Since I'm broke, you guys are going to be my therapists today. (What the hell am I talking about? You guys have been my therapists for the past couple of months. I'll pay you later.)
I'm still on the path to loss, and although I seem to have periods of pounds disappearing and then periods where nothing goes anywhere for a week or two, I'm still feeling great and optimistic about my progress and my future goals. Something has been going on in my life that is not weight loss related at all, but I have to get it out so I'm hoping you guys can humor me for a day. Thanks in advance.
My spring break is this week. I've been looking forward to this week off for over a month. I love school, but it's getting down to the nitty gritty and these professors think I have nothing else to do but read books and write papers. Jerks. (I'm sure I'll thank them later. Probably. Maybe.)
So, last week on Wednesday I was psyched because I had just one measly day of classes left before I was officially on break, and nothing was going to drag me down, oh no. On my way home I stopped by my grandfather's house to join my grandparents, mom and aunt for our daily afternoon coffee. It's one of my most favorite parts of my day. The kids were running around in the yard when I pulled up. I immediately noticed that everyone looked dejected. Nobody was talking - that almost never happens in my family. I sat down and raised my eyebrows in question. Grandma started crying, Pawpaw got up and went in the house and my mom sighed. Uh-oh.
"Who died?" I asked, not even wanting to know. (Obviously a greeting like this makes you assume the worst. People should really think stuff through sometimes.) Nobody died, thank God.
My younger cousin, a 19-year-old, was in some serious, serious trouble. The previous Friday night she had been in a house with some "friends" - which happened to be under police surveillance at the time - when there was a bust (I hate that word. Sounds like a cheesy cop movie term). Inside the house were various forms of drugs, paraphernalia and equipment to make drugs. Drugs like cocaine, heroin, marijuana and "Mollie" (which I googled and realized is something like ecstasy in its purest form).
Oh, it gets worse.
When all of these people (some were teens, some were adults) were taken to jail, one genius of a cop decided to take my cousin, and instead of booking her with the rest of 'em, pulled her into a room and began persuading her to be bait for him to catch more drug dealers. Mind you, she was high as a kite at the time. Luckily for her a secretary from the defender's office passed by the room and stopped her from signing the paperwork agreeing to do it. So now all of the pals and clients of these people know that out of all the people caught, my cousin was the only one not charged. Obviously, she's a narc, right? Of course she's not, but they think she is.
So by Wednesday her phone is blowing up with threats from people. We don't know if these are legitimate drug guys or some dudes just doing drugs with their friends. She hadn't been around them all long enough to know. So she's still high (five days later) and she's terrified.
Y'all, this kid is, or was, a good kid. Honor roll all through school. Fellowship of Christian Athletes athlete. Smart. Polite. Funny.
Her mother was useless. She stayed so high when my cousin was younger that by the time she was in third grade she was able to wake herself up in the morning, get herself and her baby brother dressed, feed herself and her brother and get them both off to school, all while mom was sleeping off her most recent high. Mom eventually went to jail and then left the state. Mother of the Year, that one.
Her father is also useless. For all intents and purposes, he's a 40-year-old child. He thinks only about himself and how much fun he can have. He sent my cousin to this house to buy HIS drugs, and that's how she met these people.
It's understandable that the kid has some serious issues with her parents. Myself, my mom and my family have spent YEARS taking care of her, helping her, trying to guide her so that she would not go down this path. Somehow, though, despite all of our best efforts, it's still happened. It still happened.
She was so afraid those guys were going to find her that in her altered state of mind she threatened to kill herself before they could. So now she's at a mental facility under watch and going through detox. We're trying to find a rehab for her. She insists she wants to change, to get better. I want to believe her. I know she's going to need some extensive therapy. Lots and lots of it.
I'm just so sad.
Sorry for rambling on so long about something not even related to weight loss. This is just what's been going on in my head for the past week. Spring break, my ass.