One summer day, many years ago the Monsters best friend from childhood introduced him to what became his drug of choice, crack cocaine. I remember it was the era of beepers, as opposed to cell phones. At this time, I didn’t know what he was doing other than drinking, but I knew it was something harder because of the crazed look in his eyes. Plus there was a stale smell on him and some white gook would form in the corner of his mouth. Disgusting, looked like a rabid dog foaming at the mouth.

I recall him being away from home most of the day and night. In hindsight, it was the best thing for me to maintain my sanity. When he did stumble in, he would wake me any time of night, or early morning. He had no concept of time, not to mention any consideration for me knowing I had to get up and go to work. He would pick an argument about anything, talking fast and making no sense whatsoever.

At this point, I started to despise him. I didn’t know who he was; but could clearly see what he had become. I would think about killing him in his sleep, or hoping he would overdose or just get ran over by a big rig. OMG, Lord help me! I don’t want to go to prison. I don’t want to wish these terrible things on him. But I did.

This only progressed. About 2 years of Monster spiraling out of control, he decided he was going to get help. Thank God, I thought because I couldn’t fix him, and I was going under, just going on with my daily routine. Somebody had to do it.

I had excellent health benefits, and he went to one of the best rehabilitation facilities in the United States.

I stayed with his grandmother when he was gone, because at this point, all types of derelicts were knocking on the door, all hours of night. They were the scum of the earth.

Anyway….shortly after he returned home, we moved. New location, different surroundings, tools to keep clean.

Yeah right!

The monster came back, with a vengeance!

See you all soon.


Vera Robinson © 2014