idea, she claimed, although her boyfriend's name was on the pawn ticket when she handed it to me. We went to pick it up, and I suggested that I keep it untill she demonstrated a willingness to change. In an attempt to keep something of the burgeoning relationship alive I dropped $400 on a trip to Chicago to see Nine Inch Nails.

    And to her infinite credit, she did make a good faith effort to quit cold turkey (after my attempt to score Suboxone for her came to nothing). For a little over two days she agonized in my bed, me holding her hand and trying to cater to her with Xanax and she went through the withdrawal process. But she couldn't beat it in the end. I gave up and drove with her to get drugs - losing my patience along the way and throwing her bag of Xanax out her car window. I berated her relentlessly that day - the first of many such occurrences. Our night ended with us pulled into the parking lot of a local motel, me tongue lashing her for what in hindsight was more or less out of her control. And after we left, I made a point to drop in on her father to inform him about her drug use - he feigned ignorance, but it is impossible, I think, for anyone to look at her lifestyle and not see that something was wrong.

    So it isn't particularly surprising that, the next day, and not four days after my wreck, I learned that she was on another dope run with her ex. I lost it - and I called the police on her as an "anonymous informant", giving them the make and model of her car and telling them about her tendency to give her user friends rides across state lines to score. In a healthier moment I would never have considered betraying her that way... but I did.

    They were arrested the day before we were to leave for Chicago.

    I was sitting in her room when I first heard the news, intending to spend the night with her before departing for Chicago the next day. She had told me she needed to take Cody to get something out of the pawn shop for his mother; a trip into the city to score hadn't been on her itinerary. I had always intended to scare her straight, but losing out on $400 and one of the most anticipated concerts of my life wasn't quite what I had had in mind.

    The arresting officer only found a single fentanyl cap a piece on her and her boyfriend and a Xanax I had missed in the floorboard - lucky for her; at the height of our activities I was routinely buying a hundred dollars worth of the shit for her. They were both charged with a single count of felony possession.

    She sat for five days. I always intended to bail her out... but five days is enough time for someone like me to stick my nose where it doesn't belong, and in the interval I discovered that she had left practically all of her social media and e-mailed accounts signed in on the laptop.

    In my boundless wisdom I decided to warn off her junkie friends, threatening a handful of them with bad ends if they continued to fuck with her. I also took the initiative of changing her passwords, and discovered a few things about her - that she had been pursuing a budding career as a fetish artist, was accepting money from a man in Boston in exchange for nudes, and that she had half-seriously discussed a career as an escort with a close friend of hers shortly before I came into the picture, all behind her boyfriend's back. Needless to say, I tucked this information, and screenshots capturing it, away for safekeeping.
    To revenge the misdeeds of the ruling class, there existed in the middle ages, in Germany, a secret tribunal, called the “Vehmgericht.” If a red cross was seen marked on a house, people knew that its owner was doomed by the “Vehm.”

    All the houses of Europe are now marked with the mysterious red cross.

  3. #3
    The Overman's Avatar
    Join Date: 04.11.12
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    Part III: A Bad End

    I was running low on cash by this point, and had to scrape together some bonds my grandmother had left my father to bail her out of jail. In a perverse example of universal synchronicity, her boyfriend's parents were at the county jail just as I went in to post her bond.

    She was elated to be out, and regaled me with the story of her arrest as we Ubered to a nearby motel. In the morning we walked back home; she still didn't suspect that I had called the police on her.

    Cody was bailed out just a few days later, but this time I felt ready for him, having her social media accounts in my possession. It helped, too, that her car had been impounded, and her cell phone with it - it levelled the playing field between us, giving me a chance to run interference between the two of them and to control her flow of information.

    I admitted point blank to having them in my possession; she was remarkably placid about this. And for the first several weeks after her release our relationship seemed to be genuinely solidifying.

    But on Thanksgiving I made the mistake of getting drunk and approaching her father to bitch again. He told me that he had warned me not to bail her out (true enough), then got enraged when I slurred a threat to set her up and frame her for drug possession. He physically ejected me from the house, cracking my phone in the process.

    Things deteriorated rapidly from that point on. I offered to use a bond transfer to pay for a lawyer to deal with her case, which she accepted. We contacted an attorney and made an appointment, and I went over the morning of (her father works nights...) to ensure we made it. I fell asleep in her bed, and when I woke she was gone. She rolled up a few hours later with her boyfriend and his cousin in tow, and I went after them on her lawn with a box cutter. Fortunately, a neighbor noticed the commotion and called the police before anyone was hurt.

