Calm acceptance and moments of contentment, despite my daily struggles

My head is swirling with thoughts and ideas. I haven't found where I want to be in life, but somehow, I feel for me, that when I have, that will actually be when my life is literally over.

Everyday I have a new idea, new insights, and new passions that guide me. I ALWAYS have more questions than answers. I have a semi-conscious voice that reminds me of what I "should be" doing on a regular basis. When I drive down our street of lower-middle income houses, down to the only duplex at the end of the street, that we only rent, I long for home ownership. I briefly envy the newer cars, the boats and RV's parked beside these homes. I imagine the professions these people have in order to allow these luxuries. I imagine houses full of family and love, and many good times shared, and for a brief moment it feels like the only way to have these things is to own a home, a nice car, some toys, and a mentionable profession.

Then I pull in to my front "yard" that is really an asphalt blacktop with scattered weeds. I get out of my wrecked minivan (only had liability when we were rear ended in a hit and run) and I walk up to check the mail, in the mailbox that is about ready to fall off the house, and I settle back into reality.

I walk into my poorly cooled house, settle into the recliner that is next to the window AC, the one that has a view of the street. It is the place that I sit anxiously, when my kids are gone, either at school or playing, anticipating their safe return.

Today I sit and I daydream about my goals... My unfinished degree that was sidelined by my drug addiction... All of the things I once had to "show" for my accomplishments... The new furniture I bought on my own, while supporting my kids and going to school... The Tahoe that I was almost done paying off... The drastic weight loss and plastic surgery that left me looking completely normal, if not even "hot" not so long ago... The credit that I was so close to repairing, after ruining it once before. A lot has changed since then. I do not have any of those things anymore. I lost them all to drug addiction, but the important part for me now, is that they got out of the way, so I could see ME.

The me on the inside is better now, even without all of those things. I think often when people around an addict first assess the situation, they see a loss of "things" and that really drives the pain deeper to the addict, who has likely already lost themselves inside. By the time someone started to take notice of my deteriorated emotional state, I had already heard over and over all of the monetary loss I was causing myself and others. My self worth had already been diminished to that of a societal burden.

It was when I stopped expecting myself to contribute to society, or to the economy, or to the "insert any other person or group of people here," and I realized that I had to contribute only to making my own life work, that I was able to start forgiving and loving myself.

I may never own a house or a camper or a boat. Even though the pain is never completely gone, I have accepted my past. I have accepted the past I had no control over. I have accepted the consequences for the choices I made in the past. I accept my life as it is, even if it is one day at a time and my goals are more dreamlike at this stage in the game.

I choose not to hide behind the things that keep me from seeing me, and so I believe I will have just as much as I need, when I need it.

I may never have a fancy new car, or a perfectly manicured lawn (ha or a lawn at all), or high achieving kids,  but I have people I love to share my time with. I have love to give. I may not have recreational vehicles, but I still have recreation (even if it is a free movie at the park) with the people I care to have in my life.

I still have a lot of work to do to work past a lot of the trauma that life has dealt me and that I dealt myself, but for me, the important part today, is that I am still here for the journey.

12 year old Suicide and my Son's drug use

Unfortunately I am not referring to a suicide that took place 12 years ago. On June 19th, a beautiful 12 year old girl that is a part of my extended family, succumbed to the injuries she suffered days earlier, when she hung herself and her mother found her unconscious and nearly dead. This has hit me on so many levels and I can't seem to push through it.

For one, my son is 12. I cannot imagine him feeling endless hopelessness at his age. For two, I don't understand how in this specific case, everyone missed all the signs. It is such a tragedy.

I had intended to come here to blog about my son for some time. I fight to be aware of what is going on in his life on all levels and to stay tuned in. He has made new friends in this neighborhood that we moved to over winter break. They are different then his usual crowd. His grades and his interest in school plummeted. He changed his hair and dress style. He started caring less and less about consequences and more about "hanging out" and sleeping.

I knew something was up. Being that we drink, and there is alcohol in the house, and Bryson smokes, we decided it was time to take inventory and start counting/marking the bottles inconspicuously before bed. The first day Bryson woke up and everything was accounted for. he went to work and I left Destin and a friend at home while I ran some errands with the girls. When I came home the boys were gone and I decided I better check again. One beer was missing. I was furious. I called over to the friends and they were there. I told Destin I was coming for him immediately and that he better be able to tell me where the missing beer was by the time I got there.

