Intervention

The night the call finally landed.

Late Spring 2003. I’m 22.

It was all coming to a head. I could no longer hide my using from anyone.

A week ago, I was left crying on the floor by friends who couldn’t tolerate me anymore. They were heartbroken too.

I was invited back to the house to meet them in the garage. I knew the confrontation was coming. So, I did what any good addict does. I got high first so I could face them. I didn’t want to hear it.

I pulled up to the house, parked on the street. I threw my head back against the headrest. Deep sigh. I took a final hit to get me through it, and stepped out.

Head down.

Walk of shame.

They were all sitting in a half circle waiting for me. It was nighttime. The garage was glowing inside. I never walked in. I stayed in the dark and sat on an empty box while they all looked at me.

Crickets.

I muttered a hello.

The one who owned the house piped up first. I don't remember what she said. She was saving face. She knew what she'd done with me behind closed doors.

Eye roll inside.

My arms were crossed. Body was tight. Head still down. Heart was racing.

Was it racing because I was nervous? Or was it the hit I just took?

I stayed quiet.

Once the hypocrite spoke, everything drowned out after that. Of all people, she was the one with the audacity to speak first.

After her turn, I heard voices off to the side talking to me. I can’t recall what was said. It’s a blur.

I finally looked up. I locked eyes with the one God knew I needed to hear from. She was sitting in the center of the half circle, directly across from me. The friend I passed notes with. The one I giggled with about the boys we would marry. Thelma & Louise since 4th grade. The one I never thought would leave me.

Squirming.

“Dan. I always thought we’d grow old together.” My 4th grade friend said. “That we would be in each other’s weddings, and raise our kids together. I’m terrified when the phone rings at night that I’m going to find out you’re dead. I can no longer stand by and watch you destroy your life and kill yourself. I can’t be a part of your life anymore. I’m done.”

Gut punch.

Mic drop.

I did not expect this from my sweet friend. The one I could always count on. The one with so many shared inside jokes and memories.

How did I end up here? Sitting across from the friend I never thought twice would ever leave me. I knew I was bad, but this was next level. I did not see this coming.

I winced.

What could I say? She was right. I knew where I was headed. Jail or dead. I had hoped for the second more than once.

I nodded and muttered, “Ok, I understand.”

I didn’t want to lose my friend. I didn’t want to die. I had a brother fighting for his life due to medical neglect. I was actively pursuing to end mine.

This was the call out of Egypt. The one who loved me enough to walk away.

I got up. I held it long enough to exit. I knew where they stood. If my best friend could no longer be a part of my life, I knew the rest would follow.

I called the guy I was seeing at the time. He’d distract me.

Who needs them anyway?

I did.

Deep down I didn’t believe my own lie.

- No one is too lost to be saved