40. Shane
Shane
July
I’ve called every day since I got my phone back. I wish I could say she’s doing okay, but I know she’s not. It makes this place even more miserable, knowing that she’s struggling without me. There’ve been a few times I’ve almost convinced myself that she needs me more than I need rehab.
That’s not true, though. I can’t help her if I die, and that’s what’s going to happen if I don’t get my shit together.
“Shane?” Kristy asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
“What?”
“I asked how you’re feeling?”
“Alright.”
She quirks a brow. “You seem distracted today.”
“I’m fine. Sorry. What were we talking about?”
She stares at me a beat before saying, “You were telling me about your drug use after you met Nik.”
“Oh, yeah. It got a lot better for a while. I went months without using.”
“What happened?”
“My sister came home.”
Her brows pinch. “I thought you liked it when your sister came to visit?”
“I did, but that summer she started dating my best friend.”
She stays silent. That’s a therapist thing. They don’t say anything in hopes that you’ll keep talking. It’s annoying.
Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “I didn’t like them dating. She was too young, and Gabe’s… well, he was an idiot back then. I guess, he kind of still is, but I knew it was gonna end badly.”
“And that triggered a relapse?”
“Yeah. He made her cry at a party, and I wanted to beat the shit out of him. Like I really wanted to fucking kill him. I drove around for hours that night, trying to settle. I don’t know, I guess I just convinced myself that it was reasonable to get a few Oxy’s from Marcus because it would keep me from hitting my best friend.
It seems stupid when I think about it now considering I was dating her best friend, but it made sense at the time. ”
“As an addict, your brain will do anything to try to convince you that drugs are the answer.”
“Yep…”
“Talk to me about your past attempts at getting clean?”
“I was clean for like two months right before my niece was born.”
“And why did you relapse that time?”
I shrug.
“Did something happen that triggered it?”
“My mother.”
“Does she frequently trigger your relapses?”
I nod, pursing my lips.
“Why?”
“Because she’s an evil bitch.”
She half-laughs.
“She just has a way of reminding me that I’m a piece of shit every time I see her. After she all but kicked me out of her house after my niece was born, I went home and called Marcus. I was so ramped up, and I knew I wasn’t going to sleep after that. It all just snowballed.”
“How often do you see your mother?”
“As little as possible. I’ve avoided her at all costs, but at the time, I was still trying to be there for Ash when I could. I saw her one more time after that when my niece turned three. I was a mess, and the whole thing was a fucking disaster.”
“Why?”
“I was fucked up. I’ll admit I probably had no business being there, but my sister’s husband treated Nik and I like he was so much better than us. It pissed me off. Also, he kept acting like he was Maggie’s dad.”
“You didn’t want him to treat her like that?”
“I don’t know. I mean, he’s not her fucking dad. I just didn’t like the guy. He kissed my mom’s ass, which she loved of course. I think he was the son she always wanted.”
“Did that make you jealous?”
“Fuck no.” I laugh. “I couldn’t care less about that. I’d gladly let her have a different son if it meant she’d leave me alone.”
“You say that, but I think it’s still probably hurtful to have a parent clearly favor a total stranger over you.”
I shrug. “It doesn’t matter; they’re separated now. Turns out, he was a douchebag. Anyway, I was in a really bad place, so my mother’s relationship was the least of my concerns.”
“What was going on at that time?”
“I was using almost constantly. Nik and I were fighting all the time, which just made me want to use even more.”
“Fighting about what?”
“Fuck.” I huff. “Everything. That’s what we do. Nik and I are confrontational all on our own. Together we’re fucking explosive.”
“Tell me about that. What specifically would you fight about?”
“Mostly my stupid shit. Staying out late or not coming home at all. She’d convince herself I didn’t love her, or that I’d left for good. Also, I was a fucking asshole when I was high so that didn’t help things, and she can be pretty fucking mean when she wants to be.”
“What did the fights look like?”
“Lots of yelling. Cursing. She’d usually tell me she hated me.
Sometimes I’d storm out and leave. That always made things worse.
She’d detonate either calling, begging me to come home, or to tell me that she never wanted to see me again.
She’ll morph herself into whatever she thinks will get me to stay or love her. ”
She nods like she’s thinking about something.
“How did you handle that?”
