She Is Me: A Woman in Recovery

Type

She

JULY 24, 2017

WRITER

Greta Young

Taking the steps to the main street, out of the subway, I had this strange feeling of someone following me. Having looked back several times, I was fed up and decided to rest for a while on a nearby bench. As I sat there, minutes passed, but no one came through. It looked as if I were the only person taking that route.

It had been a year, since that horrible incident that changed my life forever. Thinking of it, I still get goosebumps, with a chill running down my spine. Every time, I remember it, it feels that it only happened yesterday. How could I forget him? Joseph was my life. All those years we spent together, making the best out of our simple lives, those were the days. But his death came as a shock to me. 14th July 2016, I perfectly remember the date. Going home after a late-night party, both of us were drunk at our fullest. He asked to drive, but I turned down the favor. I think of it as the worst decision of my life. The car hit the footpath and toppled over. I sustained several injuries, but none of them were fatal. Hell, I wish they were. Joseph’s death was a tragedy for me, which left me heartbroken and I thought that I would never be able to face the world again.

 

But my life changed, after spending some time at the rehabilitation center. I gave up my addiction to alcohol and decided to start life anew.  Besides, my addiction was the only thing that killed the one and only person that I loved and cared about. I wasn’t even willing to drive again, thinking that it might put some one else’s life in danger.

 

14th July 2016, I perfectly remember the date. Going home after a late-night party, both of us were drunk at our fullest. He asked to drive, but I turned down the favor.

Almost an hour had passed, and I was still sitting on the bench. That blissful state of flashbacks was broken when my phone rang. It was Robert. I met him at the rehab. Like me, he had also lost someone special, due to his drug addiction and was determined to take another shot at life. He seemed to care a lot for me. We would spend hours, telling, each other, stories of how good and glorious those days were, that we spent with our loved ones. For me, he seemed to be the bearer of light and hope that was necessary for me to breathe freely again.

 

15 minutes had passed, since our scheduled date at the County Restaurant. After I picked up the phone, his first question was if I were alright?  His polite and caring attitude made me get up and go for my second chance at life, as my thoughts dwindled in the noise of cars at the main city road.