
Making friends and meeting people was never a difficult thing for me. I remember constant changed assigned seating for me in class. It honestly did not matter where the teacher put me, I managed to get the life story from every person that was around me. I don't know what it was about people that fascinated me. I really think its because we are all raised differently, and we all go through different things naturally in life. I am pretty easy to talk to, and often respond strongly with advice. I am usually the one who sits and listens to every little thing you have to say, and try to relate to every emotion you are feeling. I am not the one to judge and people know this. Naturally I'm called when something is wrong.
Through various parties I met a girl who looked exactly like Katy Perry(you know...the "I Kissed a Girl" song.) Just by looking at her, you could tell that she was very free spirited. She was always laughing and bouncing off the walls. It almost made you dizzy just by watching her complete a task. She would often begin five new tasks before even completing the first. All in all getting to know her was awesome. She loved rock and roll, concerts and hanging out with cool people. But when the doors close behind us, and our day has come close to its end, the secrets behind that door are far more serious than presumed.
I never understood what kept this girl so energetic and constantly running around. I asked one day, and she whipped out her Saboxone prescription. It was used for treatment for opioid addiction. She said that on days she moved slower than other it was because she forgot to take it. I knew she went through rehab, did the local NA/AA programs Sheboygan has to offer. It seemed like it was working. I attended for support a few times. I just wanted my friend to stay clean. At this point in our friendship, we shared many stories and many of hers were crazy adventures on getting high, shooting up, stealing from jobs, selling her parents things, fights with the most intense endings. She sounded like she was glad to be done with her past.
Except it was the one thing that hunted her day in and day out. That high from heroine was all she would think about. The sobriety lasted a while it really did, all it took was one serious situation for her to fall back down. Her boyfriend broke up with her, and she just couldn't seem to find the joy life had to offer. I would talk about religion with her and really shared personal stories on how I had finally discovered self love. I knew inside though, that everything I had ever told her, never sunk in. I knew the behavior of an addict, short conversations, eye contact was never made, little dumb lies, long sleeved shirts, constant "illness", depression, overall appearance was just haggard.
We had worked together for quite sometime. When I started I was assistant manager, and quickly became manager. She was hired as a sales associate and later moved to assistant manager. The line between Management and friends was never crossed. We maintained our professionalism always.
We were hosting an event at work on a particular Saturday and when I arrived to work she stood out the most. Her face was pale and looked worn. Her eyes were extremely glossy, and her pupils were extremely tiny. I approached and asked her if she was messed up. She looked at me with panic and fright and said, "no!" She was avoiding the question as well as me in general. I knew she was high though, I knew the process. Her break came around and for some weird reason she was in the bathroom for fifteen minutes then exited through the fire exit. I locked the door and called her and let her know I locked it and to come threw the front. It was procedure that I inspect purses upon arrival and dismissal. On her way in she was panicked and frantic. She looked at me and said, "I just puked in my purse!" I honestly thought she was avoiding the search, which made me think she stole something. I told her I was still going to have to search her stuff. We ran to the back room and she began screaming, "WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOU WERE ME? I JUST HAD TO PUKE IN MY PURSE! EVERYONE IN THE PLACE WAS STARING AT ME!" I had to tell her to calm down, I just stared at her with complete fear. I looked at her and said, "Shelly, YOUR FUCKED UP, AREN'T YOU?" In her panicked voiced she repeatedly said, "NO!" I put on some of our sanitation gloves, and began digging in her vomit filled purse. I came to a pocket, and unzipped it. Inside I found something wrapped in the blue gloves I was wearing. It was her needle filled with heroin and a spoon. My friend relapsed and was again a heroin addict.
I disposed of the drug and broke the needle in half. She didn't know what was next, she looked to me for comfort. All I had inside was disgust and hatred. People are born into the world starving, with diseases, and abusive parents. She was born into a life of luxury with loving friends and family, yet she chose misery, and death. I told her to leave for the day, I couldn't even look her in the eyes.
I could have called the cops, or her parents or my boss but I did neither. l let friendship cross the line. I felt sympathy, I wanted to help her, I wanted her to think about her life. I went to her house a day later, I expressed how I felt. I told her she was selfish, and that I could no longer care for her because she didn't even care for herself. She lied to me, and I told her I would no longer feel comfortable working with her. We both cried, and just looked at each other. I gave her the option to quit and give me her keys or I could tell our boss. She begged that I let her keep her job, but I just couldn't. I could never live with the fear of coming to work and finding her shooting up in the back room, or having her steal from work to support her habit, like she had in the past. Instead she gave me her keys and I left.
Its the day I had to learn that I could never save the world, that I was never going to be able to trust people and the day I had to let my friend choose to die. I was not going to be able to let her continue to work for me, or continue to support her habit. Leaving was painful for me, I somewhat felt responsible for her future if it would be fatal. I could only think of her last words that she said to me, "I guess you just have to want to quit and I don't feel like that yet." She expressed to me she didn't want the best for herself. She wanted the dark, lonely cold road. But the only thing I wanted for my friend was for her to appreciate life. To fully understand the happiness in the natural world around us without substance abuse. To just love life and to just love herself. It was to late though, the drug had taken my friend, her health, her personalty, and her beauty.
The only thing I wanted from my friend was for her to stay clean. That's all.