SoberRecovery : Alcoholism Drug Addiction Help and Information - Mistress or Heroin (Posting again to support Newbies)

This story is long, very long, but it illustrates the beginning to the end in detail. Please read on. All events depicted here are true and relevent to the illness we call addiciton. I hope this thread helps 1000s and 1000s of people out there who have lost a loved one or are away from a loved one.

Slipping Into Darkness!

I, Helen, was 29. He, "B", was 40. We met almost 2 years ago when I was living in Mexico. We fell inlove deeply and fast. I, being from the United States, was still unexposed to a lot of life lessons. He being a Mexican national had been exposed to everything including Heroin use.

In Tijuana heroin is cheap to buy and needles are not illegal to purchase or have on your person if searched by the police. In a dollar store you can purchase needles a pack of 20 for $1.00 US Dollar.

Upon entering into the relationship he was very honest and open. He explained from the jump that he had battled a heroin addiction and won. He had been clean for the last 10 years. I was very open in explaining to him that I had experimented with many drugs in the past, but heroin, alcohol and cocaine were not on the list. I also explained that I was currently under treatment for depression and used Ativan. Ativan is an anxiety drug. Sadly, I was taking them like M&Ms.

He would ask for a pill from time to time throughout the relationship and I would give him one depending on how high the stress level was. I didn't see a problem. I didn't feel like I was helping him slip back into relapse. I thought I was helping him. They were prescribed by a doctor! Huh. Doctors are legal drug pushers!

I went into the hospital and had plastic surgery. This was a 3 day stay in the hospital that turned into a 30 day stay. I had complications and contracted a bacterial infection that almost killed me. "B" was there night and day for me. He and my hired nanny cared for my 3 year old. He fell into depression. He was worried that I was going to die. He admitted to me that once in awhile he would drink a few beers to make the pain go away. He said he wanted to relax because he was crying all of the time. I didn't think anything of it.

Once released, I was released to, not the loving and caring "B", but a very angry and disappointed "B". He was angry with me and I didn't understand why. He couldn't even say, "I love you." I didn't understand what was happening. I figured he was angry because I had a procedure done that I didn't really need, I was running out of money because of the complications, and he had told me that I was beautiful the way I was before. Not to mention the SCAR it left on my stomach. He was, truly, not the same man I said goodbye to before the surgery.

Because of the 4 inch hole I had in my stomach I had to cross the border and check into a United States hospital where I learned of the wound infection I had and how the doctors in Mexico were covering it up. I also learned that there was no legal action I could take. I just thanked God I was alive and learned how to treat and pack the wound on my own. I returned to Mexico and walked across the border, bent over, with a hole in my stomach. I grabbed the first taxi I could find, because walking was almost impossible.

When I returned home, I found my little girl in the house alone. She was planted infront of the television. Happy to see me, though. "B" was not to be found in the home and the Nanny was in the guest house in the back. I noticed my home had an unclean stench and had not been being kept up. I questioned the Nanny. She informed me that "B" had been keeping long, odd, hours, my daughter had been living with her, and basically her services of a "Nanny" had been terminated! I was paying $140.00 a week for full services and "B" had cut her out of the plan and hired her daughters as babysitters for only $15.00 per day. I later found out that he was going to put my daughter with a friend that agreed to watch her for free. Now, I am pissed! Though, still not thinking HEROIN! I was thinking MISTRESS.

When I started questioning "B" I was told I was crazy. Still not questioning about HEROIN. I only questioned about the house, the hours, my little girl being alone, and the MISTRESS! He was angry. He couldn't believe that after all he had done for me while I was sick in the home and in the hospital I had the balls to question his actions. Within 4 days things had not improved and I had no answers. I didn't hear, "I love you." I got very angry and screamed at him that I wanted him out! He, within minutes, packed a few things and left.

Off to the doctor I went for more ATIVAN. I would need it to get through this break up. There were too many unanswered questions and I felt like I was the one to blame and I made everyone leave me, so I needed a FIX. It was the natural thing to do! It was what I knew how to do. Medicate. It was a prescription. Only a prescription.

After a few pills I rehired my Nanny and went on an 8 day vacation with my daughter to my moms house. The Nanny cared for my home while I was on vacation and got it back together. Smelling better, too!

