Search

The Waters Deep

Life's about swimming to the top and dancing on the waves!

Category

Health

You can’t pray it away

Old deserted House

So she’s not dead.  I thought she was when I first walked in.   Slumped over in the frame of the chair, her body motionless and grey.  Empty, like a dilapidated building, once filled with Life.  Where beauty still lingered but only because of Memories that you imagine might have happened there once.

 It strangely hurt my heart more than I had prepared myself for it to hurt, even after all the years of practicing for the inevitable.

Almost 20 years of Prescription Pills and Alcohol.  Each overdose somehow coming as a surprise.  It’s been ‘Food Poisoning’, ‘A stroke’, ‘The Flu’,  a multitude of ailments that we all know aren’t real but no one has the energy to call out.  Again.

I’ve felt like I was standing in some kind of Fog or Mist Horror Story, where no one was willing to admit there was a Monster lurking.  Only me.  Every time I screamed ‘Monster’ another member of the family would disown me.  How dare I be so disrespectful.  Those are ‘good’ people.  ‘Great Friends’.  God Bless them and we’ll pray for them.

They lived in a beautiful perfect home that could have been put together by Martha Stewart herself.  Not anymore.  The money is gone.  Not even enough to finish the small cabin in the woods they are trying to build.  Sleeping on a mattress without sheets and sitting on camp chairs by the woodstove, which is their only source of heat.  Walls and ceiling half finished.  A pantry full of canned Pork & Beans and soup.  A refrigerator full of nothing but beer and wine, no real food.  A washing machine full of folded clothes and shoes, because at some point there was major confusion on how to do a load of laundry.

We talked about it in secret, when no one else was listening because no one else wanted to hear it.  No one wanted to clean up that mess.  In all fairness maybe no one knew how.

You don’t pray away an Opioid & Alcohol addiction.  You don’t sober them up with coffee and a couple AA meetings, or apparently 22 years of them either.  That Monster just lingers in the Mist waiting for the door to be opened.  Waiting for its friend Death to join him at the Party.

This time though, it brought me and my sisters into a room, together, for the first time in 20 years and we all were in agreement on how to proceed.  We left the elephant back at the shack.  We locked arms around the Tree of Life and we talked about being Sisters and we imagined what that might mean now.

We had an amazing shift, where Love was shared.  THAT was a beautiful and unexpected gift.

The Fear of Loss

No matter what happens around me, or to me, as long as I am alive enough to see the sun and the moon rising I can still grow and love and life is amazing regardless of Loss.


This week I stood, once again, over a hospital bed watching a family member recover from an over indulgence of Doctor Prescribed Medication and Budweiser.  Her face a puffy caricature of the  beautiful high cheek boned person I knew.   Once perfect lips dry and cracked and almost undetectable except for the tongue that keeps darting out as she tries to form what I can only guess are words, a hopelessly failed attempt to convince the doctor she has Food Poisoning.  Her eyes yellowed and blood shot, an obvious cry of help from a Liver that seems almost ready to take a permanent vacation from a body that has become way to much work to maintain.  Nicotine stained fingers tinged with a hint of blue, her lungs are not awake enough to take in air but not dead enough to completely stop.

I just want to go home.

I stand there looking at her husband, who is studying the lines on the floor as if they are going to give him the secret answer to the Universe and think, “You watch her sober up or die.  Not me.  You are the one lying to the doctors.  You know the Truth.  Why will you not share it?”  He catches me staring and I see Fear.  It has rendered him speechless.  I want to slap him.

So I walk to the nurses station and tell them her real story.  The truth that she has been struggling with prescription drug addiction for 15+ years.

Plenty of Fluids later and she has recovered miraculously from ‘Food Poisoning’.  They are going to walk her and then she will be released.  It’s no longer an emergency.  This time I don’t beg the doctor to send her to rehab.  I’m not angry.  I’m not really anything except tired.

The next day we have our ‘day after’ talk where I tell her she’s going to die and ask if that’s the Legacy she wishes to leave behind.  I remind her that her mother died from a cocktail of alcohol and pills.  She cries.  She tells me she’s sorry and it won’t happen again.

It’s the same as always. The only difference this time is that I have let go of the Fear of losing her.  I have let go of the responsibility to try to make her sober.  I have let go.

I hug her like it might be the last time I ever see her, because it might.  I look into her hungover eyes and will her to understand that she is loved.

I walk away without any Fear of Loss and I walk back to my life where the birds are chirping, bees are buzzing, my dog is farting, my kids are calling and my husband is hammering on something in the kitchen.

No loss, except my own life, will kill me.  There is Freedom in that Truth.

Taking my feet to better places

GoldBug Feet Pic

Leaving the couch and TV behind and taking my feet to better places.

Getting out of my head and into Nature.

Letting go of Fear!

Big Clumps of hair

Trentens pic

Last night I dreamt that my hair was falling out in big nasty clumps the size of a silver dollar or bigger.  I was at a Halloween dance and I pretended it was part of my costume, even to myself.  I left the party in a pickup truck and was driving home in the dark.  I was thinking and thinking about the awfulness of my problem and the corners on the road kept getting tighter and tighter and I was having a hard time keeping myself on the road.  Then I didn’t.  I came around a corner and just had a calmness about me as I missed the turn.  I knew I couldn’t stop it or control it.  In slow motion I tumbled off the road and through the air.  I thought to myself, “of course there’s no ditch”.  Down and down I went and crashed at the bottom.  I wasn’t thinking about my hair anymore.  I was thinking about the physical pain and wondering if my soul could live through it.  I went to school the next day but everything was so loud and I couldn’t understand the words anymore.  And I hurt everywhere.  My hair was completely gone and I’d let one of the ‘druggy’ Emo art students paint a kaleidoscope of 3 dimensional scenes where my hair used to be.  But I couldn’t stand all the noise and the chatter. I couldn’t stand all the people.  It was just to much work to be there.  I had to go where it was quiet.  I sat on the top of a hill and watched them playing down below, I looked up and saw the brightness that the world can be.  I wasn’t happy and I wasn’t sad.  I just was. And it was ok for now.

I think I may be tired of dealing with people this week.  And my youngest daughter’s hair has started falling out.  She called me last night to tell me she had three more bald spots.  It made my stomach hurt.   I think it scares me more than it does her.  She simply sweeps the rest of her thick dark hair over the big bald spots and bobby pins it.  Moves on with her day.  She has the ability to compartmentalize in a manner that probably saves her from going completely crazy from the stress she has in her life.  I do not have the same gift.  So I’m closer to crazy than I normally like to be.

 

The thing about dying

 
Ocean

 

 

 

 

 

The thing about dying.  We either get to know it all or we end up knowing nothing.

 

 

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: