Cocaine Christmas
I never gave much thought to fixing my problem until it was all too late. It all came to grief on Christmas Day but don’t say that it’s all my blame – no, I won’t listen to that kind of talk. Who was the one who wanted designer gear for the kids, private school and even a pony. Who said they didn’t mind if I worked away from home, fly in fly out – no problem – we had to keep focused on the “benefits of education and social connection” for our kids, and a non-playing membership of the local golf club for entertaining friends.
These jobs that keep you away from home compensate you well – sure it was a dry ship we were on – but the food was superb, in house entertainment up with the best, a gym, a sauna and clothes were laundered daily.
Was always a bit of a culture shock to walk back in the door of our family home – you don’t expect perfection with three kids under 8, but it was a perfect mess. How the wife got the kid’s breakfasts – got them out the door to school, with all their gear and homework done, all perfectly dressed and groomed is beyond my understanding.
I got into going down to the club and having a few drinks – got in with the sort of bar-flies that seem to live their lives in clubs, don’t seem to have regular jobs. This started to cause rows at home – not so much about me going out – but about me wasting money. There were things to fix around the home – surely I could fix things up when I was home, instead of her having to pay out money to tradesmen. I sort of thought I’d compromise, and divided my time 50/50 between doing chores and drinking at the club.
Then it turned out that some of the guys at the club were going to Vegas, at a time when I would be off work and normally would come home. Said I would join them for a few days, couldn’t see any problem.
Tried to think of a way to tell the wife, but decided in the end less said soonest mended – and anyway, thinking about the trip had made me feel the happiest I’d been for months – why spoil it.
The wife fell for the overtime bit – great she said, more money – and I was off to Vegas.
Well, I don’t know how other people go on when they get to a place like Vegas – a town with no public clocks, that is like a giant fantasy – except that you are really in it. My mates from the club had good connections – really knew how to party – and yes, I have to admit there were girls, but not until well into the trip and only after one young minx had suggested that I try coke – it is real powerful stuff.
Vaguely I came to a recollection that it was time to pack my bag, time to fill in the rest of my break – back home and doing chores. I decided to stay on.
Once I was safely back at sea – I’d call my wife, tell her I’d worked right through.Too easy!
As I approached my next leave home, it became easier and harder – harder to go back home, easier to go back to Vegas. The wife was happy enough it seemed, anticipating more money. Back in Vegas, I relaxed, got into the gaming and the lifestyle. Third time I did this – I missed the time to get back to my hometown, and then fly up to the rig. I got back to work, just in time by using a direct flight.
Personnel called me in, asked if there was trouble at home – I said none that I knew of. They said to let them know, as leave could be arranged, and counselling if required. It made me think it might look better if I stayed at home next leave.
My wife was happy to see me, she had run up a little bill at the local department store on their in-house credit – could I fix a monthly debit on my account to cover it. For the first time in months, I went into my study, got onto my internet banking. I felt a sort of fear, a rising panic as I saw that the amount left in credit, in my account, wouldn’t even cover next months mortgage payment. Let alone the next term school fees.
I wanted escape, I wanted coke, I wanted to get back to the rig. I’d had a few wins in Vegas, where had all the money gone.
The break passed by in a haze of suffering, I badly needed some coke – there was nothing between me and the wife except her wondering why I wasn’t eating, why she had to stop spending money, why I was morose.
I suppose I could have got through, if only I had stopped using coke and got back to normal living. Ok, Vegas was off limits but I ended up buying coke down at the club – saw it as a consolation.
And so it took another year before reality set in. I’d re-financed with my bank, paid off various debts, happily went in again just before Christmas, to get another increase, only to be told that on my income I was now at the limit of my credit.
And so in our lavish home, there was no credit for Christmas presents, no money for food on the table.
Only enough money in my wallet to pay for a line of coke – it was my consolation.