I would see "B" from time to time at his job, because he worked in the border line selling items to people waiting in their cars to cross to the United States. I would try to talk to him, but he wouldn't talk to me. He just wanted to be in the line making that money. He had an addiction to love and money, sex and drugs, and anything that made him feel good.

I had started healing and the staples from the sides of my wound had been removed. I was starting to see the wound close, but it took 4 months total to see my stomach fully closed. I was able to stand upright again and one day I noticed I had dropped about 60 lbs. I never noticed before, because I was sick and things were crazy, but while being in the hospital, I lost 60 lbs. Well, this meant time for new clothes, make up, eye lashes, contacts and a new boyfriend.

I returned to my home in Mexico and took my daughter shopping. It took me about a week and I transformed myself into a DIVA. I couldn't believe how I looked. I even bought an exercise bike and worked out twice a day. I walked in the morning on the beach and used my bike at night before going to shower and to bed. I looked wonderful and everyone noticed.

One day, while sitting on the couch and crying over my love loss, I heard a knock on the door. It was my ex's ex-sister-in-law. She was from the United States, but lived in a low income colonia in Mexico. She needed a ride to the United States and I needed to get out of the house. After that we started hanging out and talking mess about her old ex and my old ex and before I knew it I was dating one of the construction workers that was remodeling her home.

Within 2 weeks I became addicted to crystal meth. Now very thin, I was happy, but sad. I only dated this guy, the construction worker, because he could get crystal for free and it took away the depression better than the ATIVAN. I was sad because he wasn't "B" and my fun was coming to an end, because it was about sex and crystal meth not about love or my daughter.

I looked at myself in the mirror and I looked at my daughter and I decided to stop the crystal and the relationship with this guy and it was really easy to do. I only used for two weeks. I realized nothing was being solved. Problem over!

Found out that "B" was asking about me and I went looking for him. I found him and he saw me. It was like all of the anger and deception never happened. My little girl was happy to see him and so was I. He looked good and so did I. We kissed and within 2 months were living together again. I moved, so there would be no hard feelings between he and my landlord and the Nanny. I chose "B". I never spoke to my landlord or the Nanny again.

Part 2 to Leaving Him for Loving Him (Mistress or Heroin)

Time went on and we lived together as a family. "B" worked and came home at reasonable hours. He was healthy and worked out everyday. We were all happy. We never spoke of what happened when I was in the hospital and chose to move on with our relationship. We, for some reason, couldn't be out in public together, but it was for political reasons I was told. I confirmed the reasons and they were true. After the Tijuana election was over, and "B's" leader lost the the election, we were able to go anywhere we wanted without problems. I was no longer thinking MISTRESS.

I was walking on the beach one day and met a girl named Nat. She was from the United States, too. We talked for hours day in and day out. She met "B" and because her mom was a local, she helped me get out of many situations with routine police checks in Tijuana. The cops knew her mom, bought drugs from her mom, the cops ate at her mom's house on their late night shifts. This woman knew how to take care of the police in Playas and if you knew her you were taken care of, too.

One day Nat and I decided to start up our own drug trafficking business between Mexico and the United States. I knew nothing about how, but I had a car and the money to fund the initial purchase. I told "B" and he wasn't happy at all, but I assured him everything would be cool and it was the answer our to our problems. Then, Nat's mom wanted me to make fake money for her on a pc. She had the official paper to print on, but she needed me to do the graphics. I declined. I went with Nat to meet our LA connections for the trafficking business and one day was all I needed to know that I didn't want to be a drug trafficker. It never happened. "B" was pleased and advised that I leave these people alone. We had already visited Nat's mom's home and "B" was starting to drink beer and I was smoking marijuana and unannounced to "B" I had tried cocaine with Nat in the apartment while he was waiting for me with my daughter at Nat's house.

