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!! 

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The Most Unromantic Movie on V Day

Do you ever remember a movie from years ago? Remember how much you loved the soundtrack? (Seriously- kick ass soundtrack) Remember how it shocked and moved you? 

Then watch it again and realize it’s actually nothing like you remembered? 

I think I was drunk and high the first go round.

So my dad loves weird movies, hence- I’ll usually give them a try. I remember him calling me. You gotta see this movie. It’s so good. A refrigerator goes after an old lady. Uh ok dad, sounds awesome. So I rented it and watched. This had to have been 2002? 

I watched. I remember being intrigued. I still remember that soundtrack! 

Apparently I forgot how bad it was.

A few years later I told my daughter, hey you should watch this movie.

Last night everyone was on their phones. I told my husband I’m going to watch a movie. And there it was, on Netflix: Requiem For a Dream. 

I ran in and told D, hey that movie I wanted you to watch years ago is on. Then told my oldest (she’s days away from 21, so of age….but still.)

I watched the first little bit alone, then he came and sat with me. 

It was a little bit corny, a little more realistic and a lot more terrifying. My husband kept saying uh, you think this is a good idea? Well I gotta finish it now.

And that music…..

If you’ve never seen it, it’s a wild one. Jared Leto, Jennifer Connelly, Ellen Burstyn and Marlon Wayans are people that each plummet into their own addiction hell. The movie is split up into seasons. During the summer they are having a blast, by the next winter…well I won’t spoil it but….

We cringed, I covered my eyes, I was appalled. My daughter watched it in her room so she was about 30 minutes behind our viewing. Uh your dad is really freaked out that I told you about this, maybe you should turn it.

Young adult roll of the eyes. Mom I’m finishing it. Ok well its about to get really bad, so just know it’s been years since I’ve seen it so I didn’t remember it being quite this bad.

Ugh it makes me more grossed out by these kind of people. People acting like they don’t have a choice.  I understand daughter, but you know I feel different. I have a heart for them, but I get it, cause I’m still pissed at my mom, even after all I’ve been through.

She said someone on my FB claims to be an addict. That she shared a post saying addiction is an epidemic, compared it to cancer. It’s not cancer mom. It’s a choice.

Well how about I just tell you how the movie ends? No, I gotta see if he dies in jail….ok then.

I left her alone but was back in her room just as fast. I get it, I see your point. No it’s definitely not cancer. At any time an addict can come to themselves and turn around. No one can just drop cancer. And yes, I can choose to get up and go to mom’s tomorrow, or choose to take care of our home and our business. So you are completely right. But it’s not my choice to be an addict. What would happen if I drank a beer? You wouldn’t stop. 

Right.

Maybe that’s what they mean by no choice? It’s what I would mean. I’d love to sit out by a bonfire and drink with your dad. I’d love to occasionally have some stupid mindless fun. But I make a choice not to because I wouldn’t stop till everything fell apart.

In the middle of it, if you choose the wrong path, you lose your chance to choose. You just can’t see a way out without fighting.

So the movie was horrible (still intriguing!) and made my family uncomfortable. But it opened some dialogue.

At the end I looked at my husband and said and that sir, is why you don’t do drugs.

That soundtrack though! 

Sound

Relapse Can Be a Killa

I haven’t written in months. I’m still a smoker and still not drinking. But I did fall back in with my mom- which led to drugs drugs and more drugs.

I’ve had to start my sobriety clock over. 

Today marks day 9. I pray with everything I have this is it. That that will be my past.

I thought I had it beat. I remember one of my last comments on this blog was: don’t forget bridges need support too. This sentence haunted me.

How does a sane person return to that darkness? Well, I can only state my own case.

My husband and I were arguing alot. When you have 23 years together plus addictions, there’s bound to be a resentment- or 10. 

I thought I had it beat. God had saved me from it all! So surely I could just unwind and hey, I deserve a little fun! 

I was running solely on my feelings. Not considering those change.

The first few times were euphoric. Awesome. Beautiful. Fun. Exciting. Definitely not boring! And of course I controlled it all! Until I couldn’t anymore. It lasted a total of 3 months. By the last day I was so close to death.

I hadn’t showered in a week. Hadn’t ate in God knows how long. Wouldn’t talk to my kids because of the guilt. I was at my mom’s and held to that house with the tightest grip. Maybe that next one would take away the pain.

I was not myself. My husband tells me it’s like another person comes in. I call it demonic. 

He came to my mom’s house twice that day. The first time I wouldn’t leave with him. 

He came back.

Thank God he came back.

I just watched him look at me. I could see this was killing him and just prayed I would die. No one in my own house deserve what I put them through. 

I don’t know what did it, but I got the last I would get from my dad. And I walked out of that house. I don’t remember the ride home. I don’t remember stopping to eat. I blacked out. I do remember throwing up in my yard when I got home. The rest of the night is blank.

The next day was horrible. I cussed my guy up and down for not getting me what I needed. I laid in my bed all day going through bouts of crying, then yelling…I hate you!!! My husband broke and called my mom. You gotta get her something. I don’t have nothing tor her. The last we had were fakes…..

So I have no clue what I ingested the night before. 

I thank God now that I have a husband that made me shower, made me eat and just held me while I cried that last day.

After x amount of hours, I was able to take a sub. I had 2 at home, only 2. Within 45 minutes my head was back. The drug fiend was gone. I called my pharmacy. I had 20 subs still on file.

I used those 20 subs to get as far from that relapse as I could.

Which brings me to today. No subs since last week. I’m more terrified of my parents today than ever. There’s not really an answer on how an addict deals when their parents are their dealer. Believe me- I’ve googled it. Nothing is there.

