Running Away From Rehab

The fastest detox in the west turned out to be the runaway train on steroids.  Did I say ‘grounded and with clarity’ when referring to Alison? Oops. She packed up and ran off-  left the Fullerton house Sunday night precipitated by a phone call from Michael, boyfriend (and poly drug addict).  She corrupted one of the other girls and took her along too, and stole a phone and $60. $4500 for the detox, and 8 days later she’s back on the street, criminal cases and addiction hanging over her head. Oooooooooo Dorothy is going to plotz, and I’m gonna get the back lash (transference) but I am used to going to bat for Alison and then having her make a total fool out of me. What else are mother’s for?

And now, I get an earnest call from John, stepping up and pledging to try to find Alison- he said “I’m in the business of saving lives”, and expressed a determination to find and help Alison.  I solicited the powers of the universe to help her addiction and here comes John, but now, where’s Alison?  Here’s the score;

• John says Alison needs intensive treatment including a recovery coach on duty 24/7 for a year, even watching her sleep (ha ha), in the securest level of residential treatment available, which he has at his facility total lockdown probation approved (must be that strict).

• She is as hard-core as the most hardcore, and such a good con, she could fool anyone, anywhere.

• Dorothy called me and alluded to the fact that she is about to deny funds for treatment and doesn’t even know Alison ran off. (but she will by the time I publish this article)

  • Jimmie and I both dowsed.  She’s in Orange County with girl she left rehab with- not with Michael- hmmmmmmmmmmmmm
John asked me to call him at 6am tomorrow why, I don’t know, but I’ll be on the horn promptly. He’s got some kind of plan, who knows what.
The anguish is excruciating.

“Put it in the God box” says John. I like that, and I think I will.

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