Scary trip to the Emergency Department.

Last night I was taken to the Emergency Room by ambulance. I do not know what happened and neither do they. Lovely. I was suddenly struck with the most intense pain in my upper stomach. I was immediately doubled over, screaming and crying. They got here in minutes, but it felt like hours. The bumpy ride to the hospital was torturous as well.What a spectacle to be put into an ambulance screaming in front of your house.

They tried several different types of pain medications with only brief buffering of the pain. Then I got an antacid/numbing "cocktail" that only made me freak out cause I couldn't feel myself swallowing. Morphine was next and it helped about 25%, but brought with it nausea and vomiting. Then came anti nausea medications.

A CT scan showed up nothing. (the half gallon of liquid I had to drink for it really made my stomach pain bad) Blood tests showed up nothing. I asked them for the one test that has worked many years ago when I had hernias from my gastric bypass. This was also the only similar pain I have ever had to what I was experiencing last night. They said that it is not an emergency procedure they provide. WTF. I know this hospital is not exactly gastric bypass knowledgeable, but I had no choice in going there. I have no insurance and so I  could not possibly ask to be transferred to the hospital where my surgeon is, where I could get the test I needed.

Finally they gave me sleeping medicine and dilaudid.  My pulse ox showed I was having problems with not breathing so they did a sleep study. Because of all the meds I do not remember what I was told while being discharged.  Bryson's little sister came and got me. Somewhere along the way I lost my shirt and had to come home in my pants and hospital gown and it was like 5 below zero last night.


Now I am sick and nauseated and all they did was give me meds to treat the symptoms. pain meds and anti nausea meds. Thanks for costing me thousands and thousands of dollars and refusing to do the one test that could have helped. Now I REALLY feel nauseated.

"Shawna'a Christmas Meth Carol" Part III ~Ghost of Tweaker Future

(Trigger Warning~ this is a warning that is very raw as it relates to drug use and suicide)



This is the most painful and frightening of all of my ghostly experiences. Tonight a talk dark demonic type apparition, pulls me suddenly from my slumber, and throws me through my bedroom wall. When I open my eyes I see no one, no thing, it is dark. I feel his cold ugly breath upon me.

I hear the sound of a projector, clicking and reeling from somewhere behind me. Before my eyes, begins the story of.....


There I am walking out of jail. My kids are not there to meet me, they are not allowed to see me until CPS can analyze my situation. What situation? I am homeless, jobless, and have just gotten out of jail. I have no money at all. No one ever came to visit me or put money on my books in the three years I was in jail.

Next thing, I am in the basement of my ex's cousin. The one that started making illegal checks. The one that stole people's identities. The only one that would answer my collect call. I am crying and then I see the pure evil he is holding. The loaded glass pipe. Please tell me I don't do it, please! 

I do it. I can't believe my eyes. I cry, I inhale, the room is filled with that wretched meth stench and smoke overwhelms the scene. It fades away and I see myself alone in a ratty motel room. There are burns on the comforter, the table, the floor. It is disgusting. I try to call the kids. My grandma reminds me that she is court ordered to keep them from talking to me until I have somewhere to live and CPS approves it. She says if I call one more time she is going to report me. I hear them talking in the background. It kills me inside.

All the shelters are full. I only have the backpack and few clothing items that I got at the Community center, and my motel voucher for this place runs out tomorrow. I don't even know what happened to Bryson. He went to jail when I did, but he was only the co defendant. He had much less charges and he got out before me. He was not allowed to contact me since we committed the same crimes together. No one else that we knew together is still in the same place. Most of them are in jail or prison.

I feel hopeless. I am in pain. I am depressed. I can't afford anymore drugs. I do not want my kids to see me like this ever. How can I ever stop? How can I go on in the pain I am in? I cannot afford anything to kill myself with.

 I see myself roll out of the bed and almost slither to the ground. I look like I am in so much pain. I crawl on all fours to the table and chair. I switch on the light and grab the chair to pull myself up. I grab a pen and begin writing.


This is what I write:

Ive been here too long. Ive already spent more days here than I should have been allowed and my time has come. Destin and Aliviya…. I never should have brought you into this world knowing how I felt about myself. I thought that having kids was the answer to all my problems. I thought that kids would love me and give me what I never had. It isn’t your fault. You are the best kids anyone could ever ever ask for. You gave me the best memories I could have imagined. You taught me what love really is. You showed me that to really love someone you have to give of yourself and not expect back. You have to love from your whole self and expect nothing. I wish I was capable of that. Maybe in another lifetime…. Maybe if my mom was here to love me and give me that wholeness inside I would be able to stay with you and give it to you. 

