The spring of 1985 posed many new problems for my ever-changing life. My best friend Violet since preschool finally faced the music.
Violet lost her mom in a car accident two years ago. Since then, she found unhealthy ways of coping. Even though I talked to her, and tried to help her, she refused the help. Death was something I was unfamiliar with. I read books on how to help deal with grief. She turned to alcohol as her coping mechanism.
Then, it came to a head last month in March. Violet got into a car accident herself after wandering out of a bar drunk. She walked into oncoming traffic and passed out in the middle of the road.
Police and ambulances came to her side. When I got to the hospital, I was beyond angry at her.
"You got to get help. You can't keep putting yourself through this toxic cycle," I told her as she lay there in agony.
She was defeated and sad. The hospital was no stranger to her. They knew her history and finally, they gave her pamphlets on the Betty Ford Center. I had pushed her for months to go to rehab and clean her life up. It took a near-death experience to have her realize she couldn't go on like this anymore.
After a week in the hospital, I took her home to pack her things and helped her enroll in the Betty Ford Center for their 6-week program. She would get out in May.
Violet would be changed for the better in the next 6 weeks. I would also be changed.
"You promise you will visit every week right?" she begged as I was told to leave for the day.
"Every Saturday I promise Violet. We will be here to support your growth," I told her.
"And you can also call here every day to check in on Violet," the rehab nurse told me as she gave me the center's number and Violet's room number.
"You got this. I promise," I told her as I hugged her.
The first week seemed to drag on to the first visit.
I was allowed to bring her little things like perfume, deodorant, stuff like that. So, I made my way to the Betty Ford Center early Saturday morning to visit with Violet for at least 2 hours. She had nobody but me for moral support.
When I walked into the residence, I of course signed in and went to Violet's room. However, she was not there.
I stopped a nurse and she told me that the residents were doing a group activity in the big room. She took me to the room and told me to have a seat to wait for Violet.
She was in a partner pairing for some sort of art activity.
I guess she noticed the time and turned around and looked at me. Her partner was lost in conversation with the other person at their table.
Violet motioned for me to come over to the table.
"Is it OK if I come over here?" I asked her.
"Of course silly," Violet remarked.
"I brought you some stuff," I told her as they dismissed the mini-class.
"It's been a rough week," she mumbled.
She paused before her partner told her something.
"Oh, this is uhm one of my fellow, uh," Violet explained.
"Ralph," the male introduced himself. He had a distinct accent.
He looked so familiar but I couldn't place his face. I racked my brain to figure out who he was.
"Ralph this is my friend (Y/N). I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her," Violet said to Ralph as he extended his hand out to me to shake.
"You both took a very courageous step towards help," I told them both.
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You Don't Know Me | A Andy Gibb What If Story
Historická literaturaThe spring of 1985 posed a surprise to (Y/N). Her best friend since elementary entered rehab at the Betty Ford Center. But, perhaps fate had more in store when an oh-so-familiar face was also at the center. With a little bit of love and destiny, a d...