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momofaddict · 4 years

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The Story of the End

November 26, 2019, Melody and I has planned a girl's day out. I sent the baby to the sitter, I had the day off from work, we ran a few errands, then enjoyed a nice lunch downtown. I had $150 cash in my purse from selling the laptop that she kept hawking for drug money, so my last errand was to deposit that cash and get it the hell out of my purse.

When we got home around 2pm, she said she was going to meet one of her best friends at the condo, who was already there waiting. She's a pot head and occasional Xanax user, but not an addict. I told her I loved her and she left about 2:30p. The condo is 10 min from my house.

She was supposed to pick up the baby at 5p. My son's ex who I'm still close with had been group texting Mel and me around 4:30. I'd been responding, but Mel hadn't. Not terribly unusual, but I got that oh so familiar sinking feeling, heart palpitations of worry started.

Just after 5p I text Melody and asked if she'd picked up the baby yet. No answer. I called a couple of times, no answer. She always got mad at me when I worried & blew up her phone, so I was trying to not do that. I texted again around 5:30 asking if she wanted me to pick up the baby. At this point I knew she'd used. No answer. I called a couple more times, straight to VM. I called the sitter at 5:45p. Nope, Mel hadn't picked up the baby. I'm on my way...

It was rush hour so I skipped the highway and took back roads. Mistake! Every light took forever, every driver was going half the speed limit. This only exacerbated my anxiety, which was starting to skyrocket. I prayed, "Please don't let this be it. Please let her be asleep and pissed at me for overreacting. Please don't let her OD and die!"

I got to the condo, & saw her car (was hoping I wouldn't, which would mean she's out and about). I parked in the fire lane, ran up to her condo and entered with my key. The place was tidy and quiet. I thought maybe she'd left with her friend that she was meeting there. I looked all over the house, seemingly no one was there. I walked to the back of the condo where there first a vanity area, then past that, a door to the tiny room with a toilet and shower. Then it hit me... I think the TV is missing. I ran out to the living room and confirmed it was gone. Initially I was pissed.

I'd left my phone in the vanity area and went to retrieve it... And suddenly realized the toilet room door was closed. I went to open it - locked. Insert major sickly adrenaline rush of complete terror. She'd never OD'd before so I was fucking scared.

I started beating on the door and screaming at her. Nothing. I looked under the door as best I could, I saw shadows. Was it her? Was it just dirty clothes on the floor? Why was the door locked if she wasn't there? So many thoughts and questions running through my head. I got a hanger to try to break into the door and called 911. I continued to try to break into the door with no luck whatsoever. Kicking, banging, screaming. It looked like one of those easy doors that all of us at one point in our lives have broken into, a knob with just a hole in it that you can stick a metal hanger in there and easily unlock. It wasn't coming open. Divine intervention, I've now concluded.

What seemed like forever, but was probably about five minutes later, a cop showed up. He too could not get the door open. A couple minutes later EMTs show up and I am escorted into the living room, but I didn't want to be by the bathroom anyway because I was so afraid of seeing something I could never unsee again.

They got the lock open, but something was against the door. it was like they were trying to be careful pushing open the door and we're taking forever doing it. I wanted to scream at them to break her bones if needed, I don't care just get that fucking door open!

At this point the babysitter who lives in the same complex rushed over when she saw the ambulance out front. I was a goddamn mess, screaming and crying harder than I ever had before. I told her to go look. She said Melody's head was in the toilet and she's blue. They pulled her out and I kept yelling at them I HAVE NARCAN RIGHT THERE BY THE BATHROOM!

Ms W, the sitter took me outside for air & one guy came out saying she's breathing. That was it for me, she's breathing and there's Narcan, she'll make it.

I went back in and the cops just kept asking me questions and asking me questions and I was in no mood for any of that bullshit. They had Melody laid on the bedroom floor. I couldn't see her, but the door was cracked and I could see them working on her. I swear to God it took them 15 minutes to finally administer narcan. Surely that was their second try?? But then I saw the thing that I did not want to see, CPR. I fucking flipped my lid!