    .... Needless to say, she didn't end up getting a lawyer.

    Our relationship further declined over the next several weeks, though we managed to squeeze in a Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert amid the inanity of early December. Indeed, for the first week of that month it seemed like things were improving for us.

    Then Cody, her ex-boyfriend, passed away.

    She and I were laying in my bed when she received a text from him inviting her to party. She did ask my permission - not that it would have mattered had I withheld it - and I begrudgingly granted it after a brief spat. I made her agree to text me when she was through, and told her I wanted to see her that night.

    Which she held to. She did text me after several hours, saying she was done. I thought better of it and started walking towards her house before sending her a response, thinking to catch her in delicto flagrante.

    I approached her bedroom window and knocked on it, as was customary on my part. But rather than throwing back the curtains wide, as was typical on hers, she peaked out from between them like a shawl. I could see movement in the darkness of her room behind her, and felt my rage bubble up as she gestured to me to stay outside.

    I waited for the two of them to emerge, which they did after some time, she taking point in front of him. We walked several blocks in cold silence; then I called him some pretty execrable names while she finally broke down and collapsed. He gave her an ultimatum, and she chose... me.

    I walked home with her behind me, crying all the way. Her last visual memory of her partner of six years will always be of him slinking off down the street after I verbally assailed him.

    The call came in early the next morning - he had overdosed on a cocktail of fentanyl, Flexeril and cough syrup.
    To revenge the misdeeds of the ruling class, there existed in the middle ages, in Germany, a secret tribunal, called the “Vehmgericht.” If a red cross was seen marked on a house, people knew that its owner was doomed by the “Vehm.”

    All the houses of Europe are now marked with the mysterious red cross.

  4. #4
    Enname's Avatar
    Join Date: 06.04.16
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    I am not sure what to say, other than to continue blinking at the last post. Brutal indeed. Where are you at now?
    Quid ignorantia sit multi ignorant.

  5. #5
    The Overman's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Enname View Post
    I am not sure what to say, other than to continue blinking at the last post. Brutal indeed. Where are you at now?
    Nowhere, really. I used my access to her social media accounts to more or less blackmail her into staying in line while I scraped to get my own shit together (I owe 240 hours of community service as a consequence of the wreck). But I have gradually relented on that, reaching a mutual decision to simply delete her Facebook account. And naturally enough she has distanced ever since to an uncomfortable degree, spending increasing amounts of time away from home. The last three months have been a back-and-forth on this.

    That said, I'm about to collect a $35,000 inheritance from a relative, and I'm going to try to make one last case to her that she ought to at least attempt to get her shit together with me. If she refuses, there's nothing more I can do.
    Last edited by The Overman; 03-31-2019 at 06:39 AM.
    To revenge the misdeeds of the ruling class, there existed in the middle ages, in Germany, a secret tribunal, called the “Vehmgericht.” If a red cross was seen marked on a house, people knew that its owner was doomed by the “Vehm.”

    All the houses of Europe are now marked with the mysterious red cross.

  6. #6
    YoureAlreadyHere's Avatar
    Join Date: 01.13.14
    Posts: 1,530
    Rank: 15 Gauge

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    Why do you share this here?
    --------------------------------

    Don't tell me what to do.

  7. #7
    Enname's Avatar
    Join Date: 06.04.16
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    Quote Originally Posted by The Overman View Post
    Nowhere, really. I used my access to her social media accounts to more or less blackmail her into staying in line while I scraped to get my own shit together (I owe 240 hours of community service as a consequence of the wreck). But I have gradually relented on that, reaching a mutual decision to simply delete her Facebook account. And naturally enough she has distanced ever since to an uncomfortable degree, spending increasing amounts of time away from home. The last three months have been a back-and-forth on this.

    That said, I'm about to collect a $35,000 inheritance from a relative, and I'm going to try to make one last case to her that she ought to at least attempt to get her shit together with me. If she refuses, there's nothing more I can do.
    Good luck, although from your description all the previous times you have attempted to help (and blackmail) her into sorting herself out ended up in utter chaos, even without the added difficulty of throwing the possibility of recovery in there. How is she doing with the death of her partner?
    Quid ignorantia sit multi ignorant.

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