HIGH - On LOVE & ADDICTION follows the relationship between two women. During the relationship, it is discovered that one of the women is addicted to crack cocaine. After years of dealing with the addiction, April runs away to another state. When tragedy occurs, it brings the two back together. The book chronicles the ups and downs of the relationship and Jeanie's struggle to get clean.
HIGH
On Love & AddictionBy April Joy Bowden Jeanie "RAINBOW" BellAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2010 April Joy Bowden & Jeanie "RAINBOW" Bell
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4490-0416-3Chapter One
April
Okay, deep breath. Writing this book has kept me filled with so many emotions. I asked myself if I was ready to disclose so much of my personal life not only to my friends and family but to people I worked with and worshipped with. Not to mention, the entire world. The answer was, probably not. But I was so passionate about this project. Every word written was a weight off of my shoulders. It allowed me to soften some of my heart that I had allowed to harden. It allowed me to let people in to a place in my heart that I had previously not allowed anyone to fill. With each segment of my life that I forced myself to relive, I felt empowered.
I have never met anyone who I felt could relate to my situation. I have sat in enough NA meetings where there were no vacant seats to know that somewhere there was someone else who felt my pain and shared a similar story. And maybe, just maybe, they have felt ashamed to talk about it. I was, until now.
It is my desire that this book will touch someone. Maybe an addict will read it during a sober time and realize the pain they are causing a loved one. Maybe it will cause them to decide that the last time they got high was the last time. Maybe it will touch someone in recovery so much that they never relapse. And hopefully it will allow someone who loves an addict to realize that they are not alone. And it's okay to reach deep within and do what needs to be done upon the realization that they've had enough.
Thank you, Jeanie, for allowing me to share your story, my story, our story.
Jeanie
In 1997, I purchased my first home in Petersburg, Virginia. It was a modest two-bedroom two bath house, but it was mine. I liked to get high, but I liked nice things too. My girlfriend and I had two nice cars parked outside the house. We nicely furnished the inside of the house. Not too long after we moved in, she realized that marijuana was not the only drug I used. She was disappointed. I guess she didn't go running because she probably felt stuck. We were already committed to one another, emotionally and financially. So, she stayed. As time went by, we became more and more distant. Eventually, we ended up sleeping in separate rooms. She didn't want to help me because she said that my drug addiction was my problem and that I needed to find the means and a way to help myself. By the winter of 1999, I had practically moved out. I spent more and more time with new friends and a new love interest about thirty miles from home. I was having a great time. The following spring, another relationship came to an end. I met the woman that would become the love of my life at a house party given by an acquaintance. Little did I know that this relationship would lead to one of the biggest turning points of my life.
April
I was twenty-eight when our eyes met across the dance floor. She wasn't my type, or so I thought. Our usual places were on opposite sides of the club. That is, until one day chance put us in the intimate setting of a gathering at someone's house. My best friend had invited me to the party. I didn't want to go. I had returned only a few hours earlier from a week in New Jersey. Everyone was having a nice time at the party. In the front of the house, people were playing cards and drinking. And in the back of the house, people were smoking marijuana. Although I had previous reservations about going, I was glad I had gone. Our first conversation was very casual. In fact, her best friend was doing most of the talking. At the wee hours in the morning, when we were ready to leave, my best friend and I received escorts to our car. The following night, almost everyone from the party ended up at our usual hangout. We all crowded around a couple of tables, laughing, drinking, and dancing the night away. At 2:00 a.m., when the club closed, no one was ready to go home, so we decided to go to a private club a few miles away that closed at six. Somehow, I was convinced to ride to the other club with her. The group continued the same antics at the private club. At 6:00 a.m., most drove home. I had to go get my car from the first club. When we arrived next to my car, we sat listening to music; neither of us wanting the night to end. She asked for a kiss. I said "No. I don't know you like that." She said, "It's just a kiss." And after about ten more minutes of small talk, I gave in. Jeanie and I shared our first awkward kiss in the parking lot just before sunrise.
We spent hours on the phone. I asked all the preliminary questions I knew to ask from previous relationships. I asked her age. She was ten years my senior. No problem. She didn't look her age. I asked her what type of work she did. She was a cook at an upscale restaurant. Fantastic, I liked to eat. I asked her where she lived. She told me she shared a house with an ex. What could I say to that? My ex and I still shared a residence. I didn't need to ask if she smoked or drank. I had seen her do both at the club.
A week or so after we began our nightly phone conversations, I was pleasantly surprised with a visit at my job. She asked what my plans were for the evening. When I told her I had no plans, she asked if she could come over to cook dinner for me. This was a first. Excited, I accepted the invitation. Knowing the answers to my preliminary dating questions, I figured she was safe. The company, conversation, and dinner were all great. The following weekend, we went separately to the club, but the distance across the dance floor had been closed ... forever.
Preliminary questions didn't stop after the dinner. I wanted to know how many sex partners she had been with. Her number was low. In fact, I was blown away to find out that she didn't lose her virginity until she was twenty-one. I asked about the ex who still lived in the house. She assured me that it was over and that they slept in separate bedrooms. I asked if she used drugs. She said yes. On occasion she smoked marijuana. I thought it strange that a woman almost forty still smoked weed. My friends smoked in college. But most quit upon graduation or upon obtaining full-time employment.
A few months into our courtship, I took her to a family function. My older sister looked at her strange. My younger sister pulled me to the side and asked if I was dating a girl. (I wasn't out to my family yet.) And my mom looked at me strange and said, "I hope you're not using drugs."
I've always thought I was a good judge of character. As a child it had been drilled into my head to be careful of the company I kept. I guess there're some things about a person that he or she won't tell you about when you meet.
The woman I was falling for possessed almost all of the qualities I thought I wanted in a mate. She had a good job, owned a home, drove a nice car, had a good upbringing, kept a neat appearance, and treated me like a queen. She also possessed a quality I could have lived without. She had a quality that took me over a year to find out about. She was a drug addict.
Many people date and fall in love with addicts. Some are addicts themselves. Some realize there is a drug problem and immediately end the relationship. This probably would have been the case with me if I had known earlier, before I had fallen head over heels in love. Some people, like me, find out...