They moved me to a spot where I couldn't see inside the bedroom anymore & about 10 minutes later they said they were going to transport her to the hospital. I asked if she breathing several times. All they would say is that they're working on her. They told me to wait outside while they transport her to the ambulance. I had my back turned in my ears plugged with my fingers because I didn't want to hear or see anything that would make me lose hope. I wanted to know that there was some hope that my baby was going to live. While I was waiting for them to get her in the ambulance, I called my son and told him to meet me at the hospital, that Melody had overdosed. He was on his way. I did breakneck speed to get to the hospital that was approximately 10 minutes away.

When I got to the hospital I waited for about 5 minutes until someone came and got me. They escorted me, not to my daughter's bedside, but to the "family room", a small, private room with couches and tissues. I stood in the doorway shaking my head, telling them no, I don't want to go in there, but eventually relented.

The first person that talked to me said they're still working on her, which of course gave me a small glimmer of hope, but why in the fuck was I in that little room?

Within about 5 minutes the EMTs, cops, and medical staff that have been working on her all flooded into that room. This was it, I knew it. They explained how hard they tried. I stopped them and said no I don't want to hear it, it's not true! I was bawling needless to say, head in hands. Finally I looked up and just said is she...? He just said I'm sorry. I lost it. Ms W (babysitter) came in about that time and I held on to that woman as tightly as I've ever held anybody in my life. I told her she's gone she's gone she's gone, my baby is gone! Everyone left the room that wasn't family except Ms W and a "counselor", who, long story short, it wasn't helpful even a little.

The counselor left the room at one point for about 5 minutes and my son walked in. I was trying to read his face to see if anyone had told him anything. He hadn't even had a chance to sit down and the counselor basically followed him in the room. I hadn't had a chance to say anything to him yet, when she extended out her arm for a handshake, introduced herself and said, "I'm so sorry for your loss." OMFG! My son looking at utterly and totally confused said, "Wait, what?" immediately started bawling. I asked everyone to leave the room and he and I just held each other and cried as hard as we've ever cried in our lives.

I went outside shortly after for some air. By the time I got back in, Melody's dad was there, my ex. We cried and held each other. It was by far the worst day of my life. At one point they asked if I wanted to see Melody. I decided I did not. My son and my ex saw her.

I had arrived at Melody's condo at 6 p.m. . By 8:45 p.m. I was leaving the hospital no longer a mother of a daughter. Goddamn heroin took her away from me.

Ms W kept the baby and we all went our separate ways. I thought I would want to be alone, but pretty much as soon as I walked into my empty house and Melody's cat walked up to me, I knew I didn't need to be alone. I called my best friend and neighbor and she came over immediately. She stayed for about an hour, I was exhausted, and thought I was ready to be alone. Nope! Being alone with my brain at that time just wasn't a good place to be. So I called my sister who lives fairly nearby. We'd been out of sorts lately because she had a mental breakdown a few months before, basically because my druggie daughter had a baby and she can't have children. She had literally told me that as long as Melody is in my house, she won't be there. But she and her husband rushed right over. We talked until I couldn't stay awake anymore.

Then came all of the busy work of trying to figure out arrangements for my daughter. How was I going to pay for a funeral when I just shelled out the last of my available credit card money to her grandmother's funeral one month before? That's a whole other story I'll save for another day.

The story doesn't end there though.

Two days later, Thanksgiving Day, D (the baby's father) came up on a train. As you know D has never been anybody's favorite person in this family. But he was so emotionally distraught, we tried to embrace him and help him as much as we could. Even my son who pretty much loathes the man hugged him and told him if there's anything he needed... The only people there were my son, my ex, the baby, D and me. We did our best to have a small Thanksgiving dinner together, because we didn't want to ruin things for the baby and we knew Melody would want us to continue with Thanksgiving.

