I Am Blessed

Monday I had to give an informative speech on drug addiction. This should have been a piece of cake considering I am a recovering drug addict and know a little bit about the subject. I did research on it, prepared my outline, typed it up and presented it. I just looked at my grade and I got a high B.

I have been sitting here mad at myself because it wasn't an A. Now, I have never been an A student. I have gone back to school at the age of 41 and I am doing better in school now, than I did in all my years in school. I say I am blessed because I am actually doing something positive in my life and I am pushing myself to do well. Its kind of funny (to me) when I think about how hard I am being on myself over getting a B. If that is the worse thing going on in my life on this day, then I truly am blessed.

Texting

Earlier today I called my fiance to see if he was going to come over. He didn't answer his phone, so I sent him a text, and he responded immediately. That got me thinking. We text more than we talk. It seems like that's the way it is with almost all of my friends too. Texting seems to be easier. But it also seems to take away from the intimacy of a relationship. When I say intimacy, I am not talking about sex. I'm talking about human contact, hearing the friendliness of someones voice, or being able to tell someones mood that is on the other line. It use to be that when someone would call me, I wouldn't have to look on caller ID to see who was calling. I always recognized the voice on the other end of the line. Earlier today, my sister called me, and I didn't recognize her voice, because we text more than we talk. How sad is that? My own sister! I think we are all in such a hurry that we dont take the time to appreciate the little things. For me, the little things are hearing a friendly voice. Or an unfriendly voice!

I am not

I am not the same person I use to be.
I am not stupid.
I am not blind.
I am not vulnerable.
I AM NOT YOUR DOOR MAT.
I am not a bad person.
I am not a bad mother.
I am not a bad daughter.
I am not to be treated with disrespect.
I am not to be talked down to.
I am not to be made a fool.
I am a better person than I use to be.
I am smarter than you think.
I can see clearly now.
I am invulnerable.
I AM NOT TO BE WALKED ON.
I am a good person.
I am a good mother.
I am a good daughter.
I am to be respected.
I am no less than you.
I am no longer foolish.
I am me. I love me, and I love who I am becoming. If you can't love me, it's your loss, not mine.

Step 2

I came to believe that a power greater than myself could restore me to sanity.

Sanity. There's that word again. Yes my life was insane, I already admitted that. But restore it to sanity? What the heck does that mean? Live life like normal people? This should be interesting.

Restoring my life back to "normal" has been a process. It has taken a lot of time, but it's slowly becoming a normal life for me. I am the best mother, daughter, aunt, niece, cousin, sister and granddaughter that I can be now. I am back in school continuing my education and I am seeking work. Work is the hard one. I cant pass a back ground check with a drug felony on my record. People don't seem to consider that I have been clean for 18 months, and that I'm not the same person that I use to be. I shouldn't say that. My family and friends know that I am not the same person that I use to be, and I'm glad I have them there for me, but that doesn't change the fact that I still need a job. And I know I cant blame anyone but myself for the drug charges. I did what I did, and there is nothing I can do to change it. Well there is one thing...DON'T DO IT AGAIN!

Step 1

I admitted that I was powerless over my addiction, and that my life had become unmanageable...

My life unmanageable? Surely not! Just because I became so consumed about getting high doesn't make it unmanageable does it? Just because I could not get out of bed every morning (if I even went to sleep) without getting high, just because I went from smoking dope to shooting up dope, that doesn't mean my life was unmanageable. It just meant I was...okay, maybe it was a little unmanageable

You know, several people asked me why I couldn't just stop using. Lord knows how many times I had tried. I think the longest I went without drugs was 4 days, and those days I spent in bed crying because I couldn't handle the withdrawals, or I was asleep. That was the only way I could deal with it, or so I thought.

People who have never been addicted to anything, never understand. They think it was a choice for someone to start using drugs. They are right. It was my choice to start using, but it wasn't a choice to get addicted. It just happened.

Life as a drug addict is horrible. My days consisted of running around all day trying to find drugs when I wasn't selling drugs, or running around selling drugs all day and night so I could make money, get more drugs, use more drugs, and start all over again the next day. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but it was what I knew. And it made me feel like I belonged. That's a horrible thing to say, but I felt like I had a ton of friends, and that they liked me a lot. I felt like I belonged. Truth of the matter is, the only reason they wanted me around is because I either had drugs, and they wanted them, or I was buying drugs, and they wanted my money.