(Sidenote- this would be my mom and stepdad. I do have my real dad who would like nothing more than to see my parents out of my life. My Daddy’s not perfect, but I’ve never partied with him- thank God.)

Think what you will…judge if you must but this addiction is an active thing in my body I have to learn to attack. 

I’m still filled with hope. I’ve gotten back to my knees in prayer, back to reading my Bible daily, I’ve even been to church. I’ve found meetings that aren’t AA or NA but based on my beliefs. I’m hoping to start that tonight, finally found one in my area.

I’m 39. I had 2 months of total sobriety since I was 19. I was on top of the world. I could handle it. Until I couldn’t. 

I hope and pray to God this gets easier. And that this time I don’t forget what can happen in just 3 short months. 

This last round almost killed me.

For real. What the heck did I put in my body??

Maybe one day I’ll have a lush life. If nothing else, I still hope to help others. If your an addict, our story is the same. I understand you. I feel for you. I grieve for you. I’ll pray for you. My husband says he’s learned more on this subject than he ever wanted to. But still, he doesn’t understand it all. I do. I hope to express it to help people understand.

Lush

I Want To Be The Bridge

Bridge the gap between “normal” people and addicts and alcoholics 

Explain in real words the horror it entails 

I remember being stuck in that spot and literally crying to my husband. please stay, one day I’ll make you proud

All I wanted was to be normal, like you

I hated that I had to depend on a substance to start my day, keep my day going, or another to end my day

I hated that when I was sad, mad, happy, stressed I needed something 

I learned in rehab that an addict needs chaos to function. If we don’t have chaos, we will create it. The more dramatic the issue, the less shame came with drinking. 

I truly believe if you showed a way out to the addicts or alcoholics that are truly tired, they would run for it. If they could overcome their fear and realize there is a life that is better. If you told them, here open this door and walk through to a better life, they would…….if it wasn’t for the fear. 

We aren’t horrible people, we aren’t vicious, we aren’t losers, we aren’t good for nothing. We are people stuck in ourselves. We are human and craving peace. We have feelings and if we haven’t turned cold to the world, we want to be good

Bridge

Transformation

I transformed from a young naive content moma to a person I couldn’t bear to see in the mirror

I transformed from a loving caring wife to being extremely selfish and whiny 

I transformed from a girl that craved her momas attention to that momas party partner

I transformed from a sister that protected her siblings to one that ignored them

I transformed from a cheerful daughter that loved her dad and step dad, to a thief and a manipulator 

I transformed from a college student to a dropout 

I transformed from a best friend to one that chose solitude 

I transformed from a good employee to one that couldn’t finish my tasks

Drugs and alcohol can cause multiple transformations you never even intended

Thank God for answering my prayers during my future transformations

Transformation

Writing Darkness Vs Writing Hope

I want my blog to be a place of hope. A place where someone that was in my spot, may see that hope.

I go back and forth because addiction is so dark. I have many bad memories from my childhood and fast forward to my own parenting, bad was there too.

Do I dump all the darkness here? Or only show  the hope and good?  This is what I’m struggling with.

Being realistic, I’m a tiny one in this blog game. I don’t have thousands of followers and I’m still learning so much. I don’t have goals to make any money with my writing, I only have a drive to share what I’ve found to be good. 

My Bible reading showed me a few things today

1 Peter 3:15

Be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear 

Psalm 119:46

I will speak of the testimonies also before kings and will not be ashamed 

Titus 

3:4 & 7

But after that (sin) the kindness and love of God our Savior toward man appeared that being justified by HIS grace we should be made heirs according to the hope of eternal life

I’ve read somewhere that the word hope is the Bible 129 times. True hope in a hopeless world. That is where it is.  

I’m honest and I let my words just go everywhere when I’m writing. I want to keep it real, but show the light that has been shown to me as well.

Hopefully I’ll be able to walk that fine line of truth and hope in times of complete darkness and depression.

Tiny

To The Moma That Met Jesus Today 

I wrote about you earlier on this little blog I have. I wrote about how I understood you better than you thought. But maybe you knew and you felt the same way. 

I’ve reached out to your son today. He’s got a huge heart. I don’t know your daughter as well, but she is beautiful. 

I’m sorry we weren’t closer, or never pushed past the aquaintance level. But I thought about you often. Did you still drink? Did you wish you could stop? Did you hate yourself everyday? Or maybe you were happy. For some reason, I don’t think that was the case. Not with that look in your eyes. 

Maybe it was just the resignation of who you were. Maybe it was easier to just turn off all emotions from day to day.

I heard after you got sick, you quit drinking. Maybe you had hope that it wasn’t too late. I heard your family took out the boat a few times  and you joined them. I hope you had a blast.

I know you probably thought time was on your side. One day you would quit drinking, one day this hell on earth would end. But I’m sure it was a punch in the gut when you received your diagnosis.

I’m so sorry this has happened today. I’ve grieved for you and for your kids. Your passing will stick with me and I’ll never forget you. I sincerely mean that. 

Your son told my daughter you knew Jesus, so I’m positive you are at peace at this moment. But I wonder if you were angry. Angry to leave your husband. Angry you wouldn’t see your children get married. Or possibly just sad. Sad that you couldn’t change any of  it. 

I know alcoholism. I know that darkness and the loneliness. I know the shame…. it’s such a huge burden to bear. 

But I also know you are home now. I know you are at peace and no longer fighting that battle, or fighting for your life. 

I just wished you’d known there wws a family that thought about you. A family that never judged. A family that was pulling for you. And a girl that always thought she’d have time to connect and reach out. 

Rest in peace JS. I’ll see you when I come home.