Yesterday I received a letter from my lawyer asking for $9,000 and advising that my BAC for my DWI 2nd was 0.125.

Standing outside of my apartment reading the letter, I felt as if Freon was coursing through my veins.  I was cold, shaky, and honestly shocked.  I entered the apartment after a few moments in the passageway.  My husband, who was finally home after 2 1/2 weeks on a rig, was blissfully unaware of my emotional state, was cheerful as usual as he did the dishes.  I tried to maintain my composure for his sake.  I failed.

I went into the bedroom and shut the door, then cried as if I had lost a loved one.  It actually hurt.  My jaw is still twitching today, nearly 16 hours later.

He wants to understand what is going on in my mind, and I want to tell him.  In order to do so, I must understand it myself.  There is a mosaic of emotion in my mind, and the part of glass which catches the most sunlight is the color that shines through, even if it’s the not shade I wish to focus on at the moment.  This leaves with the monumental task of controlling the sun.  Here goes nothing…

1. The first thing I feel is ANGER.  I am angry at myself for being so dumb, for ruining my career for an insignificant night with people who are not even my real friends.  I feel angry at the smug officer who arrested me.  I feel angry with the justice system for not adjudicating my case despite it occurring over a year ago.  I feel angry at the Texas Board of Law Examiners for denying my licence for a mistake I made even though I am paying the price for it every single day.  I feel angry at my friends and family for sweeping my addiction under the rug (and even encouraging it sometimes) instead of giving me the slap in the face I needed.
2. I feel HOPELESS.  I lost hope in getting a law license in Texas and Oklahoma. I lost hope in getting a job that will pay my bills.  I lost hope in even getting an hourly job for which I am overqualified and underpaid because I can’t pass a background check.
3. I feel FEAR and ANXIETY.  If I can’t be a lawyer and I am limited in other job options, I will not be able to pay my bills.  I have 5K in credit card debt and 200K in student loan debt.  My money will go to bills and court fees while I empty my savings and drown in interest.  In 5-7 years, when my background will be less of an issue, I will be near 40, and I don’t know that I will still be sharp enough to convince anyone that I deserve a second third chance.
4. I also feel SHAME.  I see my friends celebrating success in their careers while I am working as a part-time envelope stuffer.  I wonder what I will tell my kids about my life.  I wonder who knows about my history and what people are saying behind my back.  I feel ashamed to spend time with my professional friends who didn’t fuck everything up for themselves.  How do I explain to them that I put myself in mental and professional catharsis?
5. I feel LONELY.  I don’t associate with other criminals, so there is not a single person in my life who can understand what I am going through.  I can tell people how I feel, and they will nod and sympathize and tell me everything is going to be OK.  But, maybe it won’t.  I know that, but they can’t possibly know.  Maybe my life really is on hold and it will continue to be miserable for the foreseeable future.  I am not a pessimist, but the truth is not always caked in glitter.
6. I feel like a FRAUD.  When I was in law school, I was always terrified.  I kept fighting, studying, working…but on the inside, I was so self-conscious.  I thought everyone else had their lives together, that they were sure of themselves and the path they chose.  I was a kitten among lions, just waiting for someone to see right through me.  I still feel that sense of inadequacy and I simply don’t know why.  I have the brains and the talent, but something is preventing me from executing.  It was, at least. Now my pending trial has all but made me completely abandon all hope to chase my 24-year-old dream of being an attorney.
7. I feel spectacularly UNMOTIVATED.  I don’t care about my looks, my cooking, reading, writing, keeping the house in order, setting personal goals – I don’t care about anything.  I wake up, do what I have to do for the day, then retreat into myself.  I numb my mind with hookah and TV.  I avoid talking to friends and family and even my husband.  I have no sex drive.  I have no joy.  Living like this is not living, but I don’t have the fight in me to change it anymore.

How does one re-invent themselves at 29?  What I always wanted is no longer an option, and so many doors of possibility are now closed.  And it’s all my fault.  I carry concrete bricks on my shoulders everywhere I go.  Before, I was hanging onto the glimmer of hope that I would have a low BAC and be found not guilty.  Now, that seems foolish.  The hopelessness I feel in this case is leaking into other parts of my life.

I know I have to change.  What I am doing isn’t fair to myself nor those around me. But how?  How do I pick up all these broken pieces when it hurts to get off the couch?  Others turn to faith, but I have none.  I loathe AA for all the false hope its attendees have. I can’t afford therapy.  Saying “no” and “I can’t” constantly is cancerous to the mind, but how do I convince myself otherwise?

My mental decline has affected my physical health as well.  I am always tired.  I broke my wrist 6 months ago and it simply didn’t heal.  I got my first-ever bladder infection.  My cramps have intensified.  I am prone to headaches and nausea.  I was always so strong, healthy, and energetic until about one year ago.  Now I am a roll of dough, absorbing every knead.  Fuck, how did I let this happen?

I don’t really know how to end this entry.  I should end with some resolution to change or some promise to myself that I will stop this selfish behavior and be the best person I can despite my circumstances.  I can’t do that this time.  I don’t know if someday I will laugh about this period of my life or look down from some high-rise office and remember when I through I couldn’t do it.  But for now, the score is Life: 1, Amber: 0.

****Not part of my diary entry, but I though it important to note here that I am not looking for sympathy, condescending remarks, or affirmation. I am using this blog as an outlet and if anything good comes out of it, it should be to help people like me in knowing that they are not alone in these battles.  Thanks.   -A