And this one makes me go "wee wee wee" all the way home!
AUSTIN, Texas, July 22, 2010 (AFB) – At first glance, Karen Stone looks like any suburban housewife from the Midwest. But look closer, and you’ll see she is anything but typical. Unless you consider being an addict typical.
Karen is in rehab for abusing fentanyl, cocaine, morphine, Liquid Paper, and Tylenol PM. Even more frightening? Karen is far from alone.
The Austin Fun Blog goes undercover to investigate the ever-increasing trend of moms in rehab. Come along with me on my journey as I try to solve the puzzle of “Why mommy has to go away to rest.”
Yes, I’ll have to feign a drug and alcohol problem so that I can be checked in to a rehab facility by my family, but sometimes the truth, like Karen, doesn’t come easy.
After checking in and having my bags delivered to my lovely semi-private ocean-view room, I sat down with Karen and several other housewives from around the country at a posh rehab facility located just outside of Malibu, California. My mission? To try to understand what would possess a mother to turn to drugs, alcohol, inhalants and yes, even tussins to get through the day, when motherhood should be its own opiate.
Choosing one of the overstuffed leather recliners in the TV room where a group was watching General Hospital, I asked them “What made you turn to drugs and alcohol and stimulants and inhalants and tussins?”
Karen (pausing the show) spoke first. “I’ll tell you what happened. Life happened. One day I was a cheerleader. I had firm thighs and perky breasts. I had my daddy’s charge cards. Next thing I know, I’m wearing clothes from Goodwill, my body is falling apart, my kids are nightmares, and I haven’t eaten at a restaurant without a play land in 11 years. I needed an escape.” The list of drugs that Karen is addicted to is missing only lighter fluid and … no, that’s about it.
Tracy, a tan and fit looking 30-something mom from North Dakota agrees. “Oh,YAH. I agree with ya there, Karen. I gave up everything for my kids and you can bet your bottom dollar that they don’t appreciate it, they don’t respect me, and I finally said ‘Enough!’ You betcha, I did. I uh, I started taking that Oxycodone-contin stuff, all the time!”
Darcie, a pudgy mom from Cleveland, Ohio takes it a step further. “I’ll tell ya what. I actually got so stressed out, I emailed that crazy woman on TV that has the 18 or is it 19 kids?? I offered my kids to her. If she’s that fucking nuts about kids, she can have mine. I haven’t peed without having a kid banging on the door since… I can’t even remember. I haven’t had new shoes for myself in years. I drive all day long to school, from school, piano, baseball, soccer, therapy for the kids. Oh, and I drink. Gallons, every day.”
I had to admit, these ladies had a point. Or seven.
“Ladies, I agree. Parenting, especially mothering, is a thankless job. Sometimes, I take nighttime cold medicine with Pinot Grigio just to keep from beating the children.” Nods all around, some mutter “Yesssssss!” under their breath. I can feel a sisterhood forming here, but it’s time to move on to lunch: gorgeous mounds of tuna salad on bright green beds of lettuce, juicy wedges of watermelon (seedless!), and perfect little chunks of assorted cheeses. There is classical music playing. Softly. Gently.
Scarfing down the first meal I’ve had in years that didn’t fall off my kid’s plate, I asked my tablemates if they missed their kids. “Uh, NO. Well, maybe. But, believe me; I’m a better mom when I get a vacat….er… break… er….”
Jaws drop, eyes widen, and suddenly it becomes crystal clear just what these ladies are doing.
Think about it; Malibu – the beach, group therapy sessions, exercise classes. Massage, manicures/pedicures, swimming pools, movie stars. Someone else shopping for your food, preparing your food, washing the dishes. Uninterrupted peeing. Sleeping all night. All this with an ocean view and your insurance is paying for it because you’re an “Addict.”
Note to the editor: V2, I can see this assignment is going to take a little longer than I had originally expected. Turns out I really do have an alcohol addiction. And stuff. I’ll be in touch. Cybil. (Oh, and I go by “Courtney Winehouse” here if you need to get in touch with me.)
