I am sexy and I know it…

I am at home resting with pain medication hidden in an envelope inside my bra. Sounds so sexy…no? I am definitely starting to feel better and can see a future with out post surgical pain is right around the corner. I ended up being in the hospital for seven days and came home yesterday. I am ashamed to say how much I enjoyed my hospital stay once the pain was under control. I watched TV, read books and laid there while kind nurses brought me icy cold water. Why is it that water tastes so delicious with tiny square ice cubes in it?

 

Addiction barely crept into my thoughts except to realize how much I enjoyed that happy rose glazed feeling of opiates. I can see and feel what the pay off is but I also recognize that I have not accomplished a damn thing. It is way to easy to be selfish and uncaring about real life. I have this feeling that when the few pills I have left are gone, I will feel some kind of withdrawal….emotionally for sure but I suspect there may even be some physical consequences.

My oldest daughter has been everything I knew she would be: helpful and kind with a smile planted firmly on her face. She got my little one off to school in the morning with lunches ready in the fridge for both kids. I also, appreciate that my younger daughter is able to get her self off to school too. She however is new worry in my life. I am hoping that being 13 explains all these emotional ups and downs but it scares me there is more to it. She needs to see the therapist again and soon.

J was happy to see me when I got home and gave me a huge emotional hug. I know he cares about how I am feeling but that feeling also would never impede on his life enough to change it. J’s life sadly continues to implode. I am sad that I am still here watching with front row seats. The only hope I have is that rehab for J will no longer be optional the law will soon get involved and his choice will be Rehab or Jail. Ladies and gentleman we have once again reached that fork in the road…Go figure?

I am in hell…

This prep is brutal and I am really not sure I can do this anymore.

My last supper…

My husband and I went out to eat on Saturday and then also made a lovely Sunday meal today… now let the fun begin. I can drink one ensure for breakfast, lunch and dinner tomorrow along with clear liquids. Tuesday I can only drink clear liquids before I need to start prepping in the afternoon. My surgery is on Wednesday at 8:30 am. I am terrified….like curl your toes screaming inside terrified.

I have been hospitalized with Diverticulitus multiple times in the past years. I have developed several complications that must be taken care of and that makes this surgery no longer optional. I sooooooo want to bury my head in the sand and scream: STOP, I CAN’T DO THIS! but I know I really need to do this. So on May 1st, I  will be having a bowel resection along with a few other more minor procedures.

I will probably not be able to post on here for a week or so but I will be home recovering for at least a month. So who knows, you may get sick of hearing from me. My daughter will probably post on my Facebook how surgery went and I know that many of you are a part of my FB Family. Feel free to pass the news on…

I really could use some calming thoughts and prayers…

Banging my head against the wall…

The Parable of Banging-Your-Head-Against-The-Wall

Once upon a time, a hapless activist contemplated the lack of effect, and personal costs, of banging your head against the wall.

Start of scene: Me, banging head against the wall: bang! ouch! bang! ouch! bang! ouch! …

Then I received much “advice”.

Me: “Maybe I should stop banging my head against the wall. It hurts. And it doesn’t seem to be affecting the wall in any way.”

Advice-Giver: “Bang your head harder. But don’t ever say “ouch”, because nobody likes a whiner. And look, you made a blood smudge on the wall, isn’t that worthwhile?”

[Attempts to take "advice"]

Me: [Bang!] “Ow” [Bang!] Ouch, that’s painful!

Advice-Giver: “Keep at it. And remember, I told you to stop saying “ouch”. Maybe you should consider that you’re not making any progress because you moan and groan so much? And that bloody smudge is even bigger now, isn’t that progress?”

[one more time]

Me: [BANG! BANG! BANG!] GODDAMMIT THAT HURTS LIKE HELL!

Advice-Giver: “Well, I’ve given you my advice, and you just won’t follow it. It’s obvious that you get some deep satisfaction from playing the victim, since I’ve repeatedly said you shouldn’t complain and you keep doing it. It’s all your fault, since you won’t do what I say. And you shouldn’t be surprised that the wall is still there, with an attitude like yours.”

The truth shall be revealed…

About two weeks ago I told his girlfriend that I was quite sure he was using regularly. She knew about his past but to me it seemed she turned a blind eye to his relapses. The poor girl was devastated and shocked. I have never shared any information with his GF because I really wasn’t interested in getting involved in their relationship. So she confronted him and he went into denial and the old stand-by “How can you not trust me?” and “My mom is a lunatic and always thinks I am high.” AND…Once again he made all sorts of promises and she believed him and life went on. Until a few days ago when she intercepted a few text messages on his phone.