Talk about insane? I remember one time, I went to a "friends" house, and some guys broke into the house and pulled guns on us. I ran into a bathroom to hide, and they found me. They pushed me into the living room and made me lay down on the floor with a gun to my head. I moved and scared one of the guys and he fired his gun. The bullet went into the floor about a foot away from my head. After the men got the drugs and money that they had come for, they left. As soon as we thought they were gone, we got up and got in the car to go to my house because I knew I had more dope at my house, and they didn't know where I lived.

Unmanageable? Not at all. Insane, unmanageable, crazed, psychotic, unimaginably out of control? Yes.

Every day that I am clean, I thank God for my life. I am not perfect, and I am not curred, but I am better than I was 18 months ago.

Life catching up with me

This week has left me with a plethora of emotions, and its only Wednesday! Five months ago on Sunday, my precious grandson passed away. Yesterday he would have been seven months old, and tomorrow is the day we buried him, five months ago.

Today it seemed like everywhere I turned around, there was a baby boy, right around his age. I'm not depressed per say, but I have a heavy heart. I miss my little man something fierce and I wish this had never happened to him.

Just had to get that off my chest.

I love you Kaiden.

Powerless

The word powerless has been running through my mind over the last few months. I am powerless over so many different things. I am powerless over the weather, I am powerless over a traffic light not changing fast enough for my taste. But when I am powerless over people that are very near and dear to my heart, then I struggle with it.

There is someone in my life, that I love dearly, and this person is struggling with personal issues. I am a "care taker" and I always try and solve peoples problems, or at least try and help. This person doesn't know why they are feeling the way they are. Feeling displaced, like they don't fit in with life anywhere. And I feel helpless because I cant fix it for them.

I know I am not suppose to take on any ones feelings or emotions, but it is hard not to. Their mood is affecting my mood, and I cant just walk away from it. This is where the powerlessness comes in. I am powerless over this persons thoughts, actions and behaviors. I am powerless over the fact that they are becoming irresponsible. I am powerless over the fact that they keep their word to everyone but me. I am powerless. But I am NOT powerless over who I allow them to treat me.

I am learning the hard way to set boundaries with this person so I no longer get hurt. I am starting to feel better now that I got that off my chest, but the fact remains the same...I am powerless.

Death

I lost a very good friend this week, and I am having a hard time dealing with it. His name is Mark and he was the father that I always wanted. He was a great big teddy bear and had a pure heart and loved people unconditionally. If more people lived life like he did, this world would be a beautiful place. He never judged anyone and always had something positive to say about someone. He always looked at the good instead of the bad.

His funeral is Sunday afternoon at the same funeral home where we had my grandson's funeral. I have mixed feelings on going back there. The day we had my grandson's funeral, Mark was one of the first people there, and one of the last ones to leave. He sat right next to me and my fiance, and he held my hand the entire time. Mark also drove us all the way to the arm pit of Kansas to bury my grandson, and never asked for anything in return, not even gas money.

Shortly after my grandson died, Mark called me and asked if I wanted a tattoo done in memory of Kaiden (my grandson). He was a wonderful tattoo artist and has done one for me in the past. I told him of course I did, and he told me that he would do it for free. That it would be an honor and a privilege to do this in memory of that precious baby boy.

This is the tattoo he did for me. The writing is done so it looks like a child wrote it. I chose an elephant because my youngest daughter said that Kaiden loved elephants. (Even though he was only 7 weeks old when he died, she is convinced of it.)

I know that we cannot prevent death from happening, but I wish it hadnt happened so soon. We love you Mark. You will live forever in our hearts and minds. Good bye for now my friend.

All About Me

There is so much to tell about myself, and so little space. To begin with, as you know, my name is Kelley. I am 41 years old, and this is my third attempt at being a first year college student. My first semister, I was hit by a car a few weeks before finals, and had to do a hardship drop. My second semister, my grandson died when he was only seven weeks old, (but that's a whole other blog) and this semister (God willing) nothing has happened.

My life is an open book, so any time anyone asks me about myself, I tell them the truth.

I have two wonderful daughters. Tatianna is 24 years old, and Corrie is 15 years old and a freshmen in high school. They are as different as day and night look wise and personality wise. Look wise, Tatianna looks just like me, and Corrie; well, we don't really know who she looks like. I think she resembles my mother when she was young.

I am also a recovering drug addict. I have been clean for 18 months, and life is wonderful. In the past 18 months, I have gone through a lot of pain and misery, but I walked through it clean. I also got engaged to my very best friend in the world, who also happens to be a recovering addict as well. We have known each other for ten years, and there is never a dull moment when we are together.

Well, that's a little bit about me and my life.