The next day, D and I were the only ones at my house other than the baby. I tried to give him as much time as possible with the baby. We all also had to go to the funeral home that day and start trying to make arrangements. I wanted those closest to her to have an opinion on the arrangements. that was a total cluster fuck because after spending four miserable hours up there picking this and picking that for the arrangements, just for the funeral alone they wanted $16,000. That does not include burial, headstone, in a myriad of other things. Fuck that. But we picked a burial plot, because no matter the price, I needed her grave to be at that location, which is very close to my house. My sister helped me pay for that, $5800 (without the headstone), so at least that much was done. The $3000 headstone was purchased later. My God, these people really take advantage of people in mourning.

The next day was Saturday, two days after Thanksgiving. D had obviously been day drinking and was just going off at the mouth about how he's going to be okay, he's going to move back up to my city, get a job, get his life together, so he can take care of his baby. The thought of that sent shock waves down my body because I knew he would never be in a position to really take care of the baby. But I also knew he was talking out of his ass because he's getting drunk. he just kept talking and talking and saying the same things over and over. I think he was trying to convince himself.

Then randomly out of the blue, I'm standing in the kitchen washing a baby bottle and he opens my freezer and takes a giant gulp of vodka that I had in there. He turns to me and says, "Take care of my boy." It took me a full two or three seconds to realize what he just said and I said "what did you just say to me?" Take care of my boy. I immediately burst into tears grabbed hold of his jacket and I said what the fuck don't talk like that! He said there's nothing that I could do to stop him. I told him he's a fucking liar for all the stuff that he had said earlier that day about taking care of his own son. He goes yeah that's right I'm a fucking liar, just take care of my boy and he yanked away and went for the front door. I just said D don't do anything stupid, please, at least for your son. He started crying and saying how he's going to get the motherfuckers that killed his girl, & walked out the front door.

I'm not going to lie, at this point I thought it was a bunch of addict, drunk bullshit. Yeah right, he's going to set off on foot to go do something to these dealers? I gathered his things from my house, put them in a bag, set it on the front porch and locked the door. My daughter just died and he wants to pull this bullshit on me? I don't think so.

I had plans to run to Target and then go to my son's for dinner, so I continue with my plans with the baby in tow. Target is pretty much around the corner, and since it was Black Friday weekend, there was a cop car sitting in front of Target. I went up to the cop car and told the cop inside what just transpired, and told him I felt he was a danger to himself and potentially others. I told him he was on foot so he couldn't be far. He entered some stuff in his little cop car computer and said that they'd keep an eye out for him. I said I didn't care if it was jail or someplace else, he just needs to be taken off the street and put it somewhere safe.

As the baby and I were then on our way to my son's house, my phone starts blowing up with people saying that D is posting some pretty sick shit on Facebook. He had cut up his arms really badly & was showing them off on various pictures. Then he apparently got a hold of a roadkilled possum and wrapped it around his neck and posted one video naming his dealers by name and saying they're going to pay. Then he posted another video where he was literally eating or tearing apart this dead possum with his teeth. He had officially lost his mind. His last video talked about me and my ex and my son, thanking us for all we had done for him, but that it just wasn't enough, among other things. So while all this was going on, I decided to call 911 and let them know what's going on.

A couple of investigators called me while I was at my son's within 30 minutes of me calling 911. They just wanted more information about him. I found out later that they were trying to identify his body.

I got home from my son's house about 2 hours later and a cop was waiting in front of my house. He came inside and proceeded to tell me that a man fitting D's description was hit by a car while appearing to cross the interstate. They performed surgery on him but he did not survive. We later found out that he was on a bridge leading from one highway to another that was actually on the way to the dealer's house. The unfortunate person who hit him with their car said that he appeared to jump in front of her car. In that moment in time when the cop was telling me all of this, I was pissed. The baby was right there in his little jumper while I'm getting this terrible news, plus I just couldn't get my mind off the poor people that hit him with their car.

D's last FB post said, "Stop crying, it's a wrap, imma ghost." No question, he killed himself.

But there was that voice that said, that's it, no more addicts in my life. I never really considered that D would be a big part of the baby's life anyway. But now he's going to have no part and someday I have to tell this child what happened to his parents. And that's what I cried for.

