
Not sure exactly where to start this story. The truth is, as is the case with many addictions, my best friendās addiction has been going on for a long time. Perhaps Iāll start at the present and work my way backā¦
I recently visited my home city, Melbourne, and ironically, my best friend had just come out of a private psychiatric hospital the day I landed. I knew she was in hospital, or at least that she had been back on drugs (which in her case almost always results in hospital), not because swhheād told me, but because sheād stopped communicating with me. Sheād gone āunderground.ā This time sheād been in hospital for a whole month to get off what we call in Australia āiceā but what is technically termed methamphetamine. Sheād also been smoking copious amounts of weed which had become routine enough to be considered an addiction as well. My friend later explained to me that it was the weed that had helped her maintain the appearance of a normal life for many months; at night she would smoke huge amounts of it which would in turn help her get at least 4 hours of sleep. If it werenāt for the weed, due to the ice, she just wouldnāt have slept, and her mom would have cottoned on a lot sooner.
One night while hanging out in our PJs, drinking cups of tea, and watching TED Talks on my laptop on her bed (my best friend is alarmingly wholesome when sheās clean!), I asked her if sheād be OK with me writing an article about her addiction. It was my bestieās suggestion that for the purpose of the article she be called āJessaā since thatās her favorite character on Girls. So Jessa it is.
My friends and I were all wild youngins. When I say wild, I donāt just mean getting wasted on booze and maybe smoking a bit of pot on the weekends. I mean WILD. I mean 2-3 day drug benders (ecstasy, cocaine, MDMA, speed) at least once a week. Iām still not sure how we were able to afford such extravagant indulgences, since we were all students at the time, and, due to our sheer distance from the rest of the world, 1 gram of cocaine alone would cost between $300-$350 in Australia.
Jessa was never a āsocialā person. She was always a little shy and preferred the company of just her two or three closest friends, including her live-in boyfriend at the time. Residing with her mom, instead of heading out to all the parties, Jessa preferred to get up to the same kind of juvenile mischief in the comfort of her home.
It was when we were both about 24 and I was living in Sydney having recently finished studying, that I noticed something was askew. I was back in Melbourne for few weeks and rocked up on her doorstep with a bottle of red wine and a packet of ciggies. Jessa was still with the same boyfriend, and while their relationship was evidently co-dependant (bordering on dysfunctional) they were both a hoot and howl to get silly with. But progressively, when weād have these āred wine nightsā, things started to turn not so fun anymore. Jessa would become drunk. Really drunk. And our once innocent revelling turned dark. For instance, one night, my boyfriend at the time was also in town with me and we were all out at a bar. Another āred wine nightā. Jessaās boyfriend was ready to leave, but Jessa, never ready to call it a night, insisted on staying. It turned into a public blowup whereby Jessa, who, as we would say in Oz, was āpissed off her titsā, began ridiculing him so as to shoo him away. Her boyfriend was no back number and grabbed the closest pint of beer he could find, splashing the entire contents over her face. Suffice to say, Jessa still didnāt leave the bar with him.
But these kinds of public antics were mild compared to the emotional episodes that began occurring. Weād all be running an innocent muck when Jessa would at some point have cornered one of us, usually my boyfriend or brother or some nurturing male figure in the group, and begin pouring out her troubled heart. Like a flooding sewerage dispenser, it was as if once sheād removed the valve, her grief was never ending. These episodes would inevitably result in her boyfriend and then her mom obsessively calling her phone and then my phone to find her. This ārunning awayā thing was becoming a pattern.
Then, Jessa disappeared on me.
And what I wasnāt aware of at the time was that Jessa, my best friend in the entire world, would continue to disappear on me for the entire remainder of our 20s.
She had finally been diagnosed an alcoholic with severe depression and was admitted to a private medical clinic for psychiatric treatment and rehabilitation.
Itās been about 7 years since then. Iāve lost count of the amount of times sheās disappeared, every time swallowed up by her addiction. Sometimes many months have gone by, entire visits home to Melbourne, and I wont have heard a word. I would call and call tirelessly, painfully, leaving messages begging her to answer the phone or call me back and to remember that āitās me! Iām not gonna judge you. I love you!!ā And every time it would result in a phone call from her mom or a text message from her finally telling me that sheād gone back into hospital.
Sadly, once Jessa had conquered alcoholismāshe was dry for nearly 2 yearsāthe seduction of meth encroached on her, and for the last 3 or 4 years, she has been battling it out with the devil.
Itās really hard loving an addict. They continue to let you down in ways you would never have imagined. The lying, the cheating, the hiding. But for me, the worst part is the absence. Thereās a reason I call Jessa my best friend. Itās because she is truly the most beautiful, loving human being to have ever graced my life. Sheās one of those people whoās blessed with a gift at communicating with children and animals. Her heart literally ribbons across the globe to wherever I am in the world, sending me her support, love, non-judgement, and always always always, selflessly rooting for me.
So when Iām confronted by Jessaās cruel absence, when sheās trailing the sewers and sleeping with drug dealers, I feel I have lost a limb. Too many years I have mourned for my best friend.
Thankfully, Jessa is in a better place now than she has been for a very long time. And we spent much of my recent visit back home laughing about the various characters in her addiction support group and playfully scrolling through a drug addicts forum that she engages with from time to time.
For someone who has walked through the muddiest of waters, she sure does possess an abundance of light.