He denied it even being gone initially. I told him I was taking him to the police station for a Breathalyzer and that if it came back positive then social services would probably get involved again.  His final story was that he let the other kid take it but he didn't drink any of it and that we could go do the Breathalyzer because he really didn't drink any. After a very long conversation about why he no longer had any privileges, or the trust of either of us, and how that was going to change our relationship, I decided that I would let him suffer through the guilt for awhile alone in his room.

I was reeling at Bryson about it and it occurred to me that it was highly unlikely this was the first or only incident. I went back up to his room where I found him sitting on the floor twiddling something in his hands. I sat on the floor next to him and told him we had more to talk about. I told him that I was going to Walgreens for a drug test and that he needed to tell me what I was going to find out before the test did. I couldn't believe my ears when he started crying and said he was so scared to tell me the truth, but that he really wanted to. The truth that he had been smoking cigarettes since he was 10 and had been smoking weed since we moved here in December. I cried. TWO YEARS?

We cried together for a minute. He hugged me and said he was so sorry but also so relieved and that he wanted to quit because football this fall was so important to him. He also said that he doesn't drink because he is scared since drinking is what caused the illness that took his father's life when he was 4. It took me a  minute to compose myself and I decided this was the best time to tell him my own truths so we could start working on that open and more adult-like relationship that I feel is going to be crucial for him during his teen years.

I told him of mine and Bryson's meth addiction. I told him about all of the things that happened because of it. I was actually shocked that he had no idea. He was in second grade when they were taken away from us. I also talked to him about all of the risks of different drugs and them being cut or laced. About overdosing and about legal consequences. I had plenty of family who have lost their kids or are in prison to use as examples. I talked about more immediate possible consequences, like Social Services getting involved or him starting out life with a juvenile record like my brother did. Consequently my brother is in jail right now at the age of 21 because he never stopped making those same choices. He is also well aware of Uncle P who was just paroled here, proceeded to get arrested after a month, and is now facing 4-12 years in prison because of drugs.

I told him that he had no choice but to quit. Honestly I was more upset about the cigarettes. Marijuana is legal for medicinal use in CO and is growing in popularity as a "healing herb." I don't condone it, but I also realize that with it available on every other corner in dispensaries, that talking responsibility is the key.I tried to talk more about how he needs to be of legal age before he chooses ANY legal habit (drinking, smoking, weed) and that he also needs to have the means to support his own habit without stealing. He said he would get the cigarette butts left in Bryson's ash tray. He told me who he had smoked weed with and who had supplied the weed and the paraphernalia. He also said he had stolen some from Uncle P. I am not naive enough to assume I got the whole truth, but I know enough to change the options he has.

I enrolled him in an alternative school, with very small class sizes and much more available guidance throughout the day, for next year. The kids in this neighborhood are off limits for now. He will have to reconnect with church friends or kids from our old neighborhood that I trust. He can no longer be left alone with his friends and no adults. Bryson is now soaking his cigarette butts in water so there are none available here. He isn't allowed to leave the house without us, so no walks looking for butts either.

It has been 3 weeks since I found out. The first week Destin was an irritable, grouchy, shaky mess. We encouraged him to talk about how bad he felt and be honest when he was having cravings. He said going without weed din't bother him, just without cigarettes. We encouraged him that he would feel better and that it would pass. He is uncomfortable around other people smoking in public and says he feels good that he did it. He even said he feels strong that he quit smoking when Bryson can't ;)

I didn't think it would happen so soon, but I was sure experimenting would be a part of his life. I know I can't hold his hand all of the time and there will be plenty more opportunities where he will have to choose what he is going to do. I have to equip him with education about the dangers of drugs and hope he will make good choices.

I was feeling overall confident about how it has played out thus far until the death of this little girl rocked my world. Obviously kids can have completely separate lives from what their parents ever see. Her parents say there were no signs. I saw several status messages that referred to her committing suicide and that no one would care. Even worse, out of her over 100 friends on there, not one commented back that they did care or suggest she talk to someone or tell her parents! Why wasn't anyone paying attention?!?!?

I am into what my kids are doing to a fault. I am on their myspaces. I have their passwords and I do check their phones. They have to ask for permission to be on the computer and I have parental controls that limit what they can do. I also check the browser history to see what sites they go on. Amazingly they don't seem to mind. They ask for my help to do their backgrounds and we look at their friends statuses and pages together. I have always told them they do not have a right to privacy over safety and that I care enough to know what they are doing. Is it enough?

I'm sure I will have more to say on this. I am overwhelmed with it all right now.

