20 May 2008

Suicide, Warm Thoughts. Part 2

You can find Part 1 of this story by clicking [HERE]

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It was November of 1988 when we headed north to Minnesota. Not the best time to make a trip north, but at this point it was a necessity. We loaded what little we had left into the back of my Isuzu pick-up truck and rented a small U-Haul trailer for the rest of it. We left the apartment in the middle of the night, skipping out on our obligations.


The drive was difficult at best. The three of us (“A”'s little brother came with us) were packed together in the Isuzu, and we were all going through drug withdrawals. About 5 hours into the trip we considered turning around and heading back. At least we knew who to get drugs from in San Diego. Maybe we could just cut back a little bit on the meth until we could quit. Maybe we could still make things work in San Diego. We knew better, so stopped at the next liquor store, picked up a couple of 40's and continued driving. Alcohol would be our way to cope.

We drove and drank – drank and drove. Hours and hours, miles and miles, until we finally crossed into Minnesota. We were all tired, hungry, crabby and a little too sober. I found it odd that “A” insisted we actually drive into a little town in Wisconsin – on the Wisconsin/Minnesota border – rather than finding a place to stay in Minnesota. Months later I would discover why this was so important.



Super 8 was the first motel we came to after crossing the Wisconsin state line. We, checked in, asking for the weekly rate. We had a plan. We would use the motel for temporary housing – maybe a week or two – until we could secure jobs and find a place to rent. Unfortunately, it was another plan doomed to fail. None of us had resumes or local references – not even a permanent address.

Against those odds, little brother secured a bus boy position at the local Perkin's Restaurant within a week and a half of our arrival. We had been looking at places to rent and we knew we could save enough for a deposit on a place with just two of little brother's paychecks. It had been 10 days since anyone had done any meth. Sure, we we drinking a lot of alcohol, but that was different. We were all certain we were on track for success.

At the two week mark of our Super 8 stay, we were told the credit card company would not authorize any additional charges on the credit card. We needed to check out the following morning. We had no where to go and no money to rent a place. We checked out of the hotel the next day in a bit of a panic.

We settled on sleeping in the truck at the nearby rest stop until we could come up with a place to stay. At least the rest stop was safe and had restrooms. We still had money for gas and food – the local gas station wasn't preauthorizing the credit card for charges so they weren't aware that charges were actually being declined. The drawback? November in Minnesota is COLD. Sleeping in the truck was not only uncomfortable for the three of us, but nearly impossible for any longer than an hour at a time. After an hour, the cold would wake us and we'd have to start the truck again to get warm. It was yet another “bottom” and one that I could help us out of.

We found a house in town that was available to rent. While discussing the terms of the lease with the landlord, we found we would need $600 to move in. My family had no idea the direction my life had taken. I didn't talk to them often, and when I did I was very vague about what was happening. I couldn't fathom the idea of asking either of my parents for help. Instead, I decided to call my aunt – one of my mom's sisters that I was quite close to – to see if she'd be willing to help.

I went to a pay phone and made the collect call. I briefly explained the details, leaving out those that were alarming enough that she might feel compelled to share them with my mother. She was able to help and wired the money to the local Western Union office the next day. We would be able to take immediate possession of the rental house as soon as we had the cash. One more cold, frequently interrupted night's sleep in the truck and we would have a “home” to start our new lives in.

28 comments:

Anonymous said...

Oh wow Dana!

I can't see through the friggin tears to write a comment worth much.Damn it!

You sure have come a long way. Good for you girl!

buffalodick said...

You've made me realize how easily this could/can happen to just about anyone. I guess I take alot for granted these days...

Dana said...

PP, It's good to see you back! There's more - you might want to keep the tissue near by ...

Buff, I think that's one of the keys to this story. It was only a matter of months before I went from an "average Joe" to someone who was living a life that was out of control.

Schmoop said...

That is rough. And yet, I am looking forward to hear the rest Dana. Have a good day. Cheers!!

tt said...

I'm getting anxious. I know there's more to come on your way down...and I so desperately want to stop you. Odd huh. the only thing that helps is I know you're in a better place now. Not perfect, but better.
Absolutely heartbreaking. You're so brave to put this in words....
{{{squeezers }}}

Leighann said...

This isn't exactly a "story" to be excited about but I can't help but wonder what's going to happen next.

As American as Apple Pie said...

I am curious about the town in WI. Can you share the name? The area where I lived had a HUGE Meth problem.

Very compelling story. I am very interested to find out how this plays out.

The 6 percenter said...

Oddly, I lived in my car (at a rest stop) in MN many, many years ago as well! (Also in November.) I could not imagine the drug and alcohol use though. Your story is very inviting into your soul Dana... how courageous you are to share!

