Now it can be told
Okay, since kavieshana is waiting patiently... And let me begin by saying this is a pretty heavy entry, but it does have a happy ending. Including my artist's rendering of a courtroom that you really don't want to miss.
Like this.
Everyone may or may not know about Tery's long relationship with alcohol. She never considered herself an alcoholic, whereas I had slightly different standards. She would rarely get "trashed," but there was more than one evening when she'd come home and could barely make it through the front door in a straight line. I was appalled she had driven in that condition. It was our favorite fight for many years. I would scream and yell and belittle her. She would be ashamed enough of herself to behave for a week or two. But she'd always go back.
For anyone who doesn't know, I don't drink. I think liquor tastes vile, and I don't like what it does to people. I think it causes more problems than it solves and I just plain don't understand why people are allowed to poison themselves.
But this isn't about me, it's about Tery. She got arrested once before, caught going the wrong way down a one-way street in downtown Denver. I let her cool her heels in the drunk tank overnight and bailed her out the next morning, to the tune of $700. She did some community service and that was that. That was in 1998.
June 17, 2009. Company bowling party (I didn't attend). Tery called to say she was heading home. She sounded perfectly fine. After an hour or two passed and there was no sign of her I became worried. Tried calling multiple times with no response. Then about 12:30 am she called. She didn't sound fine. She sounded buzzed. And she was at the police station.
I didn't believe her. I even hung up on her (which I often do when I can't stand her slurred speech any longer). A police officer called back a half hour later asking if I wanted to come get her. "Do I have a choice?" I asked wryly. "Sure, you can leave her here. But there will be a fine." I went to get her.
As I drove across town my rage escalated. When I arrived at the station I had to wait about 30 minutes. I shared the waiting room with an overweight elderly woman. She was there to get her son. He was in his 40's as well. Her other son had died in a drunk driving accident (well, had an accident which led to a brain tumor that killed him. She believed, as do I, that sometimes a serious enough accident will shake something loose inside a person that otherwise would lie dormant and harmless). We both agreed we were too old to put up with this kind of thing.
When Tery was finally released to my custody she could barely walk for crying so hard. I delivered my self-righteous speech all the way home. She endured it in silence, because really, what could she say?
The next day she confessed she was far more afraid of me than the cops when she got stopped. That wasn't all. She was depressed, had been for a long, long time. Just recently she had crossed the line into suicidal ideation.
I had no idea. I would always ask her what was wrong and it was always "nothing" or "I don't know." Her talk of suicide scared me. No, it terrified me. I insisted she seek help. She let me try to get an appointment with a therapist (which took a lot longer than you'd think when someone's leaving the message "My girlfriend wants to kill herself. Please, she needs help." I called about six offices before someone called me back).
Bleah, long story short: We got her in to see a therapist, who got her in to see someone who prescribed anti-depressants. Complete change almost overnight. The drugs helped her sleep better, which helped her deal with the stresses at work better. She learned a lot from the therapist. After about a month and a half of sessions, she decided she wanted to join the gym. Regular exercise also helped her sleep better, as well as gave her a great stress release, what she previously used the bar for. She didn't touch another drop of alcohol since her arrest, even ordered me to dump or give away any bottles left in the house (our pot-smoking neighbors Mike and Anna, who she also stopped hanging out with, were thrilled at the windfall).
As of this writing, she's lost 27 pounds, has started drinking protein shakes to help build muscle, and has cut out junk food too. She sleeps every night through and comes to wake me up every morning with a big smile on her face. On her days off she has energy to get things done instead of dozing for 48 hours like she used to. She says she never even thinks about drinking. I absolutely couldn't be prouder of her.
However, unfortunately society wasn't quite done with her. She was going to have a sentencing hearing in a few months. Her therapist said she would probably be required to take alcohol classes, so she signed up right away to show she was voluntarily turning her life around (she says they're a bit of a drag because they force her to think about alcohol, something she otherwise doesn't do. Ironic). She was very anxious about her punishment. She figured she would lose her license for a year. She was also convinced she would get jail time, which I thought sounded a bit harsh considering no one was injured and no property was damaged.
