Lost weekend in Sausalito
I spent 110 days in treatment then off to a sober living. I was once again kicked out for going to San Francisco to visit a man who had sort of proposed to me. We stayed at his friend’s house in Sausalito. I went outside to have a cigarette and he said, “Don’t let Menace out.” Menace was our hosts HUGE cat. Once outside I heard Menace’s claws at the door, which had popped open. I was slipping on river rocks trying to corner him. He got past me and scurried next door. I went back inside and told Y that I let the cat out and he said, “The one thing I asked you not to do!” He got out of bed, put his clothes on, and went outside. I heard him on his cell phone calling a cab. Next thing I knew, he was gone.
The hosts in Sausalito were kind enough to entertain me. A beautiful tall thin blonde and a sweet smart guy with soulful eyes and a shaved head. We went to brunch and called Y from the car. He told me to go back to Los Angeles. I had a glass of fine chilled white wine with ice in my hand by 2pm. So much for 7 months sober. We went to an exclusive party at a Cigar bar downtown and I ended up going to an after party in the Summer district with a Russian cab driver. I spent 5 days trying to get someone to bring me to the bus station. Finally, I took a bus into the city, then back to LA. I was thrown out of my sober living for four days and within a month I realized I was pregnant. I decided to have the baby.
Jackson is Zygote July 2002
I was 6 months pregnant and expecting a son. His father had disconnected his cell phone and woudn’t return e-mails. I heard he was using and somewhere in or around San Francisco. I was seeing a man who was supportive to me during my pregnancy. He made me laugh when I was crying the first time I had to use food coupons. He took me to see a Harry Potter movie. We would be having a discussion at his apartment and he would start pulling up clips of Annie Hall. We still see one another on occasion.
He ended up dumping me when I was seven months pregnant. In an intense depression, I slipped and had a drink. I was really crazy this time. I put on a pink negligee and drove to Hollywood to see DOA at the Martini Lounge. They had to keep getting me out of the mosh pit.
I recommitted to the Program. I was petrified and I had no idea what was going to happen to me or my child. The woman I was staying with was smoking crack. I just kept going to meetings. I did once again shack up with a different guy towards the end of my pregnancy. We were playing Scrabble. I had just met him really. He was blunt but sweet. Some of the words on the board were Destiny, Sperm, Kilo, Writer, Writes, Breve and Shitty. That night, my water broke.
Jackson, my son, entered this world at 12:15 a.m. on January sixth, 2003 six weeks premature. It was a natural birth. I was in labor for four hours. After the birth an intense feeling of high pure elation washed over me. There was all of this fuzzy light energy permeating the room. Because I was in transition I opted for my son to go to the east coast to live with my family. My brother and his wife flew out and now have a guardianship. A nurse in the NICU said “You will always be his mother. You gave him life.”
I went to stay in an nurse’s pool house in Monrovia. It didn’t work out. Her spiritual advisor told her that “I was a risk”. Very strange. I went to stay with a guy in Highland Park. He lorded over me in utter weirdness. I stayed in Silverlake. I stayed in Los Feliz. . I jumped from my sponsors car in Van Nuys and wandered aimlessly for a week. I ended up in the laundry room of my old apartment building. I walked to the Catholic Church everyday for a week. I had hallucinations, both visual and auditory. It felt as if I was in a time warp and I kept seeing people from my recent past around. There were sideways people. They would disappear when they turned a certain way. I walked in front of a white van. It stopped so close to me that I felt my body go up and over the car. I was still standing there. I kept seeing X everywhere. I think it was the shock of being displaced so many times in a row after such a traumatic experience. I ended up getting picked up by the police and put in the hospital. I did not have my eyeglasses and couldn’t read or see a thing the entire time I was there. They observed me for a few weeks, then released me into the streets in front of the Public Social works building. I hopped a ride with some random guy off the street.
Healing May 2003
I stuffed my life into one suitcase and headed the Mt. Washington area of Los Angeles. An artist community. I met a sweet woman, an old hippy in Program. I was officially crazy and so was she. We were roommates for 2 years. I slept with Mr. X once last summer. We both agreed that it was weirdness. He’s in a serious relationship now. I am now single. And yes, finally sober for over one year.
M + The little girl that I was. She is still at my core. She still wants to drink and use everyday. She wanted to change the world. She wanted to write, paint, dance, sing and act. Parts of her have slipped away with every drink, toke and broken promise to herself. Sometimes I hear her in moments of stillness telling me that everything is going to be okay and I realize that she is the strong one. She is also the alcoholic. She was the one with ideals, dreams and hope for the future. She was the one who protected me and held me up when I was too exhausted to go on. She was also the one who took me out. Maybe parts of her are my mother and father reflections on life said to me as a child. Maybe parts of her are the little girl singing in church. I listen for her always now and sometimes she whispers and sometimes she screams. Most of the time I think she just observes. I take her places so she can listen.
Ms. X lives in Los Angeles.
"The sleep of reason
brings forth monsters."