I hadn't left Nat alone just yet. We were waiting to cross the border and I was encouraging her to go into the United States Military and clean up her life. I wanted to clean mine up, too, so we vowed no more risky business plans and no more drugs. She started explaining to me that people in Playas were watching me and "B" and I needed to know that "B" was dabbling with HEROIN. I couldn't believe it and didn't want to. I took her to take her tests and she failed all of them. She told me she was going to go back to selling crack on Century Blvd. in LA and I probably wouldn't see her again after that. I begged her to turn her life around, but soon decided it wouldn't work, so I left her alone. I left her mom alone and decided that we would move again.

Knowing that confronting "B" would start problems I decided to protect our relationship by not repeating what I had been told. I figured Nat was jealous and didn't want to see me happy or clean, so she would start problems between "B" and I . I looked at "B" as a family man and never believed he could be dabbling in HEROIN again. He was clean after 10 years. So, we moved to Colonia Libertad. Far away from the dream world of Playas. I never saw Nat again and I despised her for talking mess about my old man.

Once in Libertad things were peaceful. My daughter had a yard to play in. I was happy and "B" seemed happy, too. He was 10 min away from his job and I was closer to the border line, so I could drive across when I needed much faster. At this point no cocaine, no beer, no HEROIN, no Mary Jane, no nothing. I just didn't need anything but my family. I wasn't even taking Ativans.

On October 31, 2006 I found out I was pregnant. I had been clean for a long time and was happy. I walked to "B's" job and informed him of the news. He seemed happy, too. We started going to church and everything seemed like a fairytale again. House was always clean, my little girl was in school and we had a baby coming.

On Thanksgiving I had to visit my sister in LA. I wasn't able to tell "B" that I needed to take a bus to LA, but I had left him 100.00 for emergency. I was only gone for 1 1/2 days. When I came home "B" was worried, but he was sleeping on the couch in the dark. The electricity had been cut off, and the money I left was gone. I asked what happened and he explained how the police were going to impound the car, because he was driving my Infinity with no licence, so he had to pay them $50.00 for his freedom and my car. The other $50.00 was gone with no explination.

A week later. My mother came to visit and she wanted me to take her to the doctor to buy sleeping pills. I did and I also went because I can translate for her and the doctor. She got a box of Ativan, but I didn't take any. I was about 2 1/2 months pregnant. I explained that "B" was under a lot of stress at the moment, so she shared 20 pills with "B". He didn't take them all at once. He took them daily and he seemed better.

2 days after my mother left I woke up in the bed covered in blood. "B" and I went to the doctor and I had learned my placenta was introuble and I had a blood clotting problem. I was put on a month's bed rest and "B" was there for me again. This time he said it was different because I had no control over this complication. He would bring me food, cook, clean, do laundry, care for my daughter, and WORK. It was crazy. I couldn't do anything, but stay in bed and use the toilet in a bucket by the bed.

Things started getting weird. I would wake up in the night and "B" would be gone. I was on the couch one night and "B" came home and ran straight to the bathroom and threw up. I thought nothing of it. He would never give me a kiss right away. He was quiet and had to stop in the bathroom first and then come to bed.

I woke up in the afternoon and heard the police outside. I walked when I shouldn't have and found the police with "B" against the wall. They asked me if he was my husband and I said yes. They asked if he was on drugs and I said No. I told them we were all clean. I told them I was pregnant. I told them what I knew. What I thought I knew.

I woke up one night and it was about 3 in the morning. I found a note on the bathroom mirror that said "B" was sick with stomach problems and needed to go to the pharmacy and would return after he received the medication. I waited alnight and finally he came home, but didn't want to talk. I thought MISTRESS.

We even had a full size mirror in the living room and he turned it around. He said that he didn't want to see himself in the mirror anymore. I didn't get it. I told him he was beautiful and he wasn't starting to look old.

I started asking again if there was another woman and he denied it. He told me how much he loved me and spoke of our baby and how he would never do that to me. Again , it was how he has cared for me while I was sick in bed and how could I accuse him of another woman? I apologized and hugged him. I explained that I was worried because we were not able to have intercourse due to the doctor's orders and I was scared he would find another woman. He said, "No, no other woman." He told me he had me and I was enough.