As I've mentioned before D's family are pretty much pieces of shit. there was no way that I had the mental capacity to try to set up arrangements for his memorial too, nor did I have the money. I was still trying to raise money for Mel's funeral! So his ex from 11 years ago, the mother of his other son, bless her heart, took the lead on trying to make arrangements. His family did nothing to help. She set up a GoFundMe for $6,000 and only raised $2000. D had burned a lot of bridges and his short life. But she found a funeral home that would do the service, the embalming so he could have an open casket service before being cremated, the cremation itself, all for $3,000. I pitched in the other $1,000 out of my GoFundMe for Mel and a small service was held for him. The only family that came from Ohio and Georgia for his service was his sister. Oh but his mom left lots of sad face emoticons on Facebook, so she's clearly grieving horribly. Ugh. Wretched family! I felt so bad for his sister though. And even the mother of his other son. They were both tore up at the memorial. My guess is about 20 people showed up. D's other son, JC, was as sad as a little 11 year-old boy could be. That shit hurt my soul and I vowed to make sure that he and Melody's baby will be in each other's lives moving forward.

While making these arrangements, JC's mother and I also ordered matching necklaces for D's sons to wear that would have D's ashes in them. And just last week we spread some of his ashes on Melody's grave so JC, who really loved Melody, and Mel's baby (P) could have a single place to visit Mel and D.

This is what opiate addiction has done to my family and many, many families across the country. I am forever changed by this and I don't know what normal is supposed to be anymore. I said it before and I'll say it again, thank God for this baby. While I'll be 70 years old when he turns 18, he will have a stable home with lots of love, and I have that little piece of Melody with me forevermore.

#death by overdose #overdose #narcotics addiction #drug addict #heroin addiction #addict #addiction #na #narcotics anonymous #opiates #opiaddict #heroin

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coolpolarbear123 · 7 years

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BAND CAMP DAY 7

September 1st, 2017

Albus’ first year of Hogwarts--and my last Speaking of lasts, this is it, guys. The last band camp of my high school career.

10th GRADE BC POSTS (2015) | 11th GRADE BC POSTS (2016) 12th GRADE BC POSTS (2017) | COLLEGE: FIRST YEAR BC POSTS (2018) | COLLEGE: SECOND YEAR BC POSTS (2019) | ALL

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6

My 9th grade year, back in 2014, I did not have a tumblr. That’s one of the reasons those days weren’t recorded. The second was that there was no reason for me to. Why would I? I made new friends, I kept my old--just like that Girl Scout song about gold and silver circles (I should know--I’m still in Girl Scouts) And that band was the best thing of my freshman year. We had games every Friday night, we went to three competitions that year, all 60 people were the most family-like group I can remember. Practice Tuesday and Thursday until 4:30. Band was every day from 1:00-2:15. This was all in EST, of course. I have a lot of good memories from that time.

Of course, I moved, as you guys know. August 21st and 22nd of 2015. And because I moved here, I had to attend band camp here, naturally. So the July before we moved, I went to the band camp here. And it wasn’t the same. It was less strict, twice the size, not as family-like as I was told in an e-mail, and they only went to three or four games. No competitions. We didn’t march for the first days of band camp, and when we did, I was appalled. It was all Not Okay. I absolutely hated it. I went through that year pretty disgusted.

I needed a challenge--I told myself freshman year that being a drum major wasn’t for me. So there I was, as a drum major. 2016 band camp was year one of being a drum major, along with two very fun other guys (HDM and ODM). I was a nervous wreck, but it was better than 2015. Of course, marching and fundamentals were still not there.

Being a drum major was better than being on the field, so now it’s 2017, and I’m the “head” drum major. It was definitely different. The first year that I’ve known what I was doing, and it’s a very strange feeling. As long as I don’t pay attention to any of the marching--everything’s fine, right? Nah. This band will never live up to my old band for a multitude of reasons. I had so much more fun my freshman year, and it was so ordered because of how serious it was. This band will never be that serious--it wasn’t meant to be. No competitions, no away games. Not as many trips on the band bus, either, because of all of that. So, look. I will always and forever have my old band in the limelight. I was angry from moving, and I’m still angry at times. I was disappointed my 10th grade year, and it carried to 12th. Maybe not as heavily since I’ve gotten more and more used to it, but I’m kind of stubborn sometimes. And annoying. But it’s the last day of my high school band camp, and let’s get into it.

