Category Archives: mother

You Win Some and ……

I lost a client today. She wasn’t the first and I’m pretty sure because of my chosen career, she’s not going to be the last. But I can tell you, they are all hard losses. When your in school or in supervision meetings for your license, they tell you excellent skills and techniques like…leave it at the door when you leave work or you know that you’ve done all you could have done. And also, they made the choices, you can’t save them all, it’s the nature of this beast called addiction and yada yada yada.

warrior woman praying

They mean well. They often speak from their own experiences of the one who got too close to their heart, hit to close to home, reminded them of ole so and so or such and such’s daughter, son, uncle , mother…Here’s my personal favorite. I came up with it myself. I believe it with every ounce of my being and every fiber of my spirit! Some of us plant the seed, some water, some weed but only God can cause the growth. Truth I say! Truth! Dear friend it is the truth.

But when everyone left work today and I was by myself in my office, I cried. I cried for the fiesty woman that I met just 60 short days ago. I cried for the dreams she had, for the help she wanted, for the relationship she was trapped in that had killed her long before the cancers in her lungs and stomach every ate her insides away.  He was a cancer that sucked the life out of her and refused to allow her to get the medical attention she  needed a long time ago.

That speaks to his own issues. And quite frankly, she let him do it. That’s a WHOLE different subject that we can look at later. Cause this is about her!

Finally, some of the other clients got together and literally CARRIED her to the hospital and left her. THEY MADE HIM LEAVE HER. And I thank GOD above for those people. Otherwise, she would have died in a rented room, in excruciating pain, not being cared for properly, weighing all of 60 pounds soaking wet. Thank you for stepping in for her! I pushed hospice, I begged to get a release to talk to her doctor, but I was always told smoke and mirrors. Sticks and tricks. Things that in the scheme of things didn’t even matter.

Being the brawler that I am, I stopped allowing him to come into my office after meeting with her for the first time. My Spirit just said something IS NOT RIGHT HERE. If she really wanted him in there, she could have said, “Let him in”. Funny though, she didn’t. I saw her two times after that. Then things went downhill so fast my head was literally spinning.

Within 30 days of our first meeting, she had dropped a good 30 pounds (she wasn’t a big girl to begin with). I remember someone saying, “Hey, she’s in the lobby, come and see her”. I jumped up and ran out, afraid I would miss her. I didn’t really need to worry about that: She could hardly move.  My girl sat there all hunched over, hooked up to an oxygen tank. I smiled and told her how glad I was to see her. I really was. Oh, how I hugged her. Gently of course, because she was so very frail. I knew then, it was the last time I would see her on this side of life. My sweet firecracker, fizzled to a remnant of her former self. An empty shell of a woman sitting in the lobby of my clinic.

we_re_broken_people_by_daniiroo-d8kb3qu
Thanks to Deviant art~~ https://daniiroo.deviantart.com/art/We-re-Broken-People-517839798 caption

I was told that her daughter didn’t even know she was dying. I tried to find her on FB and other places and couldn’t.  One of the brave clients that made sure she was safe at the end of her life said that her son made it in, but that she did not get a chance to hear his voice before she passed. I think of how tragic it all is. How heroin tears up a life and then other lives attached to that life and then other lives attached to the other lives until there is nothing but a dank and rotten hole in the universe. I wonder how her daughter feels not being able to hold her mommy or stroke her hair at the end because she is hung up in her own addictions and was off to the races. Her sugar daddy couldn’t find her or refused to pass on the message that my lady lay dying. She was animate about finding her daughter but I couldn’t find her. She couldn’t find her. No one could find her.

Tears run down my cheeks. Theirs is not the only story that will end like this. I cry for every one that has been lost in this ongoing war. I cry for the babies of the parents that are dead, in jail, strung out, tricking, treating, what the heck ever. I cry for the families that are perpetuating this sickening play to the 3rd and 4th generation.  I cry for the army of men and women that report to the triage centers every day to patch up the walking dead, weary wounded soldiers that have fought one more day on the battlefield of addiction.

triage

I pray and cry over their lives. That the trauma would not grow to be too much. That they would practice self-care for themselves. That they would take time out of their days, weeks, and years to love their children, families and friends. That they would stop and smell the preverbal roses. I pray that the workers would learn to reach out to each other and stop killing their units with friendly fire.

I pray for a lot. I know. God knows, and He really don’t mind. Didn’t He say, “Ask for the Nations”.

Well Lord. I ask for everyone in my clinic and the other six that are affiliated with mine. Then for all the staff and clients of all the centers I’ve ever worked in. And while I’m at it, how about all of Baltimore City, and Baltimore County and hell, why not Maryland as a whole State.

Wait, while I’m asking, I cover their families, their children and grandchildren, and all the staff, I pray for answers to this opiate epidemic. I pray for the key to unlock all addictions, and the human brain, and your pretty big , I pray for the meth problem in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD AND the opioid and cocaine, and pill and weed and cigarette and alcohol and everything else.

jesus prayers for the world

Cover it Lord. Cause we can’t!!! It’s too big for us! Even all of us together. For this one little Lady that I pray is being feisty and fiery up in heaven with you tonight Jesus! For her and her daughter when this hits her like a ton of bricks that she wasn’t there.

 

Amen

 

 

Advertisements

TRUST AND RECOVERY

Trust and the recovery process.

It took my oldest daughter years to forgive me for my heroin addiction.  When she was between 6 and 7, I started using morphine (in Baltimore, we call it raw dope). Everything was okay for the first 5 years. Then I started losing jobs and going to jail. As I slipped farther and farther into my addiction, my mother and step-father had to take over the parental role as her guardians’.