Finally, this went on for about 15 to 20 days and I was better, ultrasounds were showing that I wasn't sick anymore and the baby was fine. We were happy again. I was up and walking around. I tried to clean house and stuff, but I would take it easy. One night we were in bed. It was early and we were eating top ramen in bed. We were sharing, so I would feed him and then myself. Things were fine for about twenty minutes and then he changed. He started lifting the covers up and back and looking under them. He wouldn't talk and when I looked at him his pupils were as big around as the brown parts of his eyes. His eyes were all pupils. I got scared. He looked like he didn't know me. He kept getting up standing in the dark in the living room with a metal pipe. He would stare at the front door with the metal pipe in his hand like he was waiting for someone to come in the house. I would beg of him to tell me what was wrong or if he needed a doctor and he wouldn't talk or let me touch him. I was afraid that he was gonna hit me with the pipe, becaue he didn't recognize me. I went back to bed and got up again only to find him in the living room bent over with the metal pipe in one hand and his hand behind his back swating away something that wasn't there. I screamed again and asked if had been given a strange pill at work or a strange cigarette. He wouldn't talk. Finally, I got dressed and grabbed my daughter and left walking in the night to find his brother.

We passed stray dogs, no taxis would stop and that is when I learned how dangerous Mexico is and how it was not a place for me and my daughter. I started thinking about how I couldn't be going through this and why me and I am angry if this is drugs because I wouldn't do this to him and he couldn't love me if he chose drugs over me. I was scared if he died in the house his brothers would blame me. I learned that night that this man had secrets and a double life. How could he lie to me? Why would he lie to me? I walked on in the night until a taxi stopped and gave me and my daughter a ride for free.

I found one of his brothers setting up his bed on the street. He was trying to stay warm. He himself was probably high or about to go into withdrawl, because he is addicted to meth and spends his whole day working to make money and riding his bike to go get meth. I explained everything to him and he explained that I needed to go talk to the other brother "M". I spoke with "M" and we took a taxi back to his home where we picked up his car and the other brother "C". I could hear them speaking in Spanish and from what I made out they were discussing "B's" friends and where he had been hanging out lately. "C" turned to me and asked if I could explain what had been going on. I did the best I could and he explained that if "B" was using again he was going to have to admit it and get help.

We arrived at my home and entered into the living room, but "B" had locked himself into the back bedroom. I remember feeling horrible for my little girl because she was tired and needed to go to bed, but her bedroom door was locked because "B" had locked it, too. Here we were my little girl, me, "B" and his brother's "C" and "M".

Most of the intervention went down in Spanish, because we all speak spanish. His brothers were asking him to unlock the door and he finally did. His brothers asked what he was on, because they have seen him like this before. They asked me if I had seen track marks on his legs. I said that I had not been looking for them, but I had seen the damage from before. I was always looking for hickeys or lipstick stains. What a fool!

"B" started making up lies right there infront of his brothers and stating that he wasn't on anything, I was trying to fight with him earlier and he didn't remember running around with any metal pipe. I started screaming because I felt like no one believed me. It was stressful. I begged and pleaded with him to tell the truth and finally, I asked one last time if he was on drugs and he said yes. I asked how long and he said 15 days, but later that story changed. You will see. I finally asked if it was HEROIN and he said yes. I broke down and cried. I hugged him and he held me. His brother "M" told me crying wasn't going to help anything and my crying was making him nervous, so I almost turned around and verbally attacked him. I hated the way "M" treated me. As if it were all my fault. "C" immediately told me not to blame myself. I was ok with him, but wanted "M" out. I remembered how a few weeks before this happened "M" told me that I should go easy on the money. I always resented that comment and never understood where it was coming from. If anything I was now sure his brother was wasting the money.

"M" asked me if I wanted them to take "B" away and I said I didn't know what I wanted. "C" told "M" that they should leave and let "B" and I talk. Once "B" admitted his problem he immediately started talking about how easy it would be to stop. He said it would be easy. He said it was nothing. He said he just needed to go to the doctor and get some Darvon and Rivotril. Darvon would keep the sickness away and Rivotril would keep him from being nervous. I thought to myself how wonderful. This has been several weeks of hell and stress of not knowing what is going on. Now I know and we can fix it all with some pills from the doctor. That is what I always did. I went to the doctor.