I am helping to participate on a facebook group that focuses on childhood bullying and depression and am speaking out in Brianna's honor. Hopefully the loss of her life can save another. I know it will help me to be even more increasingly aware of what is going on in my children's lives and take the time to talk to them and show them I care. I had a really awesome talk with Destin about depression and suicide last night and even how drugs can lead to either. We talked about how friends come and go and that if anyone is ever making him feel worthless he needs to talk about it. I showed him pictures of Brianna, and all the things that her friends are posting in the group, that I know they wish they could have said before it was too late. Drug addiction, depression, and suicide run rampant in our families, and I am not going to sit idly by and lose my children to any of them, if I can help it.

I would like to share the link to Brianna's page as well as her memorial fund. If you can show any emotional or financial support to the people that are grieving an unimaginable loss, it would be appreciated. If there is someone that you can share her story with that it may help, please do.

In Memory of Brianna: Let's put an end to bullying

and

Forever Brianna

Navigating life with an uncertain destination...

sometimes leaves my journey clouded and me disoriented. It is utterly astounding to me how the events around you can truly affect your own path.

I wish I had more positivity to report. As some of you may remember from past posts, Bryson's Uncle P, who was our past drug dealer and partner in crime, got paroled to our house. He had continued on the forgery and meth addiction path for a good time after we had stopped and his consequences included 3 years in prison. His parole here was following that 3 years plus some time in a halfway house.

I had some serious concerns. We had some rules that were not up for compromise. It went well initially. he was working at Subway, had his own insured truck and insurance, and was taking his wife to and from work (she is in a halfway house). Then it became apparent that he was not working. When we asked him about it he said his hours had been cut and he was about to get a job at the emissions department for more money.

In the mean time both me and Bryson got pulled over within a weeks time, and learned that both of our licenses had been revoked for unpaid tickets from the past. Uncle P was willing to get Bryson to work and also started taking the kids to and from school (they usually walk). Seemed like a nice gesture, but he was using our car to take Bryson and then deciding he could just use it the rest of the day. Part of me felt afraid to confront him because we had no other options, until either me or Bryson could get our licences reinstated, to get Bryson to work. His weekend shifts start at 6 am and there are no buses running that early. I couldn't understand why he wouldn't just drive his own truck.

After two days I just couldn't take it. I was too afraid of what could possibly happen with our vehicle out of our sight and worried about why he would be driving it. I told him we needed to talk and told him he needed to drive his own truck. Yes we appreciate the rides, but he is not working, he is living here, and he has an insured vehicle. We would be happy to give him gas money for the rides. I also told him I was more comfortable with the kids walking, because I was pretty sure by how he was acting that he was up to no good. I reassured him that we had no tolerance for that in our house and that it would be sooner than later that he would head back to prison if he continued pushing his parole limits.

The next day he took Bryson to work and was not heard from again. He didn't show up at 3 to pick him up. His phone was off. We started calling hospitals and jails about 10 pm. !1pm we get a collect call from him from the city jail. We cannot accept collect calls, but we knew where he was. After a few days of calls and my own investigating here is what I know. He has a new charge of Distribution of a schedule II illegal substance. Distribution means it was either weighed out, he had a scale, or it was such a large amount that it could not be for personal use. There is a 75,000 bond for that charge... yes thousand. He has an out of location for parole with no bond. His truck is in the impound with 3 police holds. One of which is for a hit and run involving an accident and another is for a complete search of the vehicle to look for more drugs.

The best I can take from this is that I followed my gut and am so thankful this did not happen in our car. It is a great learning experience for my 12 year old son and a reminder that helping people cannot come at the cost of my own family's safety. It is also very sad. He is 48 years old. He is supposed to be a role model and someone we can look up to. His wife is going to get out of the halfway house in 10 days and is devastated. We all would of much rather had him working at Subway for $7 an hour than selling drugs to make money. It is sickening.

I am also still sick. I have been to the ER again with the same advice to have an exploratory operation but no insurance and still no appointments for new patients at the clinic.

My son will have his cast off tomorrow and I still have not had any cooperation from the school in getting the parents to help pay for his broken arm. I was told they would send me a school directory and my son could help me figure out if the kids were listed so I could try to contact the parents.

He also got a referral for supposed "gang affiliation" because he and several of his friends "appeared to be all wearing red" on one day and then "appeared to be all in blue" the next day. Are you kidding me? If you knew my son at all and the crowd he hangs with you would find this funny. They are both skaters and hip hop style. Some where basketball jersey's and some wear skinny jeans! Also in case you are unaware, there is no known gang activity happening with 12 year olds in our suburban area that involves changing colors on a daily basis. This is ridiculous.

