How am I supposed to feel? How am I supposed to feel?
How are I supposed to feel?
That’s all that keeps repeating in my head.
At this point, sitting outside in my car at Panera, I am still attached to reality. Still connected to who I am, how I know I should handle this stress (eat, breathe, don’t isolate), still strong in my belief that God knows what is best.
I just got off the phone with my dad, one hour conversation. The longest we have talked in six months. Desperation will lead you to word vomit about all the chaos you have caused for an hour with ease I’ve learned. Desperation will allow you to disappear from someone’s life with ease, and reenter like a tornado and flip their world upside down without a care in the world. Addiction is no joke, the sickness is no joke.
“We may think there is willpower involved, but more likely … change is due to want power. Wanting the new addiction more than the old one. Wanting the new me in preference to the person I am now.” – George Sheehan
The words detox, three years sobriety, dope. Spinning around my head. The realities of everything he is saying, making me come in and out. Detaching, reattaching.
Consumed with sadness & heaviness. No room for anger at this point, I’m not really matched with anger at a person often.
Can’t help but to ponder relentlessly, aren’t emotions such a waste of space?
What is sadness? What is the purpose of sitting in sadness. In sitting in tears. It doesn’t change anything. Doesn’t change your dad’s choices to use heroin again, doesn’t bring him to stop getting charges that will once again make him sit in stuckness. Doesn’t make your dad, this person who at his prime raise chickens, and goes out of kayaks and catches 47 fish with his daughter, and then cooks them up until they are slumped on the couch from a fish coma. Sitting in tears doesn’t make me any less a product of two heroin addicts.
I still haven’t been able to place the benefits of sitting in sorrow. But hey, we’re all a work in progress..
Dope. You’d think after 26 years of relapses and immersion in this lifestyle, Id know what that translates to. But, how inaccurate. I have kept myself naive to the knowledge of it all. Because my outcome has been to sprint to the other end of the spectrum, truthfully and thankfully without any real consciousness of it. I remember my entire life hearing from my 11th grade gym teacher, my 12th grade health teacher, my 7th grade boyfriend’s mother, how haven’t you fell deep in it? How aren’t you a statistic, the product of being a child of addiction. A drop out, an addict yourself.
“What is addiction, really? It is a sign, a signal, a symptom of distress. It is a language that tells us about a plight that must be understood.” – Alice Miller
But by the grace of God, I fell to the side of the spectrum where I’ve never seen cocaine in person, I’ve never been at a party where I’ve been offered that, I haven’t had a period where I woke up days on days from nights of drinking without any remembrance of what happened the night before. My reality is, one too many nights in a row of drinking, makes me feel too off balance. And let me make it clear, if that is the way you enjoy life, and its out of enjoyment not out of need, I’m not passing any judgement here. Life is to be lived how its enjoyed the most from the person living it. However, if you feel like you’re moving toward living a life of dependency, seek help. seek help. seek help.
“Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending.” – Carl Bard
Hanging up the phone with my dad, to call my mom to translates everything, I had this flashback to living in Florida, six years ago, and calling my dad regularly to translate everything my mom was saying in her heavy using years. Full circles.
Dope she says, heroin she says.
How are you feeling Kelsie?
Detaching. That’s what I do. Moving through the moments. Feeling too little, caring too little. Almost like I’m walking through a tunnel; you know when you’re in a tunnel you can’t hear anything outside of what is in the tunnel with you, you can’t see anything outside of the tunnel. That’s it, that’s me in deep.
What a heavy week of detachment. The most I’ve felt in years.
How are you feeling Kelsie?
The question that keeps swirling around my head.
How am I supposed to feel is what I irately want to counter to every single one of my beloved friends & family members that have asked me that question this week. But I don’t, because it isn’t their fault. They are being kind, gentle, present. Everything I need, but don’t know how to appreciate at the time.
The endless I am sorrys.
Such an odd thing we say to people in grief. What I say when someone I know is grieving. I am sorry. So odd.
6 in 10 people are dying from heroin right now.
6 in 10.
That is how I feel.
The possibility of my dad being that statistic.
How we’ve made it this far as a family without becoming a part of that statistic.
That is how I feel.
Whats the point in it all? In heroin. In destroying your life, again & again.
That is how I feel.
How can someone just vanish for extended periods, and then enter your life as an actual tornado, get what they want, and then vanish again.
That is how I feel.
It’s been 5 days. I’ve reattached. There’s been some anger I’ve been moving through. A feeling I really don’t resonate with, but here none the less. Anger in this sickness. Anger in my faith, that I’ve felt absolutely empty & disconnected this week from God, and anger that someone I care about is suffering. That so many people are suffering. Selfish anger that this is what I have to deal with in my life. That this person is causing pain to so many people that do not deserve it.
I was driving to my boyfriend’s house, ready to curl up in bed with the pup, and this wave came over me. This heavy wave, and it was as if for a second I embodied my dad, and my heart fell to my stomach and someone punched me in the stomach and I felt the pain he felt.
His words coming over me, I don’t want to live this way anymore, I don’t want to be sick, I cant believe I ended up here again.
And just like that the feeling was gone.
Suffering ruins me. Suffering keeps me from making eye contact with homeless, feeling to my bones how easily that could be my own parent, and for what reason?
For the reason that some addicts refuse to seek solutions when they are deep in the sickness. for one more time getting high.
So whats the point of the above, all that I just unraveled to you? You know, I’ve sat here for a few hours in this cozy coffee shop that smells like Christmas cookies & wondered countless times why I am sharing this so publicly.
The point is, life is hard & ever changing & people fall and suffer & no one is exempt from grieving.
Be kind, be gentle, be healthy, seek help, be a friend, don’t judge, don’t cast opinions that you know what the sick & down have done to get there.
I am so incredibly fortunate to have a community of people that love me endlessly, would kidnap me in a second if I asked, & are there in a beat to wrap me up.
I am okay, and I have realized this year little by little that through every hardship no matter how small/ how life alliterating how crucial self love is, how crucial being in touch with how you handle the obstacles of life are, how desperately I need God always, & how much I love all of you. The one’s who share light and love with me, the one’s I’ve never met but I can feel share their warmth with me, and the ones that suffer that I pray everyday to feel peace.
Love. Share love. Be love. Embody love. Pass it. Give it. Take it. LOVE LOVE LOVE.
If you suffer from dependency, seek help & pray for help, it will come.
If you are suffering for someone you love desperately who’s dependent on a substance, hold fast & be so incredibly loving to yourself and remind them no matter what you feel they hear or how they act that you love them. Pray & pray again for their salvation.
If you have no clue what any of this looks or feels like, that’s okay too. You’re still here with us, an important factor. I am so happy for you for the peace you have from this world, pray for the ones that suffer, pray for this world.
It’s an epidemic, a really sad debilitating sickness.
“People spend a lifetime searching for happiness; looking for peace. They chase idle dreams, addictions, religions, even other people, hoping to fill the emptiness that plagues them. The irony is the only place they ever needed to search was within.” – Ramona L. Anderson