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“Thanks for the coffee again.” I smile at her, taking notice of her workout clothes. “Did you just come from the gym?”
She smiles back, nodding. “Girl, I’m telling you. You should come with me sometime. Believe it or not, the shit actually helps in a weird way.”
“I told you that I’ll think about it.”
Cartier rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. One day I’m dragging you along, whether you like it or not.”
I don’t really have a response for her. It’s not worth the argument and honestly, it’s pretty insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Maybe she is right. It could be something that would get my mind off of all the bullshit. It would be a nice distraction. And it releases endorphins so that could be beneficial.
First, I need to get on some type of a maintenance regimen before I fall back into a dope hole. I don’t want to go back to that, but fuck. This is harder than I thought it would be, especially still being out in the real world, even though I’m still on lockdown in the house.
The chairs in the circle quickly fill and the woman who leads the group enters, taking her seat. She doesn’t hesitate, as she dives directly into where we left off two days ago, discussing past traumas that may contribute to or trigger our demons.
I try to follow along, but sometimes listening to everyone’s sad stories just makes me feel even lower than I did when I was in a depressive episode. I feel like such an entitled little bitch. I never had to want for anything in life, yet I went and fucked my entire life up.
“Ainsley?” The woman, Sandy, directs her gaze on me. All of the eyes around the circle follow, settling on my face. “We haven’t heard you talk much. Is there anything that you wanted to discuss with the group?”
I feel the color drain from my face and my stomach coils with anxiety. “I—um—I don’t think so.”
Her expression softens and she gives me a warm, encouraging smile. “I know that it isn’t easy to talk about the hard things that we’ve experienced in life, but that’s what we are all here for. We all have a past and there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“That’s the thing... I feel like my past doesn’t really compare to anyone else’s.” I pause, attempting to compose myself as I wipe my sweaty palms on my jean shorts. “I didn’t have a bad childhood or anything like that really. I just somehow stumbled down the wrong path and ended up here.”
“There’s no comparison between anyone’s stories. Everyone’s journey is different and no single one is any better than the other. Like you said, you ended up here. That’s the common denominator between every single member of the group. Regardless of what happened in our lives, we still all ended up here because of our addictions. It’s not something that anyone has any control over. It’s not something that someone just one day wakes up and decides that they’re going to get addicted to drugs. You’re predisposed to it. It’s a disease, but it isn’t a death sentence.”
I stare at her, my lips parting slightly as I’m at a loss for words. This is the first group meeting that I feel like I’m actually gaining something from. I’ve been too busy downgrading my journey that led to addiction, that I haven’t been able to see that I’m no different from the other people sitting around the circle.
“I won’t push you for anything today, but just consider the possibility of opening up next time, okay?” Sandy smiles at me.
“Okay,” I say quietly, directing my gaze to the center of the circle, focusing on the light blue carpet. Sandy moves along, moving on to someone else in the group that actually wants to talk. I tune them out, picking at the hem of my shorts as I mull over her words.
It’s a disease, but it isn’t a death sentence.
Maybe there is hope for me after all. This is just another part of my journey that I need to try to navigate.
The meeting continues for another half an hour before wrapping up. Sandy sends us all on our separate ways with a homework assignment. We’re supposed to write down different triggers and what could be the root cause of them. It feels like I’m back in fucking school, but at least this work is beneficial in real life.
Cartier follows me outside as she digs inside her purse, looking for her keys. “So, was your mom cool with me giving you a ride home then?” she asks as she looks around the parking lot for my mom’s car.
“She’s weirdly been trusting of me. I’m sure if she really wanted to find me, she could. But since I’ve been home, I haven’t given her a reason not to trust me..”
“Hey, at least she’s giving some slack on that tight leash she has on you right now.” Cartier shrugs as a smirk forms on her face. “It’s not like she has cameras, so she can’t see what we’re actually doing in the car. We don’t even have to take a detour for the ride we’re about to go on.”
I glance over at her as she holds her key fob out, pressing a button. Her Benz beeps as it unlocks and I follow her through the parking lot. “And what is it that we’re doing, exactly?”
“Don’t try and play saint now.” Cartier pulls open her car door and climbs into her seat as I walk around to the passenger’s side. I get in, closing the door behind me as she starts the engine. “You need something until they can get you in at the methadone clinic. I wasn’t able to get Oxy’s, but my guy had some Percs and xanny bars. That will hold you over ‘til I get something else, right?”
“Anything’s better than nothing.”
Cartier pulls her car out of the parking lot as she reaches under her seat and pulls out a box of raisins. She hands it to me and I raise an eyebrow as I skeptically take it. “Um, I’m not really hungry, but thanks anyway?”
“No one really likes raisins, right?” She glances over with a mischievous look. “Just open it anyway.”
I’m reluctant, but my curiosity gets the better of me so I open it. There’s a cellophane wrapper from a pack of cigarettes tucked inside. I pull it out and find another one underneath it. Inside one has at least a dozen Percocet and inside the other is the same amount of Xanax bars.
“They’re all yours. I got my stash at home.” She winks as she pulls onto the road that leads to my neighborhood. “Just keep them in the raisin box. No one will suspect anything.”
I nod, tearing them both open as I pop one of each pill in my mouth. I grab the Starbucks cup that Cartier brought for me and wash them down. “Thanks girl. I don’t know what I would do without you right now.”
