Substance Abuse.

Eleven years ago I would have skimmed passed that title and really not understood it. Ten years ago I would have understood it, but tried to ignore it. Eight years ago I would have already read the article attached... probably twice.

~

Many times in life we are taken to places we never imagined ourselves going too. We are usually taken to the last place we imagined ourselves being and we are forced to either learn from it or we repeat it over and over again.

That being said, in my life I have made my own choices that led me down paths that I have had to learn from and they were hard. They were invasive. They stretched me. And they eventually made me who I am today, I still am learning from them and healing from them and I am happy to know that in anyone's life there is always room for healing and growth.

But. (there is always a 'but', isn't there?) What has taken me for a ride, sometimes more than my own life choices, and definitely created a deeper constant growing pain in my life over the past decade is the life journey's of those I love around me.

~

Have you ever said, "I love you" and not known if that would be the last time they heard you say it? Or not known if those words had made it past the chemical battle going on in the other persons body? Have you ever looked at someone at 8 AM and been hugged by them and laughed with them... and then eight hours later they are cold, callus and distant? And there is nothing you can do, because you know it's the effects of something that has a much stronger hold on them than anything else in their life. It doesn't change your love for them, but you experience hurt so much deeper than you ever imagined, and they don't even know what you're feeling. They don't know what their choices (past and present) are doing to you. If you know what I'm talking about I want you to know, you are not alone. You are stronger than you think. You are a warrior. And even if they never have the ability to know your love and your hurt, they are so blessed for knowing you and having you in their life. (Even though sometimes the healthiest thing for you to do is not be there, while you are there for whatever time frame... you are an answer to a problem they don't even comprehend).

~

I have learned over the past decade that those who love drug addicts, drug abusers, substance abusers, they are silent warriors. They do not get near enough support and encouragement, and many times you don't even know what they are going through. There are more of them than you can even imagine. They wear a brave face and they try to live their lives, but when their phone rings, their heart races a little. They check police reports. They know the neighborhoods you don't want to go to like the back of their hand. They fall asleep sitting up most nights from exhaustion. They are weary. They are invincible... and most times they feel like they are barely hanging on.

~

I am rambling, but I have a lot on my mind. A lot of people. A lot of heavyhearted thoughts. A lot of love continuously going out to those that have an on going battle against something that took over their bodies long ago... and they need the love, they need the consistency, they need so much more. But it's not always easy. And it breaks your heart. Like a high school breakup, but over and over again, it breaks you. And you pick yourself back up, you wipe your tears, and you march on.... never fully being able to share your pain because it's just...too much.

I have love and have lost and still love many that have faced the ugly face of substance abuse. For some reason my life has taken that path over and over again, and I take it as a sign. After losing my brother, I knew I was meant to be apart of trying to aid in the battle against abuse. I just could not figure out in what capacity. Not until lately did something land on my heart. His heart failed because of years of weakening due to substance issues, but mine became stronger in time standing next to him, holding him, and sometimes even carrying him, 6'5" frame and all. I wasn't going to throw away a decade of research, life experiences, and an over abundance of knowledge because his battle was over, I feel like my battle has just only started.

I am going back to school. I am finishing my degree... but it won't be in finance, it's going to be in substance abuse. I want to arm myself with the education to work with loved one's that love substance abusers and I want to work with the abusers themselves. It is constantly on my heart. I pass someone in the store and I see their eyes, or the way they move their arms, the way they pause... and I know more now than I ever thought I would, and I don't want that to go to waste. I want to at least have the ability to help.

So that is my rambling. That is my heart. That is where I am. As I grieve and process the past decade, I want to arm myself with more knowledge than I ever knew before.

I will keep you all posted from time to time as I move in this new direction, but I am excited to know what my next step is, no matter how long it takes me. I know it won't be in vain.

2008. Love you kid.

What's Up, Wednesday? (Bigger bed, Bigger Problem)

Wednesday seems to be rolling around about once a week these days. I'm okay with it. It reminds me either that my paycheck is around the corner or I'm at least a few short days away from the weekend. So, Wednesday is okay in my book. I've decided to make Wednesday apart of my bloggy life by asking what's up? Since the idea of calling it hump day makes me think of cellulite and camels, I just really don't feel like saying, "Happy Hump day"....yes, I just said it.....dang it. Any way, here is what is up: 

My bed.

My headboard was propped in my living room. #excitedface #hashtagonablog

It seemed like the right thing to do. After months, and months, and months of not actually putting my bed frame in, it seemed like the time had come. I had purchased this beauty from an amazingly talented photographer/artist over at Lady and the Lens and it was/is gorgeous. I just ogled it all the time, hoping (praying) that it would fit in my itty-bitty room. Then it hit me, it was time for the move. The bed move. And so it happened. 

Let's just talk about  this head board for a hot second. It covers my windows. Like, I had four and now I only have two. It completely covers them. Not just a little bit. Like, the whole thing. But I"m okay with that. I embrace the big head board. I am one with it....at night.... or anytime I lay in the bed. 

There is a window back there....behind the bed. 

But lets talk about how I get into bed. This is where the issues start. I'm not short. I'm not massively tall but I am definitely not short. This bed, is a beast. When I sit on the edge my feet dangle, a foot about the ground. I'm just saying, it's weird. It probably doesn't help that I have a bed topper on top of this already huge bed...but it feels like a cloud (a need, not just a want). So getting into bed, as you can imagine, is not for the faint of heart:

1. I first like to try and get a running jump. This is an instant fail because there is no room left in my room for a running jump...or even a walking jump.

2. Next I try a few rock climbing moves. (I've got the skills, don't worry about it) Yet, the pillow topper is to soft to grab a hold of so instead I just land on my back. On the floor.

3. Then the whole, I'll just slide into it thing happens, I slide.....to the floor.

4. Finally, stuff* gets real. Like. REAL. 

5. Grappling hook, heaving. Curses. Yelling. Bruises. 

6. Make it into bed. Then I realize I left the light on. 

7. Decide to just sleep with the stupid light on. 

8. Have dreams about how I will get into bed tomorrow night.

9. Hot sweats. Cold sweats

10. And repeat.

My brother is 6' 6"......scale for size. YEP.

Happy Wednesday, that's whats up! (Sooooo cheesy. I will work on that for next Wednesday)