Failure today. I broke my promise to myself and called my dealer. Paid a high price for two 30’s of morphine, and then bought a 40 of OC later. I’m really disgusted with myself. That’s $70 down the damn toilet, and a needle in my arm, again. Can’t do it, just need to cut my ties with Joey; he will absolutely sabotage me and these efforts to improve and fix my life. I got really high, but what does that mean anymore? Nothing. It’s all a waste!!!! The worst part is that tomorrow I feel like I’m going to be buying more, wasting my lead in the cash department. I took a break from my amiltriptelene and that has something to do with it. Tomorrow morning I’m off to Biolife. Hopefully, my shooting today doesn’t sabotage that. Nope, change in plans. I’ve put too many holes in my arms to attempt Biolife. I’m just deeply disappointed in myself today– tomorrow I make my stand.
Intake: 50 mg hydroco oral, 60 mg morphine IV, 120 mg oxyco IV
(My LORD, can anyone hear the pain and guilt in this man’s mind? Such disappointment, such guilt, and such failure. One can only experience so much failure for so long and then what? What? I feel such empathy for my son by reading his struggles. I had no idea. Why did I have no idea? Why was I so out of touch? I know why but don’t want to tell myself. Matt didn’t want to tell himself the hard truth either. The hard truth is that we are told by the world–teachers, parents, media, and neighbors– that we need to be perfect, need to be like everyone else, need not to stick out as needy. However, I would bet that every last person reading this is just that. We are all failures. Isn’t that wonderful? Such freedom comes from understanding that every last single one of us is a failure at something big: Marriages, jobs, social situations, physique, personal relationships, sexual intimacy, and raising our children to name a few.
So, what the hell was I thinking? Okay, so he never needed to need. Was that really a favor? NOT! Coming from a very poor, hillbilly family, all myself or anyone ever wanted to do was survive. We dreamed of paying for real clothing, we wondered what avocados tasted like (not that special, more like greasy broccoli and boiled eggs creamed), we wondered what people did on golf-courses besides picking worms for fishermen, we wondered what air-conditioning was like… I took that all away and let him feel that it was all about comfort. Well, for me it was. I had a dream, and Matt and me were darn well going to live it, by golly. I thought I was such a success as a provider. I knew I was lacking on some private matters though.
I knew myself to be a failure on several levels. I wanted him to be different. But, I knew what I wanted from my closest confidants–a break and some acceptance. So, why was I so willing to tell him to straighten up, get another job, man-up so to speak? Okay, so I was man enough for any man, even though I am a woman. I cut my own firewood, built my own stupid house, got my own college education, can do a bunch of worthless stuff like hunt birds and deer, and make my own sauerkraut… survival stuff (growing up poor it was all about food and warmth), yet I was unable to see that my son was starving. My focus was off. I wanted him to be good at what I was good at, surviving. Maybe I just was looking at the only thing I knew how to do and was pressing toward that. However, he was starving on a different level, a level I was not in tune to. I am now. I wanted him to change and what happened was a change in me. I am so thankful. I am so much more balanced now. I now see people differently. I now see people as not just carbs and environment, but as emotional.
If anyone out there is starving, let me know as I now know something important and am more than willing to be a part of this team effort called life. I am willing to share my food, now–We have tons of carbs in this country and very little soul food. I am growing a green garden just brimming with soul food lately. Ultimately, I have learned that to be happy, adjusted, self-controlled,… one needs to be answering to other’s needs.
In fact, just tonight I had a rain cloud pass over the soul-food garden with my two daughters. After spending late nights running to basketball games followed by my work toward a MA, they were a bit lacking on the whole “family” team effort and this the-world-against-us sort of soul. They were just so into their Facebook, their time, and their hearts. After a “loud discussion” on mom’s needs and their responsibility to take on this burden, I received a few tearful hugs and hopefully some help in pulling this sledge along the trail. Even though we all looked a bit forlorn, I believe they are closer to true happiness. As a couple of tweens they are seeing that considering mom and working towards a group-happy means familial happiness. The group needs to stick close. I am trying to teach my kids that being a family means being sensitive to everyone’s needs. I am being more transparent as to mine in hopes that they will see me as needy too, sensitive too, and faulted too. I want them to see the truth about me and not a monument to an unreal goal. In doing this, I hope they will be more willing to let me into their future and current failures as a shared event and not a shameful failure. I want them to be happy little failures that keep on trying and loving the battle.
I could have kept my own hurts to myself and let them believe that my whole purpose in life was to slave over their every desire, their every want, and their every need. But, Matt taught me something. Now, don’t think that he was spoiled. He was not even close to spoiled. He sweated over a mountain of log piles, stapled lots of insulation, moved plenty of dirt piles, and went without most often. However, one thing I never did was let him share in the honest load of self-denial for the sake of others. I never let him feel that burden of hunger if things were not planted and tended in the garden (I felt that); I never let him see the ravages of those who lost house and food (those family members where covered and explained for decencies’ sake), I never let him see the suffering of those trapped in mud holes of life, and most importantly I never let him SHARE in my suffering to provide, struggle, strategize.
As you can see, I have another plan now called share. I am learning to share and learning to voice more. Matt taught me that. I need to be more like him. He may have lost the war, but his battles are winning still. I hope I have said something of value to anyone reading. This is so difficult to explain in one short article on a blog. Therefore, I will try to summarize: Share in the load with your loved ones. Share in your needs and failures openly. Life is hard on purpose. Open those channels that allow for sharing this hardness and allow for failures.
I was such a failure. I never really knew that life was about learning to maneuver the mud holes. I was so focused on how to stay out of them. But, mud holes are the reality. He was just too in tune to reality, just too sensitive, just too human. And, I was just too into survival to notice. God forgive me! I gave birth to Your perfect son and only knew how to survive. I didn’t know how to be human, which involves a lot of greasy mud.