Page 117 of Taste of Addiction

“Good, actually. Minor headache today.”

“Did you take anything for it?”

I shake my head. “No. The thought crossed my mind. But I resisted.”

She nods and then smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “If we are going to move forward, I need you to be one hundred percent honest.”

Tears fill my eyes. “I am being honest. I’ve been struggling, yes. But I haven’t slipped up. Not even once, I promise.”

“It’s just that you have residual traces of Fentanyl in your system still.”

“I was never actively taking that.”

“Remember, any street pill could—and often does—have it."

“Okay. I just wish I knew how it was entering me. I’ve been very careful.”

“I would have expected you to have detoxed from this substance already—especially in your bloodstream—which is the first to get cleansed. Urine is next, followed by hair. I am going to analyze your hair, with your permission.”

“Sure, yeah.” I think of all of the places I have been in the past two days and all of the ways someone could have slipped me a low-dose drug without me realizing it. Maybe my body is holding on to the chemicals longer. I just know that I personally have stayed clean.

“I’m going to get a hair follicle from your head sent to the lab here and maybe that will provide a bigger scope of what is going on with you. In the meantime, let’s head down to see Dr. Westinger.”

After losing a hair to the plucking, I follow Dr. Lucian out of her office and get situated on the couch of truth. I am twiddling my fingers under Dr. Westinger’s watchful eye, feeling exposed and vulnerable. This woman doesn’t miss a beat. I feel bad for her husband; he probably can’t get away with anything.

Our appointment seems to fly by with just a back and forth question and answer session. She follows up on the question that was asked at the end of last visit and accepts my answer.

“I think we are moving in the right direction, Angie,” she says happily.

It is the first time I have really seen her smile. “Thank you. I know I’m not the easiest client, but I do appreciate all of your efforts.”

“In addition to what I can offer you here, I think joining in group therapy would help you bond with others who have similar struggles. It can do wonders for your spirit and growth. It is confidential, and those who attend follow a code they live by to keep it that way.”

“Okay, I can try it.”

“I’m going to leave you with one parting question that I do not want you to answer today. I want you to think about it, journal about it, and then report your answer back to me next week.”

I bite at my bottom lip. “Okay.”

“If you could exorcise the self-hatred from your body, what would you find there instead?"

I stare at her while I dissect her question in my head, so I know I understand her correctly. I send myself a text with the question so I do not forget and depart her office with a quick wave.

I run my fingers through my hair. Today has been very intense. I am really looking forward to hanging out with Claire and letting loose on the dance floor tonight.

I meet Graham in the lobby and melt into his open arms as he wraps me up with them. “How did everything go, sweetheart?”

“Today was pretty draining. I just need a few moments to decompress.”

“Sure, want to go back home and take a quick nap together before you need to get ready for your ladies’ night?”

“Cuddling sounds amazing,” I agree.

* * *

The sound of my phone vibrating wakes us up from our slumber. I roll and stretch. The nap did wonders on my headache and mood. I feel rested and ready to have fun. I glance at the screen and see that it is a text from Claire alerting me that she’s on her way.

Graham sits up and leans his weight onto his elbow, bending down to capture my lips. “I want you to be careful tonight. No taking chances.”

---