Past

The other night I had a dream that I fell off the wagon (in my dream I was drinking). I often have these dreams. The term euphoric recall is something I learned about after I first gave up drinking. Euphoric recall is something a person who has quit something addictive does. During Euphoric recall one remembers all the good times had while getting plastered---- like enjoying drinks with friends on a beach or something. I experience euphoric recall frequently---especially while watching other people getting hammered. I remember all of the good times I had while drinking and I forget about all of the terrible things that happened while drinking. I think the dreams I have are messages sent from somewhere far away; to remind me why I quit.

In the dream I had the other night, I was babysitting some one's child. While babysitting, I was sitting on a deck visiting with some of my girlfriends, drinking margaritas. While I was visiting with my friends, I decided to give the little girl I was babysitting a haircut. I cut the little girl's hair to look exactly like my baby Owen's hair. The mom of the little girl came into the picture as my friends and I were talking about the haircut and how it had turned out (keep in mind that Owen hardly has any hair at all). This mom was ticked. She yelled at me, then everyone else in my dream started to yell at me. I couldn't understand what all the fuss was about, I thought the haircut seemed like a great idea.

After having a dream like this I wake up in a sweat. I wake up like I used to wake up, after a real night of consuming a mass amount of alcohol. I am panicked, thinking about all the people I had angered. It takes me a few minutes before I realize that what I had just experienced, was yet again, a dream. When I discover that it was a dream, I am relieved and all of the many reason's I quit drinking are again remembered.


(In real life)-- I was 19 years-old. I was at a Johnny Holm Band concert. A woman came up to me and asked me if I had been drinking, I screamed " YES, Dah!". She then said,"Come with me, I want to show you something." I said, "Okay! YAY! A new friend!". I was then led to a lobby and read my rights. She was a cop. I was thrown into the back of a cop car. I was escorted to Cass County Jail. It was the second time I had been in a Cass County jail cell in a month. I hate jail. One of the only memories I have from jail that night (after the Johnny Holm Band concert), was the cops making me put on blue slip on shoes, which I told the cops over and over again, I didn't want wear, because I did not want to get athlete's foot. My poor parents--I had to get cash somewhere--getting bailed out of jail is not cheap.

Living in the Fargo/Moorhead area was a huge nightmare. I moved there when I was 19 and was in over my head as soon as I got within the city limits. Until, recently I hated Fargo. I hated Fargo, because all I could remember from that town were those stupid jail cells and my awful roommate. Now, I understand that I don't have to hate Fargo, after all the cops were just enforcing the law, which I had broken repeatedly.

I should have left with my dad the minute we walked into my tiny dorm room at Minnesota State University Moorhead. I remember my roommate walking into our room with her bags like it was yesterday. She was a senior.....yes, a senior. When my new roommate was pulling out all of her Star Wars paraphernalia, I should have taken that as sign of what was to come. It wasn't long before her CD player was blasting the musical tunes from "The Lion King". Hey, I love the "The Lion King" as much as the next person, but blasting it in a dorm room took it to a whole new level. I remember when my dad did start to leave, I followed him out crying. He kissed the top of my head--he didn't tell me everything was going to be okay. I am sure my father didn't tell me everything was going to be okay, because he was there to witness my roommate put a rubber glove on her head and bak like a chicken. I am not going to lie--my roommate was a bad person. For instance, Sept 11th, 2001, the World Trade Centers had just fallen, I like the REST of the world was glued to the TV, captivated by the heinous events that had just taken place. My roommate walked into our room, rolled her eyes, and said, " Not to be cold hearted or anything, but why all of this coverage, I am missing all of my favorite shows.". She was a loon. I still blame her for my going to jail. My roomie was a published author (at the age of 12). She would sit on her bottom bunk bed with her lap top glued to her lap. I swear, after every move I made, she would type something. I was paranoid. I thought she was writing a book about me. She hated me. I got so paranoid about her and her typing that one day while she was at class, I took the lap top which, I noticed she had left on her desk, and I tried to find a document titled, "My Roommate, Sarah". I didn't find a document named such, so I hurried and replaced the computer where she had left it. A while later she came back from class, and it was only seconds before she asked me if I had been "monkeying around with her lap top device", her exact words---not mine. I know my roommate sent me over the edge. One day my residence supervisor told me that I needed to find a new place to live, because my roommate didn't like me. She DIDN'T LIKE ME! Thankfully, I found a new place to live with another girl down the hall. I lasted all of one semester at Minnesota State University of Moorhead.

Events such as those listed above are times that were not so peachy. I am thankful for each and every experience I have had in life. I am thankful that I am able to make choices that don't LAND ME IN JAIL anymore! I am thankful that I never have to see that roommate again.