You are probably going to feel like I’m selfish and that I don’t love you, but I’m taking this moment to write this to let you know it isn’t true. I’m tired of being alone. I have nothing to give the two of you and I keep making the mistake of giving what little I do have to men whom I believe will complete me… complete us and make us a family, but make bad choices with me. In the end they only take from me and I don’t have the strength to build myself back up one more time. I have done it for the last time. If this life were fair…. God would have taken me gracefully from you instead of your father. Your Dad loved you and he had strength deep within that I am not capable of. Unfortunately suicide isn’t very graceful and I wish I didn’t have to let you see that. Death never really feels good to the people left behind to experience it, but it’s something that we all must come upon eventually. I want to come upon it now, while I still have memories that are good and my heart is full of love for the two of you… before all the wrong I have done catches up to me and your memories become filled with my mistakes and you become full of hurt and hate. Do not hate me for leaving. I want to give you a chance to have love. It is the only thing that matters in life. 

Do not make important to you the material things that everyone will make you think are important. You always look out for each other. You are family and you two are all you have. I am so thankful I was graced with the ability to have two children to be there for each other and I do not bare the burden of leaving you alone. I know that you two will be loved and taken care of by someone who will be able to help you remember that I loved you as much as I could and will remind you that I left because my strength ran out… not my love. Always be kind to everyone. The people who need it most are probably not strong enough to be kind to you. Keep your heads up and your minds open. Do not let drugs and alcohol ruin your vision. You have to stay aware of what reality is in order to get through it and when you do drugs and drink alcohol you don’t know what is real anymore. Don’t let people steal your heart…. like I did. You make them earn it and take care of it… it is where all of your love is and it’s all that you are.

Don’t forget me please. Look at pictures… take time to remember all the good times we had and know that all I ever wanted was to give you good memories. I have run out of the means to provide you with any more, so treasure the ones you have, and make it important to give each other many more. As time goes on I’m sure that other people worthy of your time and love will come along. Give them good memories too. I love you with all of my heart. You are so beautiful and I am so lucky to have been in your life for this long. Maybe a miracle will save me from the hate that has consumed me… but if not know that you are so special and please do not regret that I am your mother. I did the best I could.

  

LOVE ALWAYS,

MOM xoxox

Then before my very eyes on the screen ahead of me in this darkness, I crawl to the bed. I call my grandma and tell her to send the police for me and I give her the address and room number. I pull back the blanket and nasty burned bedspread and reveal the sheet. I pull it off as well, and drag it along with myself to the bathroom to seal my fate the same way my mother did. I briefly see myself hanging from the shower and then everything turns black and cold.

**** This is probably one of the hardest things I have faced. It is also one of the most personal I have shared, because that is my actual suicide note, that I wrote, high out of my mind, 5 years ago. A miracle DID save me and I am instead here, happy, healthy, clean, writing this tale of what my future would be like if I hadn't stopped when I did.

"Shawna's Christmas Meth Carol" Part II ~Ghost of Tweaker Present

Of course I no longer use crystal meth, and so this is my version of what I think my present would be like if I had not stopped using.


"Ghost of Tweaker Present"


Even though I am still shaken from last night's visit, it does not deter the spirits that be from pursuing me. In my thought riddled state of half sleep, I am fully awakened by the ghost of the present, flying feverishly through my room. It seems he wants to show me something. I am again whisked into the warm night air, guided by my present spirit. The air begins to turn cold, and snow starts to fall.


We head in a familiar direction, over many a structures I know too well. We are heading to my childhood home, where my step grandmother still lives. The neighborhood is full of holiday cheer and festive lights.Again I am guided to look in the window.


I see my children. They are sitting on the floor and they seem to be making something. It is Christmas time and the house is decorated with all the same decorations that have adorned its walls and occupied its space at Christmas time for at least 20 years prior. I do not see Victorya. I wonder where I am?


I lean in closer so that I can hear what they are saying.
Destin is my 11 year old son
Aliviya is my 9 year old daughter


Destin: Do you think that Mom will like the card I made her?
Aliviya. Of course she will like it. You made it.


Destin: What are you making her?
Aliviya: I guess I have to make her a card too. Grandma says they don't allow many things in the jail. I don't want to send her something that she might not get.


Destin: Yeah I was really sad when the necklace that we got her for mother's day got sent back
Aliviya: I wish she could be here for Christmas. Grandma says she is never allowed in this house again. I don't  understand why they put moms in jail. Don't they know she has kids that need her?


Destin: Aliviya, it is more complicated than that. You will understand when you get older.
Aliviya: That's what everyone tells me. I am tired of people thinking I don't know anything. (getting tears) I just want her back. I hate living with Grandma.


Destin: She will be out by next year. I am sure she won't mess up and we will go to live with her again.. There is nothing you can do to change it this year. Please stop crying and try to make her a nice card.






I am so sad. I cannot stop crying and I cannot believe my children will be spending Christmas without me, and me without them. I am also horrified when I realize Victorya is not there... because she was never born.