As the night faded into early morning. Still dark outside. We sat on the couch looking at the floor. He explained to me his veins were clean and he only snorted it this time, because he didn't want to get hooked like he did before, but I saw no difference. I had never seen him on it before, so I thought, but this looked like addiction to me. Leaving in the middle of the night to score! This stuff was ruining our family and ruling his life. He wept. He wept because he said he didn't understand why after 10 years he would turn to it again. My sister explained that he would never remember the pain of getting clean, or the pain he caused his family, but he would remember the feeling of the "rush". How good he felt. How he could forget the pain. "B" went on to explain how he felt he had nothing to offer me and I had everything to offer him. He explained how his son's mom was trying to put him in jail for failure to pay childsupport. He paid support, but not in the amounts she requested. I helped him pay sometimes, because I didn't want his son to do without. I felt like there wasn't anything "B" couldn't ask me for. Why turn to HEROIN if he had problems. He had me. Even if I was sick in bed I could write a check to cover his problems.

And so I did. I wrote a check. After we went to bed he tossed and turned and shaked and kicked covers and I held him and realized he had dropped about 20 lbs or so. I had never noticed wrapped up in my own world of illness and bedrest. The next morning "B" told me he didn't want HEROIN anymore, but he was about to start getting sick. In my mind I imagined him turning into the Incredible Hulk or something and I felt like we only had so much time to get to the doctor. I wasn't going to lose my family, so we got dressed and walked to the doctor's office.

Waltzed in and explained my "B" was hooked on "H". He offered us an IV drip for $300.00. Guaranteed to take away the sickness. I didn't have $300.00 because his VISA machine was down for the day. He asked "B" what he would like to take for this since "B" shared that he had this problem 10 years prior and "B" named off Darovn Simple 65 mg and Rivotril 20 mg. We paid almost $50.00 for that visit. This doctor called the pharmacy and stated we would be there to pick up the meds. He wrote fake reasons why "B" needed these prescriptions. "B" was making deals with this doctor on the scene. If the doctor ever needed blankets or anything sold in the border line he would gladly sell them at a cheaper price. Funny thing was that this doctor already had a 100 of those border line connects, because he was the CANDY MAN. Everyone went to him for this kind of problem.

Trip to the pharmacy, grab a few tacos, and back to the house to get started on the meds. He thanked me, took his meds like a good boy and went to bed. All I could do was sit and watch him. Sometimes I was angry, sometimes I felt bad, but mostly I just waited. I was waiting for the pills to bring back my old "B". I was an idiot. For this reason. I was ignorant to how hard it is to kick and addiction and to think Darvon and Rivotril would do the trick. Drugs for drugs. I did ask if the doctor, darvon and rivotril costs me roughly $90.00 for a two week supply (if taken as prescribed) then how much is HEROIN. He replied, "$2.00 US per hit". My jaw hit the floor. I also had to leave the house (always with my little girl) to buy water, food, and other house hold goods. I was always afraid he would leave and get high. He didn't I had locks that needed keys, so he was always locked in the house. He told me to take the keys.

This was the beginning of the end. I wasn't aware of how this goes and common sense wasn't kicking in at the time. I left the pills in the house. I thought he had it under control. Within 5 days the two week supply was gone. He was taking them before I would wake up and everything. He needed to keep up appearances at the government, too. The political scene, so he would have to leave the house, but I would not give him money when he would leave. He would return home on time and take a pill. I was back at the doctor having the doctor's wife write more prescriptions for Darvon and now Valum. I learned this was not going to be cheap.

His homeless cousin was storing his stuff at our home and would stop in to take a shower or eat. He was addicted to heroin, too, but he never acted out of line, or used infront of me and my daughter, so I didn't stress about it. He, as far as everyone was saying didn't supply "B" with Heroin, and encouraged him not to use this time around. He was harmless, so I thought.