While I am thankful for all they did for her, it actually allowed me to slide farther down the rabbit hole. They were my main enablers. They took over the responsibility for her allowing me to run the street and do what I wanted to do.  I knew she was well provided for and I took advantage of their love for her as I steadily got worse.

I didn’t realize the impact that my addiction had on that precious little girl. She was so beautiful and bright! JENNY 4 YEARS OLDI thought that I had done the right thing by letting my parents step in. But in the end, she wanted her mom so desperately and I was unavailable to her. I was dead to all but the call of my lover, the one who numbed all of my pain; heroin.

When we get our lives back, one thing that we cannot do is make up for all those years of hurt and pain. We can only ask for forgiveness. Sometimes it is given freely and sometimes it takes years of hard work to earn back some semblance of trust. Between my daughter and me, well, it took years.  Now, it’s 16 years later and I can say that we have a good relationship.

But, hon, the first 5 years was hell on earth for me. Every time she felt hurt or slighted in any way, she would lash out with the fury of a woman scorned. Her words were weapons, and she was a master at arms. I would try to remain calm, but we all know that sooner or later, when we are reminded of the heinous acts and lack of action, we snap. While we can start at the point of our recovery and try to build from there, don’t expect to earn their trust over night.

teenagers

 We were both raw, sensitive and when the dust cleared, we were both broken and bleeding. The good news is that eventually, we came to an understanding. The knock out, drag out fights happened less and less and a truce arose.  One thing that we both learned was that we were a lot alike. We feel things deeply and powerfully. We know that we can’t talk about things that we disagree on, because that opens the door for war.

She learned over time, that I had really changed. I could be motherly, a shoulder to cry on, a cheerleader, an advocate and someone she could finally trust. I learned that if I needed an ear, she would listen….mostly. She still aggravates me when I call and think she is listening only to find out she’s not. I get mad and hang up. But should she need me, I come a running.

So, yeah, it took years and years of me showing up in our relationship. It took me walking out my recovery before her eyes, in word and deed. I had to put the work in. I had to prove to her that I was worthy of her. Eventually that mother daughter thing took root and began to grow into a beautiful and living thing.hard work from freeimage.net

But make no mistake, I had to earn that trust. Was it easy? Hell to the no it wasn’t easy. Was it worth it? Yes!!! Every argument, every derogatory remark, every knock down drag out, every tear, every “I’m so sorry” all of it. I wouldn’t change one thing about it, because it has made us stronger, better mothers and women in general.

If someone she knows is struggling with addiction, she is confident in my ability to counsel, give advice and just listen. I love that too! I look at it as her ultimate stamp of approval of what I have evolved into…that drill sergeant that can whip a recruit into a lean mean recovery machine. So….this is for my miracle baby that allowed me to gain the trust of those wretched years! This is a tribute to my Jennifer Marie.

JENNY 5
my beautiful Jenn

Because of my kids, I fight on! I show up every day 24/7/365! It’s a lifestyle not a profession. And I fight on for your kids, your moms and dads, husbands and wives as well as your brothers and sisters. I take a stand in the trenches so that one day, you will have the opportunity to gain the trust of all those that prayed and cried over you as you did your dirt.

As always, press in, hang tough and just do it! Until next time.

Let me know what you think!

 

 

 

 

Life on Life’s Terms

What does that mean when you are in recovery?

Think about it…

I know that, today, I can handle some pretty difficult circumstances without running to the liquor store, refrigerator or shooting a bag of heroin. Today, I don’t want to numb myself.

Why? That’s a good question for me to contemplate…Why? Because I want to experience everything that my life hands me, throws at me and craps on me.  I want…no I need to be an active participant in the day to day living and dying of my life.

You see, today, my mom has basically lost the battle she was fighting with dementia. I’m about to go and get her from the hospital, where she has been for 5 days, and bring her home. My mom has sooooo many illnesses that she is trying to live peaceably with. It’s not working. Her lungs are shot (COPD). Her heart, well that old thing is tired, worn out and struggles to keep the blood flowing through AFIB, congestive heart failure, high blood pressure and Type 2 Sugar.

396983_10100226988185835_74050944_n
This is my mom at Christmas in 2011-with her first great grandbaby

This old gal stood up to the courts of heaven and cried, screamed and plead during the throws of my addiction.  She lived it all as I numbed myself to escape the pain, she lived it.  So now it is my honor and privilege to enter the courts of heaven myself and cry, scream and plead. I want to be sober and vigilant. I want to be in my right mind as I battle this battle for her.

Oh Hon, don’t get me wrong, IT IS VERY HARD. I am a drama queen, a loud mouth piece, arguer, fighter- I am THAT WARROR who doesn’t know the meaning of stop or surrender. But through all that, through the anger that we may throw around, through the mean words spoken by both of us, I love that old girl.

I REMEMBER the days that I came home to try and hustle some money with my latest lies and schemes only to have her hand me a bag of food and send me on my way. She told me that she would cry for hours after she sent me on my way. I didn’t know that at the time. I do now. All the anguish and pain she was experiencing as I numbed myself every day for years.

Now I am the night watchman on the wall. When she cries out at night in fear, I quiet those fears and then I bombard heaven until I fall asleep again.

When she is confused and doesn’t know what is reality and what is not, I am here trying to be vigilant; trying to be the keeper of her memories.

I sometimes go along for the ride when she doesn’t know fact from fiction. I’ve been told that this will help her quiet her agitation. After all, when we are in the throes of our addiction, don’t we live in a fantasy world that we created so we don’t lose our sanity?

So that is why I live my life on the terms that the good Lord sees fit to send my way. I trust HIM enough to go along with the trials and triumphs that we call life. He is after all THE GOOD LORD.

So as you read this, look honestly at your trials AND YOUR TRIUMPHS! Look at how far you’ve come. Even with the mistakes you’ve made, you are STILL better off now than you were in your addiction