Jefferson County Stories
Kimberly
I was 11 years old when I first got high with my cousin. We would go to school high, yet I still somehow managed to top out in track & keep my grades up. I set the record for the mile because I had a coach who believed in me. I loved to learn. My daddy was deprived of an education by his father who was also an addict. I was in sixth grade reading on a high school level. I got my first taste of speed & Old Crow from under my daddy’s dresser. I partied with other cousins’ very resourceful relatives. My daddy’s mom was a good Christian woman, but she was addicted to nerve pills. On Aug. 11, 1979 my world started changing! My Mamaw, the woman I admired & loved most in this world, died. I kept getting high to cover up the pain of losing Mamaw because it hurt so bad. I lost my virginity at age 13 to one of my brother’s older friends. My daddy’s younger brother raped me, but I didn’t tell daddy out of fear he would hurt him. My first cousin tried to molest me. My world was falling apart. Life isn’t supposed to be this way at age 13. My mom and I weren’t ever close. She abused me. I wanted my Mamaw back. She and daddy were always my support system. If she knew what was happening to me she’d help me. On Friday June 13, 1980 the biggest blow of my life came! My cousin and I were out partying with some friends. We were drinking and smoking pot. Our last words to each other weren’t I love you. They were “party hard.” It was around 10:00 p.m. when the ambulance went by with sirens screaming. The sheriff called my daddy and told him my mom’s brother’s oldest daughter was dead. That was my cousin’s older sister. We went to the hospital and a friend of mine came up to the van to ask me if I was okay. I said “yes I need to go check on my cousin’s older sister.” My friend said, “Kim, your cousin is dead.”
My world literally stopped. The walk up to the hospital seemed forever. The cousin that was more like a sister to me was gone forever. The face that was so beautiful with the biggest brown eyes you’ve ever seen and a smile that would light up a room was no more. She was just 14 years old. This wasn’t supposed to happen. We had so much planned to do together. She loved horses, the color green, things with smiley faces on them but most of all she loved me.
We knew each other like a book. I sat outside that night begging God to bring her back to me. A few months after her death I swallowed a bunch of pills. I wanted to die. My mom wouldn’t sign to get me therapy and my daddy didn’t know how. I continued on a downhill binge. I stayed high on anything to keep from hurting. I was mad at God for taking her and mad at everyone for being happy without her. Sadly enough life went on. I stayed high just to stay in a relationship. I went from one relationship to another.
Thank God I didn’t lose my baby. On Feb. 15, 1986 my son was born, and it was absolutely the happiest day of my life! I delivered him on a Saturday via natural childbirth and went back to work on that Monday because I had no choice. I stayed clean and worked two jobs to provide for us.
I’m determined to stop this multi-generational addiction through my grandchildren. I’m speaking out. I work with addicts and their families. On August 2, 2018 another big blow hit me hard. I’ve seen many overdoses, but the hardest was on this day. My cousin’s younger brother had been at my house two weeks earlier and I thought to myself it was no use in saying anything to him. A relative then called to tell me he was dead. I went over to my aunt’s house. She had lost another child. I was numb. I cried tears, but I was numb. His funeral service was at the same place my other cousin’s was. I watched my cousin’s two sons cry. His Mom cried. His sister and I put a rose on him, but we both were so mad at him for leaving us. The sad thing is I know my story isn’t finished, but I’m going to keep doing what I’m doing by sharing my story and more until my last breath.