Then I had to go to the United States to look for an apartment and obtain medical insurance for my pregnancy. I did and while I was gone I received a phone call from "B" that he was ill. I guess his meds ran out again and he needed money wired to him. I did it. When I returned he had lied to his cousin borrowed money. His cousin never knew I sent him money, so "B" was taking money from his homeless cousin, I found out "B" was trying to commit suicide with gasoline and matches when his cousin found him in our home. His cousin took him to the hospital and they evaluated him. Gave him a pill for nerves and sent him home. I found myself going back to the pill doctor for more Darvon and Valium, but this time with his cousin and telling lies, saying it was for his cousin, not "B", but the doctor's wife remembered me and told me to leave. No more prescriptions. We were requesting them before the alloted time had lapsed for each prescription. I felt like a junkie now! The cousin trailing along beside me told me that while I was looking for an apartment, "B" was taking the pills and using "H" at the same time and he was at my home to keep "B" from killing himself. I was now angry.

When I returned home I explained that I would be moving back to the United States to raise our children and he needed to check into a rehab, because this was out of control and I could not afford Heroin, Darvon, or Rivotril anymore. He wasn't angry, but he had horrible mood swings. We had started planning on "B" crossing the border to live in the United States, too, so we could all be together. Everything was set, my insurance, my apartment, everything.

He decided to check into rehab and I would start liquidating assets in Mexico, so we could make a clean break. I watched as he prepared to go to rehab. That morning we got all of his clothes togehter and his toiletries. Brother "M" was there and his homeless cousin. "M" and the cousin don't like eachother. "M" feels like the cousin got "B" back into Heroin, but they both swear up and down that is not the case. Anyhow. As we waited for the hour of departure to arrive, "B" cut holes inside of the flap that covers the hole in his boxer shorts and produced more Darvon and Valium. I shook my head. He stuck the pills in the hole, taped it shut and kissed me goodbye. He grabbed all of his things and had his brother "M" check him into rehab. The cousin and I ate cup of noodles and talked for a bit about how we hope that "B" kicks it and the cousin started to nod off, because he was high. Brother "M" returned and told me that "B" was ok and he was gonna be fine. I said ok. I assured him there would be no wild parties or anything at my house while "B" was in rehab and I would be ready the next day to go visit him. Before "B" left he wanted me to promise to go back to the doctor and get more Darvon and Rivotril or Valium and sneak it to him everyday at rehab. I refused and realized this man is going down and no one but GOD can save him.

I and my daughter retired to the room that night and relaxed. It was the most rest either one of us had had for a long time. I knew he had a problem, but he would be ok in rehab and it was better if everyone took a break. We watched TV together and cuddled. Then we woke up and I made breakfast for my little girl. All of the sudden I hear the the door opening and it is "B". He only spent one night in rehab and left. He said he wanted to get clean in the home and he wanted to do it without pills. The pills he left with the night before were gone. Maybe he traded them for more heroin. I don't know, but they were gone.

Well, the stress level rose immediately. He started getting sick and snippy and my daughter was starting to act out, because she could feel the tension. I once again would have to leave the house to go handle business in the United States. I would take my daughter and leave the house locked up and "B" would be inside. I would only be gone for the afternoon, but if it was dark when I returned he would swear it was midnight and he would be upset. I would have to explain that it was only 5 or 6 in the evening. He had no sense of anything. I wasn't leaving money around the house, keys were always with me and I could only ask what was happening to mine and my daughter's lives? This was insane.

Days went buy and he started getting better. He was weak and I was always trying to feed him and give him antioxidant teas. He had a thing while trying to get clean cold turkey for going out and standing in the sun. It helped him with the chills. One day he tired to wash my cars. He was trying start helping with the laundry again, but we knew he need not turn back to work. Work was one place where HEROIN was available. Not to mention the drug stops that were all along the path on the way to his job.

The plan had been, once I found out I was pregnant, that he would cross the border and come to the United States. Through mistakes he made in the past he would never be able to cross legally, so he started working on a plan. I was never involved with any of that other than where to meet him once he was in the United States, but this is what happened. Through searching to find old friends and pals that still cross people over the border for a living, "B" found old friends that still used heroin and old situations that took him back to that moment of his time of heroin use. He got caught up in it again. The two men that I met that had different ways for him to cross the border were both addicted to drugs. One smoked Meth and one snorted Heroin. Both willing to help "B" cross the border, but both offering one foot in the hole of the old lifestyle he used to live. At times I do blame myselft. I thought it would be so easy. I wanted to show him a different life over here. A new life here, but I didn't know he would have to revisit his old life to have a piece of the new life.

