Rayanne won’t quit quitting

Rayanne Tait is 20, the youngest of the five women. She is mother to two girls.
She wants to show people she’s not a quitter.
“I was scared (the first time I walked through these doors for treatment.) I didn’t want to come. I didn’t want to leave my kids. And I was scared to withdraw.”
Tait doesn’t make much eye contact, often giving her large dark eyes a perpetual sad look.
“I grew up too fast. After my father passed away, I stopped being a child around 10.”
Tait started smoking cigarettes and she had her first drink of alcohol when she was 12. Then she started taking oxycodone when she was 15.
“I just tried it one day. Someone just came and asked me ‘do you want to buy this?’ ”
At first Tait said no until the dealer told her it was like taking 20 percocets at once – a drug Tait was familiar with, a drug that also contains oxycodone but in smaller doses.
“And I tried it and I got sick and I just kept wanting more and more. And I kept getting more and more.”
Tait doesn’t blame the dealer. She takes responsibility for choosing to take the drug.
And she’s candid about when and how often she used.
“With both of my pregnancies, I was using every day. My first girl was supposed to be born in January and I had her in December. My water broke after I snorted and she was only five pounds.
“I don’t know what I was thinking.”
She looks up at the ceiling for a moment before continuing.
“They didn’t withdraw when they were born but now they seem to always get sick. My oldest has a sty (that) hurts her eye. It always goes red on one side and my other girl has big tonsils and she always gets sore throats.”
Tait believes her children’s health conditions are because of oxys and it feeds her guilt.
Like the other women, Tait spent most of her income on keeping her addiction fed, which meant little was left for her children.
“I’m just thinking about it now and I always thought about myself more – more than my kids. And I would think I’m using them for their money (child-care benefits).
“I don’t want to do that any more.
Her words are tumbling out now, spilling over each other as her voice gets tighter and tighter.
“And I didn’t like calling them names. That’s why I feel so bad.
“And you know how kids would just play?” She doesn’t wait for an answer.
“And they would make a mess and I would get so mad. I’d hit them just for making a little mess and it’s so easy to clean up.”
She stops and takes a long drawn out breath.
“I’ve been a part from my children for six days. I want life to be better for them and if I can’t change it, I’m going to send them to a better home. I don’t want them to go through that again.”
Reflexively she covers her face with her hands and goes quiet.