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Tales of a crackhead's wife
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| tatgirl |
An interesting read...
Tough-as-nails life of a crackhead's wife
JOE FIORITO
Stephanie said we could meet in a sports bar in a strip mall in Meadowvale. I came early. She came alone. She wanted to talk about her husband.
He is a crack addict.
He had planned to come with her, but he changed his mind at the last minute. He is trying to stay straight. He has moods and gets angry easily. Stephanie shrugged. His moods are the least of her worries.
She works in an office. He is a construction worker. She showed me a photo taken when they were married. They are a handsome couple. This is her side of the story.
"We met at a party. We got engaged a year later. I knew he did cocaine on occasion, but I thought he'd grow up when we got married. You know, you stop doing stupid things, and you get responsible." That was her hope.
She said, "We bought a house together and moved in. Things started going missing. I couldn't find my Gucci watch. At first I thought — you move, things go missing."
The bar was noisy. There was a baseball game on television, and there were young people drinking beer and eating wings.
She said, "He started inventing reasons why he didn't get a cheque; the job shut down, or he damaged some equipment at work and the money was deducted. Always some excuse not to bring home a cheque. I didn't know he was a crackhead."
She did not flinch when she said that. She's way past flinching. She has had to become tough as nails.
Not long after they bought the house, things began to swirl out of control. He had a growing need for money. She pieced it together: he sold her tools, their cameras, her bicycle, their washer and dryer. He maxed her credit card. "He sold my rings." What rings? "My engagement ring. My mother's wedding ring."
The people we love are strangers who keep dark secrets. One day she was moving some lawn furniture in the garage when some papers fell out of one of the chairs. She unrolled a sheaf of court documents. He'd been arrested for fraud.
"There were 96 counts. He was using a gas card — it wasn't his — to fill up cabs with tanks of gas, and in return he was getting maybe half the money from the cabbies."
She didn't say a word. When she showed up in court on the date, he was surprised to see her. He didn't know that she knew. And he was angry and ashamed because she also brought his family so they could see for themselves. They were shocked. He was released.
"One night he came home late. He said something had happened. He was with friends. They got pulled over. He said it was a case of mistaken identity. He was charged with possession of crack. I'm not stupid. Nobody has crack unless they're using or selling."
She pushed her glasses high up on her head. She knows more about drugs than anyone I know who is not a user. She said, "He sold his half of the house to me. We paid $225,000 for it. He needed cash. I told him to go to the lawyer. I had money in my account. I bought his half of the house for $1,000." What did he do then? "He went out that night." She didn't say where the money went. There was no need.
"I still can't comprehend that he was a crackhead. He was going to Jane and Finch. Dealers were taking my things and laughing at him. He probably got $50 for my watch. I paid $2,000 for it." She said, "They'll give drugs to you for free, just to get you started."
She did not blink or turn away or glance at the baseball game on TV. She said, "Some drug dealer got my wedding rings. That little bastard who got my rings, it's like I paid for his gun."
I was curious: why, after the lies, the sleepless nights, the fear and the worry, is she still with her husband? She didn't answer directly.
"We got him into rehab. There were two choices — a government facility with a six-month waiting list, or a private rehab clinic that cost $5,000 a month. He's lucky his family had some money."
He just finished treatment.
She said, "It's a sickness. How can you not help? He's a good man under all this. But I've told him he better hope not even a quarter goes missing from my purse.
"I've given him a choice. I said he could have a lovely wife and family, or he can have crack." An easy choice, as long as he's clean.
She has taken a part-time job three nights a week, to help pay down their debts. And he is under house arrest. She drives him to and from work, his support group, and his appointments with a doctor.
"When he came out of rehab, I asked him why he didn't say he was sorry. He said he'd said it too many times for it to have any meaning. He said he'd show me."
She's giving him that chance. They both know it's a day-to-day thing.
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| ChemEnhanced |
| Hey Moral....doesn't this story sound Familiar:D :toothless :D |
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| Moral Hazard |
| quote: | Originally posted by ChemEnhanced
Hey Moral....doesn't this story sound Familiar:D :toothless :D |
:eek: :wtf: |
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| ravinjunkie |
| That sucks. What a selfish person. |
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| Skipper |
| This, unfortunately, is usually the story of anyone close to someone with an addiction...why did this woman's story make the paper? |
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| EvilTree |
| quote: | Originally posted by Skipper
This, unfortunately, is usually the story of anyone close to someone with an addiction...why did this woman's story make the paper? |
Media had a slow day |
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| Xavier Moriarty |
now thats a woman. i really hope hes gonna get better but its crack so...
good luck |
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| mushyflowa |
| quote: | Originally posted by Moral Hazard
:eek: :wtf: |
:eek: :wtf: x 2 |
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| Ub3rTrancer |
| quote: | Originally posted by Xavier Moriarty
now thats a woman. |
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| The Wiz |
I just finished reading "A Million Little Pieces" by James Frey. The author seems to have gone through alot of the same things as this man.
The book was amazing. Unfortunately, there isn't much hope for most addicts and the struggle to fight against relapsing will be with him for life. Really sad. |
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| zokissima |
| Strong woman. Lucky, lucky, lucky man. |
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| riskytrader |
| Is a million lil pieces worth reading as Oprah keeps going on and on about it. She's really become a cheap salesperson instead of a good talkshow host. I want to get back into reading and need something great to get me started and not be a waste of my time. |
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