I began to scour the papers for a job and answered an ad from a dental office in search of a manager. I made the call and much to my amazement, they were interested in meeting with me. I was hired on the spot with virtually no questions asked about my work history. I was ecstatic.

Yes, I had plumped up again, and my teeth also started aching and bothering me quite a lot. I had free dental care, so one afternoon I was given a free exam. The troubled areas were fixed, but the doctor—my boss—had to end up giving me Vicodin. I could work twice as hard, twice as long, and was able to go hours without eating. Another added “benefit” to this drug was that I could feel high without having a hangover. The feeling Vicodin gave me was euphoric but it didn’t fix my life. I seemed to drift from one day to the next— collecting my paycheck—I was going through the motions of living, not feeling much of anything about life.

“Black cloud” found out where I worked. I was lonely and his voice was very enticing. I talked with him a couple of times but felt very strange inside after hanging up the phone, as if something was very wrong. I mulled him over in my mind for several weeks, talking with him three times and then thought to myself, “What are you doing?” This man literally destroyed your life. Are you going to let him creep back in again? The very next time he called, my heartfelt emotions about him finally came out and I blasted him with the truth of what he had done to me and my daughter. Before I hung up, I made sure to tell him never to call me again. I knew he was sick and he was never coming near me or my daughter again. That was that.

I established a payment method in the dental office for patients to be able to pay on credit, and the dentist was very pleased. I started trying to collect unpaid, old debts he had, and I sent out letters notifying customers of due balances. I believed that was a part of managing the office efficiently.

He came into work several weeks later and said he wanted to see me after work. I went into his office and sat down. He said he had customers calling him at home complaining about the letter that I had sent them. He said I was ruining his business, so he handed me a check for two weeks’ salary and let me go. I had been there about five months, and frankly, I was relieved. For some reason, I had dreaded going to work there every day. I felt lost, scared, and lonely, and I wondered what I was going to do next.

I had become friends with a patient from the dental office who worked for a huge insurance company. She had been tugging at me for weeks to come and interview where she worked, so I called her up. I was given an interview and hired the very same day.

XXXXX

Health care—now that was something different. I settled in quickly to my new job. I had my own cubicle which was situated in front of my friend. My duties included answering anywhere from sixty to one hundred phone calls a day, helping customers resolve medical claims, and answering any questions they had. I liked helping people, and since this only involved phone work, it gave me an opportunity not to have to confront people face-to-face. I felt I had always had to be “on.” Doing this gave me a break in order to regroup mentally. Occasionally, a customer would come in requesting to meet me for being so kind and professional to them on the phone. My reviews were good, and my employers liked me. I was able to go in and do my work without anyone bothering me. I felt like a wounded puppy that needed to be soothed. I managed to keep my exterior façade, but a façade was exactly what I was putting up… How had I gone from managing a 53 million dollar bank to doing clerical work, barely able to survive?

My friend and I were able to converse anytime during the day, and we became rather close. She was lonely and wanted to have a man to love. We decided one day that the next time Dara was with her dad, we would go out on the town dancing. Besides, where else do you find a man? What harm could one night possibly do? Time to lose some weight!

The Mr. Hyde in me couldn’t just settle for one night—oh, no. I started going out every weekend Dara was with her dad.. I never drank at home, but when I went out—that was a different story. I would get fixed up to the nines and hit the bar. I drank until I couldn’t speak, and my friend always made sure I got home safely. Most of the time, I would argue with her that I was perfectly fine to drive, so she would reluctantly hand me my keys and watch me drive off into the sunset. I would drive home with one eye closed to resolve the double vision I had, and somehow, I would make it home unscathed.

We were at work one day after having a wild Saturday night. She looked at me intently, telling me first that she was my friend, and then she said, “I have something to tell you that you might not like.”

I took a deep breath, sighed, and said, “Go ahead.” I couldn’t imagine what she had to say. What had I done now?

She said, “You are a sloppy drunk, and I am not going to go out with you again until you stop.”

Well, I thought, the nerve of her! Who did she think she was anyway?

I was finally being called on the carpet for my behavior. It was as if someone had taken an ice-cold bucket of water and dumped it on my perfect façade, my perfect figure—I had gotten small again—my perfect hair, perfect makeup, and my perfect little imagination. I stopped drinking, almost cold turkey. We went out a couple more times together, and when we did, I really didn’t drink a lot. I was amazed at how different everything appeared when I was sober.