Working On Forgiving

Texted this to my mom today. I’m not ready to talk on the phone, or go see her, but I couldn’t ignore her another year. 

I’m trying to forgive her. I’m learning that is a process too. I heard, this week, that the process is a lot like an onion. Once you have 1 part forgiven, another layer will appear and that 1 needs work too. I’m trying. Here’s my text:

I’ve said before Satan is so good at what he does. He has the ability to drown you in bad memories. This is one way he has my moma bound. It can happen to the best of us!

Sometimes you have to force yourself to remember the good times, and I hope she can do this!

I’m so thankful for my moma! We have plenty of awesome memories together, and I’d like to thank her for that! 

I remember:

The Mickey Mouse cake she slaved for days decorating with 10000900 swirls.

The late night she stayed up (or got up really early) to make sure I had my New Kids on the Block tickets.

The times she took me to church. 

Even that time I didn’t want to go, so I had my best friend “accidentally” leave her shoes at her own house. Obviously my friend couldn’t go to church shoeless. And since she was my guest, I’d just have to stay home with her. Nope. Didn’t work. Mom said fine, none of us will wear shoes. New church visiting with no shoes. 

The time D, me and 4 other friends “surprised” her during a Florida vacation by showing up to their RV in the middle of the night. We were all underage. Moma put our room (that we paid for) on her credit card, and never even yelled when we wrecked it. 

The time she laughed instead of screamed when my cousin and I drew, with chocolate cookies, all over motel sheets. They were completely ruined. 

How hard she laughed at PeeWees Big Adventure. And laughed even harder when the family had that fun night with egg carton eyes. 

That she was with me every time I gave birth. And that she went and bought $200 worth of Captain D’s after I had C. Just because I had a craving.

The way she’s loved Derrick since their first meeting. 

The way she ignored all the smacktalk when we were getting married. 

The way she cared about my friends. 

The day D, me and the kids kidnapped her, broken leg and all, and she had a blast. We took her to Little White House, a place she always wanted to go. She was able to ride the scooter for people with disabilities. I’m pretty sure it was the time of her life. 
And so many more!!!
Despite all of OUR careless actions, we all KNOW YOU have the biggest heart. I love you moma. 
Your MY moma and I wouldn’t trade that for anything in this world!! 


Fears From My Addiction

I was trapped in my own skin. There wasn’t a place more terrifying. It was dark and lonely, even though my home was full of people. They all looked at me with confusion. Just put it down. Just stop my husband would say.

Everything I did revolved around my goods for the day.
My mind would race, if I just stopped how would my life go? How would I do anything I enjoyed sober?

How would I
Listen to music, go on vacation, take care of my kids, have the drive to do anything,  be funny, enjoy a bonfire, spend time with my husband, surf the web, stay up all night, go to a concert, watch my husband grill, brush my teeth, take a shower, cook, clean, talk on the phone, text anyone, leave my house?
Would sex still be as good?
How could I just be, without my drugs?

It seems silly now looking back. I’ve done most of these things sober and it’s more enjoyable. I can remember what I’ve said and done. I don’t have to spend countless hours searching for a pill to start my day. I don’t have to think of a new way to talk my husband into drinking with me. And I wake up every morning with no shame.

I used to cry all those questions to my husband. But most of all I’d ask him what if you don’t like me sober? What if I’m boring?

Sometimes I still feel bad he doesn’t have a wife that can drink one beer and hang out. He tells me this is silly.

And for the record, sex is way better. And I’m not boring. I’m a pretty neat person. Where I’ve come from doesn’t hold a candle to where I am today.

I can’t be the only addict that had these crazy fears and thoughts.

Daily Prompt: Candle

Clumsy Rainey

I used to think Rainey was clumsy. Later I realized her issues were way more serious.

Yearly she had some major surgery. If you look at her body now, she could show you a map of scars from her favorite doctor. In between the surgeries, there were burns, cuts and broken bones. A car wreck messed up her teeth, a horse accident cost her her spleen, her appendix had to go, the pet pitbull ran into her and caused a broken leg.

How could so many accidents happen to just one person? How many surgeries does one human need?

Apparently the need for more trips to the hospital coincided with the amount of pills left in the drawer.

I grew up feeling pity for my mother. Poor thing, she needs to lie down, she is tired. It’s not until I was a grown up, caught up in my addiction beside her, that I realized what I had seen all my life. I’d seen an addict getting her fix. I’m not saying every fall or trip was on purpose, but I’ll never believe in so many accidents for one life.

If you talk to Rainey now, she is an eternal victim. Her kids are mean, because they won’t talk to her. Her husband is mean because he doesn’t make his kids come over. Her body hurts and her friends keep stealing her drugs.

I wonder if Rainey could do it all over again, if she would stay clumsy. Or maybe she would wisen up and be more careful.

Daily prompt:Clumsy