This Morning:

I started the first BC post with the word “tonight,” so it’s only right that this one is “this morning.”

I mean, I could have put “tonight”

But I doubt 9AM is counted as “night.”

I get there early, as always, hang out at the front, look at the board, see that the order for our first marching game has changed, and question reality

I don’t even remember much of the beginning

X gets there, and I talk to FHF and probably my brother

And then we start

Y isn’t there, and we’re running through all of pregame, so X and I try dividing up Y’s songs. I’ll do Seven Nation Army, and he can do Illinois Loyalty, and then I’ll do Land of 1000

Of course, while we conduct our actual songs as well

Y comes in during that, though, so they got to conduct two of their songs while I did SNA

That’s a relief, though, because all three drum majors are good to have

We finish that up, and I, of course, have to conduct the SSB at the end. Not as good as that other time, that’s for sure.

Apparently a lot of fish don’t know what SSB stands for

My brother’s doing well, by the way

Honestly the first hour and a half wasn’t anything special

A little bit of sass and sarcasm here and there, but nothing remember-worthy, apparently

There was one song that we played and the band director tossed his drum stick (I think), fell off the drum set, caused the band to completely falter, and then HDM (yes, HDM) had to clap to the beat to get everyone back on track

It was interesting. And funny

I think it was Land of 1000--Y was conducting. I think.

I think the only person who really caught what happened was FHF because she had the biggest reaction

Though she’s loud so all of her reactions are fairly big

When X conducts, HDM makes faces at him, and it’s really fun to watch

But he doesn’t make faces at me so I think that’s Rude

But ODM will occasionally nod so it’s okay

Now we’re on break

Come back, more playing. Halftime show stuff

The drum line comes in and we do a tiny bit of pregame

SSB pt 2 wasn’t good

I blame everyone who wasn’t paying attention to me. No one was.

But that’s fun because then the entire band freaks out when I start counting off. And the band director did say “start whenever.”

I did that twice--by the way. Why call them to attention when you can watch everyone freak out instead?

OH, MY GODS

I FORGOT

So there’s this fish trumpet player, and he was wearing a blue shirt today

And I swear to the gods I can’t stand the dude

The band director said we’d be running through the entirety of pregame, so get all of the music you need beforehand.

This. Kid. Did. Not. He got up to get his music every time we switched songs. Excuse me? No. No. No.

That was disruptive--waiting for him every time

AND THEN HE WOULDN’T EVEN PLAY

He would sit there and maybe dab back and forth

I swear to the gods

Like, you--

--idiot

I asked my brother later on about the kid. Apparently the dude is incredibly smart, in all of the advanced classes, a fantastic trumpet player, etc

Are

You

Kidding

I can’t stand whatever this Prodigy Kid™ is

That was pregame (the first 45 mins)

In the story, we’re in halftime (the second 45 mins)

This might end up being really out of order

We play I Just Can’t Wait to be King first, which, if you remember, is my song

For now

That was a bit of a surprise, but okay

I wasn’t on the podium for it. I was standing next to it with the band director on the podium

All of the drum majors had to do that

But I was the only one who didn’t have to start the band

Anyway, after we finish playing and the drum line is with us, we decide to teach the fish The Kick

This is a kick that we do in parades and the cue is a drum cadence called 1979 or something like that

So we teach the fish

I was on the podium while we taught them that (this was right after SSB pt 2 (after halftime rehearsal, before the halfway point of one and a half hours)

It was interesting watching them learn

I mean, I remember learning

I didn’t get it until our first parade

When someone in my grade was like, “It’s alright--you’ll know it after the parade.”

Yeah, I knew it after that parade

So, we teach them that, and then we head outside!