She is blaming herself…but she still loves him and is so confused. Then she asked the big question: How can I help him? and What should I do? I looked at her and saw me 3 years a go….total destruction of a kind and loving soul. So with out a lot of thought I said to her: You did not cause this, you can not control his addiction and you sure as hell can’t cure it. What you should do is walk away, in fact you should run. J’s addiction will always be his mistress and you will have to share J with his mistress if you stay. As long as you are present and supportive and willing to forgive each time he lies…J never has to change. Not to mention his family still offers him a home while pretending he has no mistress…it’ a win-win for him. She has walked away.

J is fairly close to a nervous breakdown. He really is going to lose everything good in his life…his girlfriend…his family and his home and this time he knows it. My husband is furious. Once again, rehab is on the table or he will be homeless, either works for me because he won’t be here. So now he is in desperation mode. He is still trying to negotiate with promises we know he will never keep….. He is desperate to hold off on this for another two weeks because it will interfere with his last meeting and release from probation. How ironic…right? I want to call his probation officer and tell her he is not well at all and she should not release him but I am not really sure what this would accomplish?

I am so stressed out…I have my own worries. My 13-year-old is in therapy, my Bama girl is going to have to take on a huge amount of responsibility when I go into the hospital and my 9-year-old …well, he is NINE for Christ sakes he shouldn’t have to hear ANY OF THIS. AND I am going to have to tape my pain killers to my chest so J has no access to them but just maybe he will be gone before I get home from the hospital. FML

Well the shit has hit the fan…pray

keep you posted with more information when we figure it out.

Anxiety attacks…

MY 13 year old daughter is having anxiety attacks…like for real. They happen in the morning mostly and they are heart breaking to watch. I am so surprised that J has absolutely no sympathy for her…he thinks she is faking it??? I know she is not faking…they are so real she would do anything to make them stop. I have set up an appointment with a psychologist and I really hope she can help her.

M has been my most challenging child even more so than J. She is very tightly strung and has been since she was an infant. Easily startled as a baby and as she got older she was terrified of bears, vacuum cleaners,  going fast and then vomit. She is SOOOOOO frightened of vomit. In fact, I would say she is down right phobic about it. I just looked it up and apparently it is a real phobia called Emetophobia. It affects her life in the most ridiculous ways…if her stomach is to full she feels panicked that she might throw up. She eats small quantity meals, really more like snacks throughout the day. If anyone is sick in the house, she will go to a friends house or not leave her room. School is a nightmare of possibilities….kids get sick all the time.

She is beautiful, sensitive and very well liked. School is academically challenging and her frustration level goes 0-60 in 2.3 seconds and it is not a pretty sight. The flip side of that is she is the most social of all my children. She collects friends every where…vacations, sports, school, camp. She loves school but not the work part of it only the social aspects of it. If she wants to go to college I of course would totally support her but I don’t think that it is necessarily her path to follow. I really see her in some creative field like photography, interior design, artist, stylist etc… Since she was the tiniest little thing she has always had this innate sense of style that I really admire.

Her maturity needs to catch up to her looks. I really think it must be a little easier looking younger for your age verses looking so much older than you really are. I really think she is done growing at 5 ft 7 in and other children in 7th grade are beginning to catch up….thank goodness. This little chick needs some strategies to help her navigate through life with less fear, less frustration and less anxiety. She is a lot like me in some ways and I can’t help but think growing up in a house filled with addiction is shaping her life. I fear she will turn to drugs looking for a way to calm herself…This may sound dramatic but I am not sure I could survive if another child of mine became an addict or alcoholic.

PS. My surgery is scheduled for May 1st. Please keep me in your prayers. I am really scared. I will be in the hospital for 5-7 days possibly more. I will be out of work for 4-6 weeks but I am really hoping I can get back in 4 weeks.

One of those phone calls…

The other day I was home sick and the phone rang…I looked up on the TV because it will tell me if it is a sales call or not. It said: ______State Police. My heart sunk. I am not sure what I thought exactly but I assumed it was probably not good news. In a matter of seconds all those memories of late calls from J at a police station or at the hospital or stranded in the middle of hell, hit me with such clarity I could taste my own fear.

I took a breath and said hello…sure enough they asked if J was was there. Without any fore thought or a plan I went into rescue and enable mode. “Well, officer no he is not here…oh does he live here? Well, umm sometimes? Do I have a number you can reach him at…I don’t know? What does that mean? Oh umm…I am not sure he has a cell?…it was pathetic.

J said, he had no idea what they wanted and looked legitimately bewildered. J asked me if it brought me pleasure when I accused him of using. I was furious and answered immediately without thinking… “No I do not get any satisfaction in being right. In fact, I feel pretty pathetic…I let you “use” in my house why we all avert our eyes. I feel sick about it…and I get sicker each day”. How does that make you feel J?

Silently facing in…

SPRING PLEASE COME QUICK…I long for a new beginning. 

I discovered Pintrest today…scary focus. I can spend hours that feel like minutes on there…it’s nice and mind consuming. Addiction? Who? What…?