" Shawna's Crystal Meth Carol" ~Ghost of Tweaker Past

I have decided to challenge myself to something very real. At this time of year we are filled with glee and joy, sad and hurt of what it "should be," or a mixture of both. My friend xxx at SPIRIT IS MY DRUG just took this amazing journey, as did Ebenezer Scrooge in his own life,  and I think it will help me.

I would also like to challenge anyone here, as it so applies to your condition ( sex, food, drug- addiction, codependency, recovery, etc.) to do the same.

"Ghost of Tweaker Past"

Tonight my stern new acquaintance leads me through the warm fresh night air. I hold on for dear life. We settle upon my old neighborhood. We descend to the house that we presently refer to as "The house on Saratoga."  My ghostly companion nudges me over to the window. I look down and see myself, and Bryson, asleep in bed. This is what happens....

 I sleep unaware of even my own existence, lost to the world, in what is often called a "tweaker coma," I awake to my same old bedroom, my same as always situation, and quickly look to find that little tiny bag ...the one that brings me to life... the one that allows me to get out of bed. I do not usually even sleep, but obviously the drugs ran out, cause I am waking in a bed- strange? I do not even wonder how long I have been asleep. I have no idea where my 5 and 8 year old children are. I assume I took care of that before I passed out.

I hurt. I think for a split moment that I should try to get out of bed... that I should think of SOMETHING.... ANYTHING other than getting high. The room is fuzzy. I still don't know where my children are. Perhaps I should go find them. I try to stand and it HURTS. My back hurts, my neck hurts, blinking does not feel so good.

I sit back down and I look at my little stash box and I open it, hopeful. PLEASE tell me there is some dope left! I look in and find nearly a teener! Holy wow! God must love me today! I don't even think back to wonder how I got so lucky. Glass pipe? check! Lighter? check? 2 minutes later I feel no pain. Life is great and I have "clarity."

Well DAMN! would you look at that? Bryson just happens to be laying next to me? didn't notice him before. Poor guy. I bet he will wake up and feel like crap. I better get him up and let him know that somehow we have so much dope left and that he can feel better too!

10 minutes later we are two overly confident and motivated individuals. I look at the clock and it says 6:15. We are in the basement, and in our room, where there is purposely no light. Who wants to acknowledge LIFE happening? I can now remember getting here at 4:00 in the afternoon and I think... Right ON! I have only been "out" for  2 + hours. I didn't do too bad. 


I walk out of the room to where there are windows, and it is still dark. Hmmmm dark at 6:15 at night? ) I look in every room and in every "hiding spot." maybe there is more dope or even MONEY in one- we do hide it from ourselves and those tweakers. No luck, so I look for my children. Upstairs, I find... The kids both asleep in their beds. Bryson's mother also asleep in her bed (she has been our dealer and babysitter/roommate for a while now.) I think that all is well and head downstairs to smoke another bowl so that I can do laundry and call Bryson's Uncle P (our BEST dealer) to line up our next deal.

I am so ahead of the game- I have like two hours 'til the kids need to be at school! I just might deserve to smoke ANOTHER bowl!  I can make a couple fake checks for people to cash and buy some more dope to sell, and THEN I can even (gasp) make them breakfast! Life is GOOD!

One click away....

I have so much going on in my mind right now. I just want to get inside and yell, "Can you SHUT UP so I can hear myself think?!?!" I have learned that the best way for me to quiet my fighting inner voices is through expression. It doesn't always have to be writing, but tonight it does. I need this. Until everyone in my head can settle down and listen and focus, this might be all over the place.

I feel as though I have been swept up into the whirlwind of blogging. Along with me and all of you other wonderful people, I have found many things. All inside my computer screen, I have found courage, honesty, friendship, understanding, sadness, compassion, and hope- just to name a few.

When I started this, I had no idea what I was getting into. The first blogs I happened upon had 30-40 followers and a lot of folks were following upwards of 20 other blogs themselves. I thought How in the world do you have enough time and energy to keep up with so many people? As time wore on I would find myself connected to another wonderful blog, eager to click the "follow" button, anxious and excited for our future together. No matter what the comment section brings, each and everyone of you have taken a look into my life, if even just one post, if even just a glimpse. All of the blogs I follow~ you have invited me into yours.

I sit here in awe. I am amazed by the power of sharing and connecting. I am inspired by the hope and healing that progresses and is woven through and through the words of each and every person. Each story is unique. No one has walked the exact same path to get where we are. We are all at different stages in our life's production, yet we all have something to share... something to contribute.

I feel like everyday here is an adventure. I never know if I will find a new friend, a challenge, knowledge, courage, or hope... I never know what is just... one click away.

“Life lives, life dies. Life laughs, life cries. Life gives up and life tries. But life looks different 
through everyone's eyes.” ~author unknown


“I am not afraid of tomorrow, for I have seen yesterday, and I love today.”   ~William Allen White