We all know an addict and have witnessed the horrible struggle that resides inside of them. We all have held hope in our heart that they will wake up and see what they are doing and stop. We all know somebody who has overdosed but because the worst outcome isn’t an option for us they have all recovered. In our own ways we have all been affected by this crisis that is gripping everybody. It doesn’t know race. It doesn’t care if it is your first time or your last. The reality of an addict is it is just a matter of time before it is your turn knocking on heaven’s door. My reality is this morning one of my husband’s friends from high school tossed the dice for one last time and as is in the growing amount of cases his time was up. He sits now at South Campus. The people he left behind are all faced to admit that what killed him were is lies. His inability to be able to tell us what was really going on. The number one reason I stopped doing blow was the fear that I would tell someboy that I stopped doing it and then having them finding my dead from it. You can’t run away from that. You can’t make anything better. Your lies caught up to you and dragged you down. Sometimes you come back and sometimes you can’t. He is still on life support right now. I haven’t decided if it is more for the living or for him. He has zero brain activity. The doctors have all said there is no hope yet the machines still keep his body moving. It’s our guilt. I feel it to. I don’t want to face reality that the last time I saw him it was my last. That the last words he said to me were lies. It’s hard not to be angry but the reality is he is gone and we are here to try to find a way to move on.
It feels like jsut yesterday you showed up at midnight with your son on your shoulders. Its was raining and you had been crying so I grabbed your son and took him to my living room and wrapped him in his blankes. I hugged him as you went to talk to my husband who was now awake from all the noise. We opened our home to you as you told us about a fight you had with your parents over their alcloholism. I made the bed and got you both something to drink as my husband hooked up the TV in your room. Anything you needed you could have asked us for we wanted to help. The next morning you rushed off without giving your son the lil goodie bag I gave him. You promised to be back. I was supposed to help you with your resume. You were supposed to your sons happiness over your own. I can’t help but feel all the classic feelings of grief. Anger, denial, sadness. I want to know what you were thinking when you decided that this was the option. I know life was lonely by yourself working towards getting things together but what or who was the real demons you were running from? What had you too scared to face this World sober. What spooked you that now leads us to hear. Us grieving over the life that could have been over our reality of what is now. You lied to all of us including yourself. If the truth will set us free then I suppose that is the lesson I will take from meeting you. What you taught me now especially now in your death that we have to be honest with ourselves. We have to tango with those demons in broadlight and never mind those casting side glances. We have to release ourselves from all those ties that bind us. So right now as those machines help you take your last breath. I am going to share a secret with you. One that I am ashamed of but one that i have to set free. Is there still time for you to take my shame with you? Can you be my friend once more to hear?
Here it is: After the tragic way that my son entered this World I was overtaken with this maddening depression. When Herbert (our cat) died it got worse. I was in this manic state being scared of death. I mean I was terrified. I felt like I danced with death and somehow he let me go home. The grief that kept washing over me for that moment hangs like a noose over my head. Other woman, better woman have died in the same way as me. Why me? Why spare me? I was a horrible person for many years. I thought the Universe owed me that after everything it did to me. I lashed out at everybody because I was in so much pain I couldnt’ see anything other than that. Then all of a sudden I die and come back and I am born into this beautiful life. I of all people didn’t deserve a husband that wanted nothing more to provide for us and give us a life he never had (our communication problems though are a whole another realm then this right now), so many furry four legged friends and my beautiful son. I didn’t deserve this. My anxiety grew. I thought if I was happy then it would all go away. That my misery would keep everything in balance.
My Dr recognized what was happening almost immediately. It was more than post-partum but still something that still needed to be identified and discovered. It was then she started experimenting with different anxiety medications. I mean my anxiety was so bad I thought I was going to die if I just left the house. It was also during this time I realized that I just really didn’t have anybody. I don’t know if it was because of who I was before all this but I only had one friend, my sisters, my niece and my mom and bf come to visit us in the hospital. I mean I died and NOBODY cared. How depressing. Was I that awful of a person that nobody cared that we almost died. I was so ashamed and depressed because of who I let myself become. Try being a new mother and carrying that weight with you too. I was referred to a physciatrist and together we went through decades of scarring and then allowed for those wounds to heal. It was also around this time I developed different coping mechanisms and probably the medications started to kick in. My older sister can at time be so cruel and this was one of those times. She sent me a message saying that I must be on drugs because nobody in their right mind could be as happy as I was portraying. That really bothered me. I mean yes I was on “drugs” but I was also doing alot of positive things too. I read more, play violin, I am an active role model in my sons life, I volunteer, I travel, I found an amaing supportive group of dolls both on the West Coast and in the US I mean I was doing everything I could to recreate the person I knew I had to change! And she so callously says its drugs.
Why is there that stigma that it is only the drugs that make us a likeable person. That if we are dealing with something head on that we must be crazy? And why do people call us crazy? I hate that nothing makes me crazier!!! Anyways…I wish you would have stayed here that day. I wish I could have told you that it takes hard work everyday to be happy. That you simply have to find those things that make your soul sing and you would feel complete again. Life is really hard and there is always that darkness that wants to win you over. I have committed myself to always being that bright light that the World so desperately needs. My heart hurts that you are gone and I am dealing with that. I am learning a new song on the violin. I started it a couple weeks ago and it is far from being ready for the World to hear. But everytime I play it I hope you know that I am thinking of you. I am so sorry the World failed you when you needed it. I am so sorry you failed yourself by just being honest with you you were and what demons you were fighting.
Wishes don’t change facts yet facts become fiction. The only thing that matters to me right now in this moment is the life you never gave a chance and the family you left behind. Thank you for being my friend but who supported my dreams. You came out to my bake sale and even came out to our village fundraiser. You had dreams of me and your wife becoming friends and our boys growing up together. My anxiety is taking over a bit. I know you are hooked up to machines and it’s just a matter of time. If you are out there anywhere and want a hand to hold yours to get you through. We will help you. Me and my husband has always hoped the best for you. If you still havent fully crossed over, cross back. Don’t let your demons win! Please come back.