My godchild began her recovery just prior to Hurricane Katrina.  She attended meetings come hell or high water ... literally.  Her life improved.  In her early 20s, she rented a beautiful little two bedroom house, had custody of her 3 year old daughter, had a job, a car -- all the benefits of being clean came fast for her ... maybe too fast.  It wasn't but a year later she relapsed.  That was about three years ago.  Now she's using, pregnant and on house arrest ... rather, she was on house arrest.

There and a half hours ago her mother sent me a text, "I need you.".  I drove the short distance to their house.  I arrived in time to see deputies from the Jefferson Parish Sheriff's Office putting her in handcuffs.  As they were leading her away I held her hysterical mother in my arms as my godchild cried over her shoulder, "Mommy!  Mommy!  I love you, Mommy!"  This was the same "child" that not too very long ago called her mother a whore and spat in her face. 

I finally found out she had tested dirty -- meaning the results of her urine test revealed she had been using opiates ... heroin.  All I could think was "Consequences, consequences, consequences."  She knew what would happen if she was caught using.

After the deputies took her away, her mother was inconsolable.  What happened next infuriated me ... her mother asked me if I had anything that would relieve her stress -- "Do you have anything that will knock me out." were her first words.  I responded, "One, I'm not the dope man.  Two, my meds are prescribed for a reason -- because I need them.  I take them as directed.  I won't participate in your addiction."  She clung to me, apologized and cried, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry -- I just need something. I can't do this alone. My baby's gone."

Maybe she did need something to calm her down but I wasn't going to give her anything.  I'm angry with her and I'm angry with my godchild.  That poor little baby growing inside of her didn't have a choice when my godchild decided to pump heroin through her body.  My godchild's daughter didn't get a choice about being left without a mother, perhaps for five years.  Her children, born & unborn, will suffer the consequences of her behavior.  But my godchild did have a choice and so does her mother -- unfortunately, they choose to use. 

My friend kept screaming at me, "She's your godchild!"  Was it an accusation that I failed her?  Was she passing judgment on me because I wasn't crying?  Was it condemnation because I wouldn't take part in the hysteria and drama?  I told my friend I love her and left her with her husband and her grandchild.

Last month marked 19 years clean for me.  I'm not proud or boastful.  I'm grateful.  The hurtful thing is that this friend was one of my first sponsors nineteen years ago.  She went above and beyond to support me during those scary months I was first getting clean.  I want to be there for her now but I can't condone her drug use and can't bear to watch.  I've always told her and my godchild if they want help getting clean I'm there for them; otherwise, no.

My mother used to tell me things I didn't understand.  Things like, "Sometimes the best answer is: do nothing."  or "Sometimes the best way to be there for someone is by not being there."  Now I understand.  For now, until they decide they want recovery, I have to stay away.  I admit being around that mentality could be dangerous for me.  I'm certain I've another relapse in me but I'm not entirely certain I can survive it and find recovery again -- I hope they do.