Librarian Lee said...

Courageous is sure the right word. And remembering (for all those who don't know or who have forgotten) that it can happen so easily to any of us. I can only repeat, you are amazing, strong, wonderful woman; a real gift to all of us. ~LeeA

Dana said...

Matt, it gets rougher. Had I know this was the "good" stuff I'd have appreciated it more.

tt, it's odd - as I write this (and it has turned out to be much longer than I anticipated) *I* want to stop myself!

Leighann, I understand.

Dana said...

Apple, as the story unfolds, you'll understand my apprehension in being more specific.

6%, I expect there will be others who find an odd commonality with my story. Minnesota rest stops are nice, temporary homes!

Lee, looking back I can see all of the pitfalls (good old 20/20 hindsight) but in the moment, it seemed we were doing all that we could.

Knight said...

Sleeping in a truck in a Minnesota winter sounds like hell. I turned on my space heater while reading the story. Odd how easy it is to forget about the little luxuries until you think about such a painful situation.

Unknown said...

Sleeping in a truck in cold weather? Man oh man. I wonder if you knew, at that time, how very sad that really was.

Karen said...

This is a really haunting story. I cannot fathom sleeping in the cold like that.

Dana said...

Knight, at the time, I was just grateful we had the truck AND gas to warm it up.

Bina, no, we really didn't have any idea - it was just the only option we had.

Karen, you'd be surprised at what you can do when the choices become limited.

Christo Gonzales said...

wow wow wow....I am at a loss here

Farmer*swife a/k/a Glass_Half_Full said...

It is wonderful for you to share this. And, it does help "vent" yourself from all of that.

I plan to read how you pulled yourself out of it to get where and who you are today.

-- said...

Always stopping in the right part to keep us hanging. Brillant. Staying tuned for the next episode in this saga.

Anonymous said...

This is absolutely gripping. I am so scared for that "you" that was. I can see how you could get sucked up in that scene but I've never thought of the crashing part and the homelessness part.

Did you ever pay back your aunt?

Have you ever or will you ever tell your son about this?

Just curious.

Dana said...

DB, one of the interesting things about this process is that I have no doubt some people will be a bit surprised by my past - I hide it well.

Farmer'sWife, I think the epilogue might be the most interesting part of the story.

Cowboy, honestly? In this story it doesn't matter where I stop - it was pretty much an exercise in hanging.

Dana said...

FF, you'll have to read the Epilogue to learn how I made amends, and I don't know that I will ever tell my son this story - it will depend on if a situation arises where I think it might be of some value to him.

Vinny "Bond" Marini said...

You know...having a decent idea of where your life is now, it shows immediately the strength you have no matter what happened years ago...

HUG

Unknown said...

Your story is quite compelling. I agree that you stop at such cliff hanger moments, but I can imagine that every day then was a cliff hanger moment. I am so glad you are choosing to share with us. I also hope this allows you to relase all of those inner turmoils keeping this secret may have caused. Sometimes telling the secret is never as painful as holding onto it all alone. Hugs to you.

Jay said...

We've all been through rough times and we've all hit rock bottom a few times, but some people's rock bottom is further down than others. Sleeping in a truck in Minn in November is pretty far down.

Dana said...

Bond, I am sometimes amazed when I look back on it.

Amber, there are actually valid reasons for some of the secrets, but as I grow older I have less and less energy to put towards hiding the things that make me me!

Jay, and trust me - this was not my rock bottom. I needed to get a bit lower.

Ken said...

I'm still listening! Intently!

I had to get through Peachfest first! LOL

BBC said...

Well, I've lived on raw land that I bought, and lived under a tin roof while I built a small home. It wasn't good enough for the last wife so she went away, but I was thankful for it.

That was over 20 years ago and I've moved a number of times since then, but most of those times I've owned my own little space.

My little space now isn't big, just 75 by 100 feet. But it's mine, free and clear, and I'm thankful for it because renting is just a waste of money as far as I'm concerned.

I owe less than a thousand bucks to the rest of the world and it's because I'm not trying to please a mate that always wants more.

I'm not happy that I don't have a mate, but I am happy that I'm not in debt up to my ass anymore.

Happy paths.

Nicey said...

Dana,

Like someone says there is rock bottom and there is rock bottom, I think that we have all been there at some stage in our lives and I can so relate to what you have been through, but that has made who we are .....
Its all about living the NOW, the past has gone - thats history, the future has yet to happen, its about today Now, thats what you have to live,
I am so glad that you have come so far.
Stay safe, laters

Nicey
x