Please understand, I have NO sympathy for drunk drivers. Scum of the earth they are. Inconsiderate, selfish, dangerous. Lock 'em all up and throw away the key. But that applies to the repeat offenders, the ones who return to the bottle at the earliest opportunity after doing their time. The ones who pay lip service to the law only as long as they have to. Tery had learned her lesson. She had truly recognized the destructiveness of alcohol, the insidious way it takes over, and she loves her life without booze too much to ever go back.
But try telling a judge that. She got letters of recommendation from her therapist and her boss. I offered multiple times to write one, but no one cared what I thought, despite me being in the best position to see how much she'd really changed.
So the sentencing was last Friday. I took off work to accompany her -- I had never been inside a courtroom before and was pretty fascinated. Unfortunately I wasn't allowed to take pictures, so instead I did an artist's rendering.
Some details:
The judge was kind of cranky. He had a large LED clock on the bench facing the audience, the only purpose for which I can figure is so we could all be constantly aware of how much of his valuable time we were wasting.
Like these folks, who carried on like they were at a family reunion instead of in a courtroom. I don't know why they were so chipper, from what I heard she was up for multiple DUIs. In fact, she had been on probation since May but "no one told her," so she hadn't done a damn thing about it.
This was their lawyer. He either had a toupee or a really horrible haircut -- 80's mullet -- dyed a dark brown that stopped working with his deeply wrinkled face probably 10 years ago.
I drew hair on this audience member without a head, so on second look it could just as easily be one of the jilted mops from the Swiffer commercials.
There wasn't actually anyone there with shock spikes, but they're really fun to draw.
Let's not forget Tery. I added the ball and chain to create the appropriate air of menace befitting a criminal of her caliber.
The judge went on and on and on about repeat offenders and how he couldn't make anyone stop drinking, they had to do it themselves. He said he considered himself fairly normal and drinking anything above a 0.1 blood alcohol made him terribly sick, so he just didn't know how anyone could drink so much (I wanted to stand and express my shock that he drank that much; compared to myself, I should have been presiding over HIS trial). Tery's lawyer petitioned for house arrest with a "red" license (to and from work only), but he "wasn't a big fan of house arrest" -- thought it was going too easy on people. They had to be taught a lesson and it was up to him to do it. (He delivered this exact same speech to everyone after us from what I heard, so that was an extra special punishment to endure.)
I understand why he has to be this way. I'm sure he gets plenty of people that end up in front of him again and again and again, so now he just believes there's no hope of anyone ever turning their lives around. Which is what makes it so frustrating for me (and Tery), when I know she really truly has.
Tery got 7 days in jail (or 3 weekends (in 8 am Saturday, out 5 pm Sunday) -- I didn't point out to His Honor that 3 weekends didn't equal 7 days), $1000 in fines and 56 hours of community service. Today she got the notice from DMV that her license was revoked for 9 months. This was in contrast to Ryan's boyfriend John, who got a DUI while driving on a suspended license: He got 60 days' house arrest, a buttload of fines and 80 hours' community service. No jail time though. He also got a "red" license after a month, which Ryan assures me Tery can also appeal for.
7 days is better than 10 (which is what she thought was mandatory). Jail time is better than house arrest, since she wouldn't be able to go to the gym on house arrest. 9 months is better than a year (and if Ryan is right, one month isn't so bad at all). She's picked out her prison tattoo (teardrop at the corner of her eye) and walks around humming the theme to "Oz." Which in my book is taking it a lot better than I thought she would. The "weekender program" is booked up until next February, so she has a few months to get used to the idea (she also wouldn't be in with the "general population," there's a special area for the not-really-criminals). What I want to know is who's going to cook me dinner on those weekends? Why am I being punished???