I am seriously considering homeschooling/unschooling for him next year, but that will have to wait for another post.

The latest and hardest to report update of all, is that night before last my 1 year old kitty was hit by a car. The poor baby drug herself down into our window well (the large kind that allow a person to get out of a basement safely) and then through our window (another 2 feet down) with her whole lower body completely crushed. It is the most painful thing I have ever heard/seen in my life. We rushed her to the vet and there was no hope for her life, only to stop her suffering. She was medicated and loved and then we had no choice but to let her go.

I am so thankful she made it home but I am still in agony over the suffering she endured. I am glad she felt love before she left instead of dying alone in the street. My 2 year old saw her and heard her cry out in pain and she was devastated. It was so unbearable.

I am still teary more often than not. I miss her so much and I am so sad.

Sorry I can't be here more, but obviously life has some things for me to tend to right now. Miss you all so much and I am about halfway caught up on everyone's blogs. Trying to balance my physical pain with my emotional pain and my mothering responsibilities. Thinking of you all as some of your journeys turn positive while others are still struggling.

"No one ever said life would be easy, they just said it would be worth it." ~author unknown

Blog Song and Dance

I have become increasingly aware of how the blogging world changes for us all. To me it reminds me of song and dance. Sometimes we are feeling at our best and we can dance all night long, so caught up in the moment, we hardly notice how the night just flew by. Sometimes we aren't in the mood or we tire too easily, and so we have to sit a few songs out. Some people decide that going out dancing doesn't fit in with their current lifestyle or doesn't bring the same enjoyment it used to and they stop going.

... and so come the same feelings with blogging. I was kind of shocked and sad to see a few of my favorite people moving on, but realized the bittersweetness of growth. I was also feeling guilty that I have been neglecting to write or comment. In examining my priorities and what is going on in my life, I feel that writing here must be on my terms and when I feel right. My Sacred Insanity was created with the intention of just getting things out. Over time I think it has evolved to be a more in depth story of my past and how I have become who I am today, especially as it relates to addiction and how it almost destroyed me. Right now I need to take a little break from sharing so much, because I am involved in evolving in the present, as I am presented with new life challenges as a parent.

Addiction and loss kind of engulfed My Sacred Insanity and I realized that was okay. I never realized my sharing would help anyone other than me. It just isn't ALL of who I am. I created Acute Verbal Sabbatical as a place where I could share more of me today, and could write in my present struggles and happiness. Every time I want to post, I want to do it here because of the comfort of the people who comment and feel support and give support. I have realized that this isn't the right place for my everyday ramblings and I need some consistency in what is here. 

With that being said, I feel more comfortable saving this space for the right things at the right time. I know when I need to sit a few out. I haven't decided to give up dancing. If you don't see me sharing the music of my soul here, I might just be dancing in my kitchen with my kids over at Acute Verbal Sabbatical.

In case you were wondering...

I have not felt like writing and have been feeling pretty busy and unmotivated lately. I think we are still recovering from spring break with all 3 kids home all day. We are still adjusting to my husband's schedule working days after 3 years of him working nights. The weather has ranged from blizzards to 80 degree days, and back, several times in the past few weeks.

We have had car troubles and I got pulled over and didn't know my license was cancelled for some reason. Not sure if it's a traffic ticket I didn't take care of from back when I was too high to care, or if it's related to my identity being stolen, also back when I was too high to care.

We are sponsoring Bryson's uncle who is on parole. Ironically he used to be our drug dealer and literal partner in crime. When we got arrested and started working our way back out of the hell hole we created, he continued on the wrong path and wasn't so lucky to get probation. He got out over a year ago but still hadn't learned and went right back to selling dope and violated parole in the halfway house. This time he has made it through a more intensive inmate rehabilitation program than he had to. He finished his time in the halfway house and now he needs somewhere to live. The sad reality and irony is that there are no other family members that are clean and can promise to provide a home free from weapons and drugs, but we can. 

I have to admit I am a little nervous, but we have clarified that we are not the one's who need him here and that anything perceived as risky for our family or that is in anyway violating his parole, means we will report him and and revoke his sponsorship. He is doing random ua's and ba's and should he fail even one it would send him back to prison so there is some comfort in that. Feels kind of weird to be on this side. 

I am still struggling with extreme bouts of insomnia which in turn cause me to feel exhausted all the time and I feel short and irritable with my kids. Still waiting for word on our health insurance application so that I can hopefully get to the root of it all.

Taking things one moment at a time and feeling pretty content with that because it allows me to live with hope for a better moment, despite my emotional and physical discomforts of this moment.