On a Monday, just a few weeks back, I was on vacation in Utah. And on that Monday I was 100% in my addiction. 100%. All of my siblings had gone home who also had travelled from far for their vacation, and so this Monday it was just me, my son and my mom. We had to go to my sisters house in a neighboring city to clean up supplies from the family events. During the entire drive there, I chose to engage in my addiction more than connect with my mom. I half heartedly listened to her talk, while my hands texted away with several guys--none of whom I knew. But somehow, stupidly, I wanted to make them interested in me.
When what I didn't realize, but in hindsight is so painfully obvious, is that sitting in the driver's seat was a person who WAS ALREADY interested in me.
When we got to my sisters house I snuck away as regularly as possible, claiming I was in the bathroom or downstairs cleaning, because it was becoming more obvious that my texting was a little more than usual that day, and I didn't want any questions. When my mom finally sat down in the backyard just ready to talk and hang out until my sister got home, I squirmed and wondered how I would make these replies on the phone....which was now charging inside.
I still managed to do it. I withdrew myself from the conversations. I was never fully present during them. And when my sister came home, my soul was so racked, I couldn't even think straight and I practically ignored her. My sister was point-blank irritated with me, and I just shrugged it off. I didn't even give my sister a hug goodbye, I assumed she was that ticked off at me. I was ticked off at myself....but then another text came through, and I replied anyway.
Today I learned my mom passed away unexpectedly. Out of the blue. Tragically. Unfairly. I love my Mom. She and I became closer and closer as I got older and somewhat more mature....but whoever said addiction robs you of connection, wasn't lying.
I robbed myself that Monday. And I really, really, really hate that I did that.
Oh Seattle what a sad thing to happen. I am so sorry for you and your family. I wish I could just give you a big, big hug. Love you xxxxx
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry for your loss, Seattle. I will keep you in my prayers.
ReplyDeleteI used to engage in my addiction with my grandmother, although I didn't realize it at the time. She died over 15 years ago. I still miss her. She was my biggest fan. When I started recovery and realized what I'd done, it hurt so bad that I had wasted precious time with her, ignoring her for my addiction. I wrote her a letter for my Step 9.
Now I realize that my grandma has known since she died.
Your mom knows and she still loves you and she's rooting for you! You have another angel on your side, Seattle.
I'm truly so very sorry. I can't even imagine your pain, but I can imagine some thoughts that might float through your mind...
ReplyDeleteThoughts like "It's all my fault," or "God is punishing me," or "I deserve this pain."
NONE of which are true.
YOu love your mom, and she loves you too. LoveS, as in present tense. She is not gone. She is still here. No doubt she will be your guardian angel now.
Use this as a catapult into recovery, rather than let it swallow you whole.
After the numb wears off you will likely want more numb. Such time will be the true test.
I am cheering for you.
Much love,
Sidreis
So sorry to hear that your mom passed away :( I'm praying for you, Seattle. And I hope that you will be able to feel Christ's loving arms encircling you as an answer to our prayers.
ReplyDeleteOh, Seattle. My heart weeps with you. Carry on, beautiful soul.
ReplyDelete