So yeah. A whole lot of ugly that Tery has to go through. But I know she'll come out the other side stronger and better for it. Or does that sound like a well-rehearsed AA sentiment?
Like this.
Everyone may or may not know about Tery's long relationship with alcohol. She never considered herself an alcoholic, whereas I had slightly different standards. She would rarely get "trashed," but there was more than one evening when she'd come home and could barely make it through the front door in a straight line. I was appalled she had driven in that condition. It was our favorite fight for many years. I would scream and yell and belittle her. She would be ashamed enough of herself to behave for a week or two. But she'd always go back.
For anyone who doesn't know, I don't drink. I think liquor tastes vile, and I don't like what it does to people. I think it causes more problems than it solves and I just plain don't understand why people are allowed to poison themselves.
But this isn't about me, it's about Tery. She got arrested once before, caught going the wrong way down a one-way street in downtown Denver. I let her cool her heels in the drunk tank overnight and bailed her out the next morning, to the tune of $700. She did some community service and that was that. That was in 1998.
June 17, 2009. Company bowling party (I didn't attend). Tery called to say she was heading home. She sounded perfectly fine. After an hour or two passed and there was no sign of her I became worried. Tried calling multiple times with no response. Then about 12:30 am she called. She didn't sound fine. She sounded buzzed. And she was at the police station.
I didn't believe her. I even hung up on her (which I often do when I can't stand her slurred speech any longer). A police officer called back a half hour later asking if I wanted to come get her. "Do I have a choice?" I asked wryly. "Sure, you can leave her here. But there will be a fine." I went to get her.
As I drove across town my rage escalated. When I arrived at the station I had to wait about 30 minutes. I shared the waiting room with an overweight elderly woman. She was there to get her son. He was in his 40's as well. Her other son had died in a drunk driving accident (well, had an accident which led to a brain tumor that killed him. She believed, as do I, that sometimes a serious enough accident will shake something loose inside a person that otherwise would lie dormant and harmless). We both agreed we were too old to put up with this kind of thing.
When Tery was finally released to my custody she could barely walk for crying so hard. I delivered my self-righteous speech all the way home. She endured it in silence, because really, what could she say?
The next day she confessed she was far more afraid of me than the cops when she got stopped. That wasn't all. She was depressed, had been for a long, long time. Just recently she had crossed the line into suicidal ideation.
I had no idea. I would always ask her what was wrong and it was always "nothing" or "I don't know." Her talk of suicide scared me. No, it terrified me. I insisted she seek help. She let me try to get an appointment with a therapist (which took a lot longer than you'd think when someone's leaving the message "My girlfriend wants to kill herself. Please, she needs help." I called about six offices before someone called me back).
Bleah, long story short: We got her in to see a therapist, who got her in to see someone who prescribed anti-depressants. Complete change almost overnight. The drugs helped her sleep better, which helped her deal with the stresses at work better. She learned a lot from the therapist. After about a month and a half of sessions, she decided she wanted to join the gym. Regular exercise also helped her sleep better, as well as gave her a great stress release, what she previously used the bar for. She didn't touch another drop of alcohol since her arrest, even ordered me to dump or give away any bottles left in the house (our pot-smoking neighbors Mike and Anna, who she also stopped hanging out with, were thrilled at the windfall).
As of this writing, she's lost 27 pounds, has started drinking protein shakes to help build muscle, and has cut out junk food too. She sleeps every night through and comes to wake me up every morning with a big smile on her face. On her days off she has energy to get things done instead of dozing for 48 hours like she used to. She says she never even thinks about drinking. I absolutely couldn't be prouder of her.
However, unfortunately society wasn't quite done with her. She was going to have a sentencing hearing in a few months. Her therapist said she would probably be required to take alcohol classes, so she signed up right away to show she was voluntarily turning her life around (she says they're a bit of a drag because they force her to think about alcohol, something she otherwise doesn't do. Ironic). She was very anxious about her punishment. She figured she would lose her license for a year. She was also convinced she would get jail time, which I thought sounded a bit harsh considering no one was injured and no property was damaged.