We decide not to do pregame drill today (yessss)

Drum Majors grab the sound system and the podium, we set up, and we stand on the sideline to figure out the salute

WE FIGURED IT OUT

I mean, a lot of messing around

And we literally high-five during it

But WE GOT IT X isn’t really the guy to have fun with Y and me, as I’m seeing

Then we watch the band because doing stuff isn’t fun

Watching people do stuff is

JUST KIDDING

Watching them wasn’t fun because their fundamentals aren’t anywhere near good, and I want to die

Oh, by the way, ODM and I nod at each other a lot. It’s fun

Eventually, we do “practice pregame” stuff. Nothing official, but it’s to get people kinda used to it. We do some of the moving and some of the run-on

The

Run-on

I ALMOST DIED

OKAY

I ALMOST DID

Basically, I have to run through the tubas and drum line, and the gaps weren’t big and Y and I had to switch places while running because of Things, and it’s going to be like that for the game

But I am not a runner

And running is not my forte

(get it)

and yeah

The band wasn’t that fast, though? We made it just fine. Nothing like last year.

We’ll see what happens when the year starts.

Anyway, we do that stuff, and we do that stuff more than once

ouch

And then the band director with the mic (the other two don’t have mics and were judging from the sidelines. It’s funny) says to gather by the podium

Logically, he’s going to climb the podium

So I do

And then after a few minutes I’m told to get down

Of course

Y climbed with me

I got down, sat in the grass

There’s a “take a knee” campaign while the band director was talking

A handful of the band took a knee and no one else did

They tried, though

And then the band director wants us to learn a cheer

And the band votes for one of the percussionists to do it, and then for ODM to do it, so they do it together.

ONE BAND

ONE SOUND

It’s not my favourite, but it works

I don’t even remember if my old band had a chant (That’s not good--that I don’t remember)

I think I just don’t like this one because it’s like “Hey this isn’t your old band.”

And then we went in

And got popsicles

Apparently “popsicle” is supposed to be capitalized?

I’m not going to

Before I forget: shouting is a thing

Anyway, those popsicles were really good

OH MAN

There was one point when the band was marching in a block, and us drum majors were sitting on the sidelines. During this block, the band would face us and march towards us until there were only feet away.

They also stopped facing us

Anyway, FHF messed up once, and she landed on her spot, but did a weird spin-thing in frustration and landed off her mark

To which I corrected her

I also made her get some of the sound stuff

Which made her lose her music

And then we “argued” about who was bossy

And she got her music back

And ODM was holding the band room door open, and when I walked in, HDM was like, “QUICK CLOSE IT ON THE DRUM MAJOR” Me: “RUDE” HDM, imitating me: “rOOd”

I have friends who spell that as “r00d”

that’s off track

Anyway, when we get to the band room, ODM and HDM have lockers really close together, so I went to them, put my arms on my shoulders and was like, “I miss you guys” “We miss you too--but you’re doing well” “Thanks! The run-on is really confusing, though” “So it’s when [this] happens, but don’t run right away. Wait a beat.” “You’re the leader. The band will follow the drum majors. Run whenever.” We then joked about running before the whistle

It was really nice conversation

Anyway, I think that’s it. I think that’s all.

I really hope I’m not forgetting anything

I’ll update if I think of anything--or if Y or FHF says something like “What about [this]?”

I usually do update it

But, yeah

It’s been fun, guys

Thank you for letting me rant

And thank you for reading

It’s been one heck of a ride

HERE’S THE DEAL GUYS. I am going into my senior (12th grade) year. This is my last year of grade school, and my last year of becoming disappointed by band camp. I do plan on continuing marching band in college, but as I am a flute player, I don’t know if I’ll be able to. It depends on where I go. I also play clarinet, but there’s no way of knowing if I’ll be good enough. I have this year to practice. I’m not one to get my hopes up, so this might be my last band camp post ever. Thank you guys so much for reading and experiencing this with me. I get absolutely no feedback whatsoever (well, now I get FHF, but besides her), so I don’t actually know what you guys think of this. It helps me and gives me something to look forward to. Thank you guys, so, so much. And if I am in marching band next year, I’ll tell you when I know. I love you guys. I miss my old band, my old friends. Just to say it one last time. Just know it’s true. I miss you guys.

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