I Say She Was a Rescue by Katherine Peacock Part 2

Katherine’s daughter Georgia, a budding writer, and Holly.

For I Say She was a Rescue Part 1, click here.

My mom tried several ways to distract me from my pity party. She didn’t approve of my drinking. She didn’t know about the driving. She got me involved in everything from violin lessons to scuba diving certification.

The violin lessons didn’t work. An old soccer injury to my left wrist made holding the neck correctly very painful. Since I couldn’t do it right, I showed up to lessons already buzzed. My teacher was cool, patient. I told her the booze helped me play better. She nodded and smiled. Soon, I just quit all together.

The scuba certification course at the Green Hills YMCA was fun. I didn’t drink on my way to those lessons. I had to get in a pool and hold my breathe for extended periods of time. Can’t do that drunk. The class went to Crystal River, FL for our actual certification. My classmates were just that, classmates. I didn’t make any sort of connection with any of them. I really enjoy scuba but at the time there was one problem. You can’t go scuba diving alone. You need a dive buddy. I didn’t have any dive buddies. So the Crystal river trip was it.

My mother even convinced me to go into therapy. The psychiatrist had me taking three different types of medication. During my appointments, I’d stare at him while he typed away on his keyboard.

“You need to make some friends, Katherine,” he said, wisely

“Yea, no shit. How much is my mother paying you for this?” I retorted.

Therapy didn’t last long.

What I was realizing is that grown up life isn’t preschool. Little kids can run up to each other, ask to be friends, and then play blissfully in the sand box for the rest of the day. Adult friendships take time to develop. Time I didn’t have.

My mom’s suggestions were great, but they were just temporary fixes. And they didn’t really address the problem.

The problem was I felt I had failed at my job, something I really wanted, but I wasn’t sure how I failed at it. I think expectations for me were more than I could deliver. A career I had wanted so badly turned into something I hated. I couldn’t understand why my boss had a bull’s eye on my back. What had I done, or not done, to deserve that sort of relentless bullying? At twenty-three, I had no experience at office politics. I couldn’t deal with the fact that these “adults” were spreading rumors and gossiping about me like high school girls. Life turned into some Roman Coliseum, and the lions devoured me while the crowd screamed their approval. Plus, I couldn’t understand why my boyfriend was cheating on me, even though I had a history of dating losers. Bottom of the barrel losers. I was a magnate for them.

It’s amazing how naive and ignorant I still was nine years ago. Back then, I couldn’t figure out any answers, so I wanted to forget. And I drank to do it. I drank, then I drove and drove and drove. The only time I stayed home was if the gaslight in the Cadillac flashed its hateful yellow warning. On those nights, paying for beer had priority over gas so I’d drink alone in my room. Slipknot was always on repeat in the CD player. Their music was a release for me. The anger I felt was what they played. The ringing in my ears after I finally had had enough was satisfying.

But all that pity disappeared when Holly tumbled into my life. I’m not a religious person, but I truly believe a greater cosmic power sent her to me. She saved me. There was no me anymore. It was US now. She was my sidekick, and we went everywhere together. I didn’t bother with those horrible questions of why anymore. Who gives a fuck?! She didn’t. So, I didn’t either. Holly needed me as much as I needed her. And that’s all that mattered. It’s like my heart busted somewhere along the way. And Holly found it and brought the pieces back to me, all wrapped in a fuzzy, carefree, black package.

Since I wasn’t lonely anymore, the drinking stopped almost immediately. Holly filled the void that I tried to fill with alcohol. She saved me from the downward spiral with a wag of her tail..

Hi. Want to be friends? her wagging tail would say.

Yes I do. I’d reply with a smile. It was that simple with Holly.

Want to play sticks with me? She already had one in her mouth.

Thanks for wanting to be my friend. I’d say.

That’s what I’m here for, she’d reply.