“If I left, I’d usually go to Marcus’s house. If I stayed, we’d scream and yell until we hit a breaking point then we’d end up fucking.”
She snorts a laugh.
“We weren’t always even making up. Sometimes she’d still be telling me that she hates me the entire time, but that’s just kind of our process, I guess. We’ve always been like that, but it definitely got worse after that relapse.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“I think she got her hopes up. She thought we were on the other side of it, then I fucked it all up. I think she kind of resented me for it. I really did want to make her happy. I just didn’t know how.
Even when I was in active addiction, I was still trying to make her happy.
It was just hard because if I was fucked up, I knew I couldn’t be around her. ”
She looks at me like she’s trying to decode something I said. “So… you weren’t high around her?”
“No—well, yes, but—” I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “The pills weren’t a problem. But if I did anything harder—coke or whatever, I couldn’t be around her.”
“And why is that?”
My stomach sours, and I don’t answer.
“Did something happen.”
I nod, picking at my nails. “I uh… it was pretty early on. Maybe a year or so into things. I came home in pretty bad shape. I didn’t mean…
” Rubbing my forehead, I lift my head to the ceiling and let out a long breath.
“We were fighting, and I kept trying to get away from her, but she kept coming at me. She was worried about me, I think. Anyway, something snapped and I shoved her away from me.”
“Was she hurt?”
I shake my head. “That’s not really the point though. In that moment, I’d turned into my dad and that scared the shit out of me.”
She sits up a little. “Shane, I’m not justifying it.
It’s never okay to let things get physical like that, but what happened between you and Nik is very different than what was going on between your parents.
Your father was trying to hurt her. I wasn’t there, but if I had to guess, I’d say you were probably triggered by her closing in on you. ”
“It’s still not okay.”
I tap my fingers on the top of the piano as I skim through the book in front of me in search of a song I haven’t yet learned.
I found it in the storage bench a few days ago.
It’s for beginners, so it’s not all that impressive that I’ve made my way though it this quickly, but I’m starting to feel like I’m getting somewhere.
I’m sure the others are glad that what I’m playing is starting to sound a little more like songs rather than just me banging on the keys.
Each day that passes, feels like ten, but I’m glad I came.
For the first time since I tried my first taste of drugs, I feel like I might actually have a shot at staying clean this time.
I can see a life at the end of the tunnel.
I’ve talked to Nik every night on the phone.
She’s hanging in there, I guess. The sound of her voice echoes against my bones, they ache and my heart twists with every word she says, but I’m doing this for her too.
I have to remind myself of that.
“I wanted to talk to you about visitors,” Kristy says, leaning her elbows on her desk. “Your mother reached out and would like to sit in on a session.”
“No.” I don’t even have to think about it.
She gives me that, you’re being a pain in the ass look. “Shane—”
“I said no. I don’t want to speak to her.” This isn’t up for discussion. I don’t have anything to say to that woman.
“I understand. I really do, but it might help you both if we could all sit down together and work through things.”
Firmly, I repeat myself, “No.”
“Shane, your mother is one of your biggest triggers. I’m concerned about your ability to stay clean when you see her again. I think it’d be really helpful to get that out of the way before you leave.”
“I disagree. It won’t be an issue because I don’t plan on seeing her when I get out of here.”
“You might at some point.”
“Not if I can help it.”
“Okay. And what if you do? Are you confident that she won’t be able to trigger you? I’m not saying you have to by any means, but if you interact with her here, on our terms, it’ll be controlled. Out there, I can’t help you.”
Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. This is bullshit. How is it that even when I do the right thing, my mother manages to fuck it all up.
I don’t want to see Brenda, but going back isn’t an option. I have a life, and I’m ready to go home. But if I’ve learned anything since coming here, it’s that Kristy is typically right. I’ve grown to really trust her. If she thinks I need this, it’s hard not to at least consider it.
So, as much as I don’t want to, it looks like I’m going to face my mother.
I groan.
“Does that mean you’ll meet with her?”
“I guess.”
Kristy wastes no time setting up a meeting and a few days later, my mom waltzes into my session with a big fake smile on her face.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Morgan.” Kristy shakes my mother’s hand from across the table.
I find myself a place on the opposite side of the room, staring out the window where I used to stand to avoid sessions with Kristy. It’s not my therapist I’m avoiding today, though. The less I have to speak to this woman, the better.