I sold everything in the home and he helped me pack everything. He was getting clean again and was starting to look healthy. He was working again and JUST SAYING NO. You can tell when they are clean and when they are not. You just have to be educated. After I found out the first time I did a lot of reading. I wanted to know how a drug could erase or lock up the free, full loving spirit I had loved so much. Where did he go? Where is he? He is there but he is locked up inside the man that now loves HEROIN.

Things were risky and scary, because I knew if he was caught by immigration he was facing jail time and if I were caught transporting him I would lose my daughter and I would be having my baby in prison. My own mother and sister were even on stand by for coming and picking my daughter up out of the custody of customs agents if I were arrested.

I had my family on board. They just didn't know the dirty secret. They didn't know what I had gone through with "B" from December 26th to about January 31. This all took place in a months time. I believed he would be clean enough to make to the states and just get even better there with all of the new things we had planned for ourselves. I didn't want him labeled or treated as if he was a criminal or thief or anything of that sort. He was a good person with a serious illness. I wasn't able to care for him until I stopped looking at him like he was a dirty junkie. I had to remember he was still there inside of himself just not as readily available as before when he was clean. I wanted my family to love him as the man that was good to me and my daughter. The man that took care of us and cared for me when I almost died. That still out weighed the addiction. I still loved him and wanted him to be happy and healthy at all costs.

Once everything was sold the night came and we had everything packed his stuff, my stuff, my daughter's stuff. His important records and everything I packed it and took back across the border with me. He stood in the back room and cried, but we vowed we would see eachother again. If he didn't make it over the border I would return the next day to look for him. We cried, kissed, held eachother. We apologized for everything bad we had ever said or done to eachother and assured eachother the relationship was never over. Brother "M" showed up and gave me a ride to the border. I had sold both of my cars. They were of no use anymore and I had a rental car waiting on the other side of the border at the hotel. I didn't care if it ended up with customs. Anyhow, they helped me to the border and carried my things as far as they could walk without getting deported. "B" said goodbye and got the hell out of there because he had to meet the man that was crossing him. His name was "B", too. He had a habit of about a gram a day in heroin and cocaine. I gave "B" some money before I left, so he could make it across or, if caught, eat the next day.

Long night in the hotel, but kind of relaxing. My little girl took a shower and relaxed. I could tell she knew whe was in the United States and she was loving it. She went to sleep, but as for me, I went to sleep and woke up every 15 min. "B" knew the hotel location and the number and I just had to wait for the knock on the door. Then the people next door started fighting and I had to go next door and ask them to settle down because I didn't want the police there and have "B" walk up on the scene at 2 o'clock in the morning. They were kind and didn't make a peep the entire night. Morning came, city busses were running and no, "B". I knew if the sun was up he wasn't trying after the sun was up. I looked for him by the trolley, but didn't see him, so we went back to Mexico. As I walked across there he was calling my name and extremely dirty. We cried, we held eachother, and we talked over breakfast. He seemed clean. Pupils in tact. Not too big (withdrawl) not too small (on one). He explained that at four in the morning he was there in the U.S. but customs agents saw him and he ran back to TJ. He wanted to avoid jail or deportation for other attempts he would have to make for me.

We spent the whole day together and his friend "D" had a plan, but "D" is heavily addicted to smoking methamphetamine. This man must have said 40,000 words in 2 minutes. I couldn't keep up, but he spoke english and he had a plan to get "B" across and they explained where and how I would wait for him the next day. "B" picked this man, "D" up to come and meet me from and place called the Villas. This where the drugs go down. In the streets, in the homes. It is all about drugs and that is where you go to score.

I knew where it was, but I thought "B" could go get this guy and bring him back with no problems. The guy was amped when he got to our meeting spot to speak of the plan.

I returned back to the hotel. Got my clothes ready and slept. Woke up and drove to the meeting point. No return to Mexico this time, because I had to go 147 miles to pay for the apartment. I would talk to "B" in a day or two. He called that night at my mom's and explained that "D" never showed up to help him cross. I imagine, "D" had a date with the pipe and that was far important than crossing my child's father. I explained that we would wait and find other options.