Please understand, I have NO sympathy for drunk drivers. Scum of the earth they are. Inconsiderate, selfish, dangerous. Lock 'em all up and throw away the key. But that applies to the repeat offenders, the ones who return to the bottle at the earliest opportunity after doing their time. The ones who pay lip service to the law only as long as they have to. Tery had learned her lesson. She had truly recognized the destructiveness of alcohol, the insidious way it takes over, and she loves her life without booze too much to ever go back.
But try telling a judge that. She got letters of recommendation from her therapist and her boss. I offered multiple times to write one, but no one cared what I thought, despite me being in the best position to see how much she'd really changed.
So the sentencing was last Friday. I took off work to accompany her -- I had never been inside a courtroom before and was pretty fascinated. Unfortunately I wasn't allowed to take pictures, so instead I did an artist's rendering.
Some details:
The judge was kind of cranky. He had a large LED clock on the bench facing the audience, the only purpose for which I can figure is so we could all be constantly aware of how much of his valuable time we were wasting.
Like these folks, who carried on like they were at a family reunion instead of in a courtroom. I don't know why they were so chipper, from what I heard she was up for multiple DUIs. In fact, she had been on probation since May but "no one told her," so she hadn't done a damn thing about it.
This was their lawyer. He either had a toupee or a really horrible haircut -- 80's mullet -- dyed a dark brown that stopped working with his deeply wrinkled face probably 10 years ago.
I drew hair on this audience member without a head, so on second look it could just as easily be one of the jilted mops from the Swiffer commercials.
There wasn't actually anyone there with shock spikes, but they're really fun to draw.
Let's not forget Tery. I added the ball and chain to create the appropriate air of menace befitting a criminal of her caliber.
The judge went on and on and on about repeat offenders and how he couldn't make anyone stop drinking, they had to do it themselves. He said he considered himself fairly normal and drinking anything above a 0.1 blood alcohol made him terribly sick, so he just didn't know how anyone could drink so much (I wanted to stand and express my shock that he drank that much; compared to myself, I should have been presiding over HIS trial). Tery's lawyer petitioned for house arrest with a "red" license (to and from work only), but he "wasn't a big fan of house arrest" -- thought it was going too easy on people. They had to be taught a lesson and it was up to him to do it. (He delivered this exact same speech to everyone after us from what I heard, so that was an extra special punishment to endure.)
I understand why he has to be this way. I'm sure he gets plenty of people that end up in front of him again and again and again, so now he just believes there's no hope of anyone ever turning their lives around. Which is what makes it so frustrating for me (and Tery), when I know she really truly has.
Tery got 7 days in jail (or 3 weekends (in 8 am Saturday, out 5 pm Sunday) -- I didn't point out to His Honor that 3 weekends didn't equal 7 days), $1000 in fines and 56 hours of community service. Today she got the notice from DMV that her license was revoked for 9 months. This was in contrast to Ryan's boyfriend John, who got a DUI while driving on a suspended license: He got 60 days' house arrest, a buttload of fines and 80 hours' community service. No jail time though. He also got a "red" license after a month, which Ryan assures me Tery can also appeal for.
7 days is better than 10 (which is what she thought was mandatory). Jail time is better than house arrest, since she wouldn't be able to go to the gym on house arrest. 9 months is better than a year (and if Ryan is right, one month isn't so bad at all). She's picked out her prison tattoo (teardrop at the corner of her eye) and walks around humming the theme to "Oz." Which in my book is taking it a lot better than I thought she would. The "weekender program" is booked up until next February, so she has a few months to get used to the idea (she also wouldn't be in with the "general population," there's a special area for the not-really-criminals). What I want to know is who's going to cook me dinner on those weekends? Why am I being punished???
So yeah. A whole lot of ugly that Tery has to go through. But I know she'll come out the other side stronger and better for it. Or does that sound like a well-rehearsed AA sentiment?