LOVING AN ADDICT AND THE GOD FACTOR...

These last few weeks have been a trying time for me. I miss my Love like there is no tomorrow. If you follow my blog you know that he is in rehab, and has been away from us for more than two years. When he does return home in five months or so we will have spent more time apart than we ever have together. I know that seems crazy to a lot of people. It sounds crazy to me too. Why would I put up with the life of loving an addict for twenty plus years? I don't have the answer other than that I have waited and been through all of the hard times to learn what real love is. My Love and I are at a point in our lives where we are on the same page. As I write this it is a strange thing to see that, to verbalize, to acknowledge and appreciate.
I am used to being the bold, independent, self sufficient single momma who never had to answer to a man. That has changed for me, in a good and positive way. My Love has always been in our lives through jail and prison and now rehab, my kids and I, but he has never been fully "present". Of course him being incarcerated had a lot to do with that, and that probably seems strange to a lot of people. He has been the passive parent standing to the side because his choices prevented him from being an active participant in his children's lives.

When I found out he would be gone for yet another 2 years I broke down and cried, but now looking back on it I am glad his probation officer didn't let him come home, instead putting him in a rehab facility a few counties away from us. This was so he would not try to leave and come home, something he did anyway once and then it hit him that he was preventing his own happiness. In the beginning he called me and said they are trying to shove religion down my throat..I don't want that I don't need a relationship with God like they want me to have. I told him in those early phone calls to just do whatever he had to do to come home.

I believed, I was a reborn Christian. I was raised Catholic but never practiced as an adult. Instead after going through our domestic violence incident and staying at the local mission for a brief time I was urged by a woman who was also staying at the mission to go to a church near the mission one Sunday. I went and I listened to the sermon, at the end of the sermon they asked if anyone wanted to turn their life over to God and to have a personal relationship with him. The way the Pastor spoke was as if he was speaking to me and raising my hand that day changed my heart from one that was hurting to one that would be filled with hope. I was later baptized and when my children came home two of them also became baptized and we faithfully went to church on Wednesday and Sundays for 5 years. At this time their father, my love was in his addiction deep and every time we went to church we prayed for his sobriety and his heart to be changed. He saw how going to church changed me, how happy I had become. He tried to be in our life but I held fast that he would not be in our lives as long as he was using and doing drugs for a long time and then I allowed him to come home after a stint in rehab where he said he changed. When he did live with us I stopped going to church and blamed having a new job and working overtime as the reasons I stopped going to church. My life spiraled and I lost places to live several times because I allowed my Love to make promises to me I knew he would not keep. He again went to jail and prison and I continued making bad choices. Moving a total of 5 times in the next 4 years.

I decided to shut him out, I deserved to be happy, I even went to church occasionally, but not as often as I wanted to. It was during this time that he showed up on my door to visit our kids, in the daytime.. he paid no attention to me. Which was odd because every other time he would say he was coming over to see the kids he would show up late after they went to bed, ashamed for them to see him sucked up and coming down from his meth high. His attention was on his daughters this time and he came and said "I know they( the police) will be looking for me Kris, I am so tired of this life...I don't want to live like this anymore. I love you and my daughters but I don't know how to stop. I want to stop but I don't know how to. I know I have lost you and them." I told him that he hadn't lost us but that we could not live like this, that he needed to get help and that it wasn't something he needed to do for us, but for himself. He needed to love himself so he could fully love us. The next morning after sleeping on my couch he was arrested. That was almost 3 years ago. 1 year of it was spent in jail and then in a rehab in Fresno, that I hated because it had not helped him before, and didn't this time either. He ended up leaving and getting a violation, more jail time, he had done well but was still kidding himself that he could make it out here. I am so glad he violated and that his probation officer put him in the program he is currently in. It is called Teen Challenge and it has saved him from himself and made him a different person entirely. He has been there for one year. Every day after he leaves will be a day of hard work and making the right choices, but now he has a renewed faith and that faith will help us both.

When I speak to him now and spend time with him he is a completely different person. He has grown into the man I always knew was there. He has helped me to parent our children in ways that he never has before and it has been hard to listen to him give me direction because I have been doing it all alone for so long. I got mad the first time he gave me some parenting advice. I was actually upset with him for having the nerve to try to be a parent. Then I realized, wow this is what I had been praying for all this time! A partner who was willing to shoulder the responsibility. How do I know he has changed? It is a gut feeling, just as I knew when he was high on crank or drunk or smoking weed I know now that he has the God factor working in his life. People who find themselves in certain situations...Get God. Everyone in prison says they are saved, of course they are only saved to the extent that it allows them to get out and mess up again. That's not to say that some are truly changed. I had heard this before from my Love when he was in Prison. No this time its different, he had a conversation with me recently and he told me, "Pray Kris!" I answered back, " I do, I do all the time." he then asked, "Do you really pray Kris, or do you just ask for God to get you out of a situation? I am talking about taking time daily to meditate on the Bible and prayer." I was floored. Yes many of my prayers consisted of "Lord just get me out of this situation and I will go to church." Of course the Lord had nothing to do with many of my situations, because they were purely out of my inability to be responsible.
It was during this conversation that he told me to go back to church and I promised him we would. I thought how we might visit another church in the area, but for some reason I decided to go back to the church I had first stepped foot in over 10 years ago.

Last weekend was our first weekend there, there were seven of us, me and my daughters and a nephew and my grandson and my daughters boyfriend. It was nice and we left with a good feeling. This last Sunday we were anxious to go as we were having a special speaker for Fathers Day. All week I had told my Love when I heard from him. This speaker Darwin Benjamin, was like my Love, a former addict. I knew what he had to say would resonate with me so I eagerly anticipated the day wishing my Love could be with us to hear his story. He and his wife's testimony spoke directly to me and my family and rang true in many parallels to my own life with my Love. After church which had run longer than usual my love called and I told him how powerful the speaker was and what his name was and he said, "Wait a minute was he a black guy?" I laughed "Yeah, why?" and my husband told me that he had just heard him this last week at a Teen Challenge Picnic in Turlock. I was amazed that my prayers were answered and that my Love was able to hear Mr. Benjamin's message. I then started to see other coincidences if you will....The church I go to is heavily affiliated with Teen Challenge as it is an Assemblies of God church. I prayed every time I went faithfully to have my husband restored and saved. Darwin Benjamin is also associated with Teen Challenge and my church. The simple fact that my husband has developed a relationship with Christ at this facility is in itself a blessing. Everything is coming full circle from the very first day I walked into that church till now. Even after my absence for a long time God continued to work behind the scenes for me daily even when I thought he had abandoned me. That is the God factor at work. I fully believe that everything we do in life is linked to an event that needs to happen for us to find our higher power. Whether you believe or not is not the question because I believe for you. I know what God has done in my life and will continue to do. All that I or my Love had to do was surrender.

 

I messaged Darwin Benjamin's Truth Ministries on Facebook. I told him about the fact that he spoke at the event my husband was at and the parallels in our stories this is the reply Truth Ministries

• Omg - amazing i sure will pray for you guys and always keep the faith especially if we dont get what we want and how we want - we just need to say like Mary oh well let thy will be done Lord cause the Father knows best - i trust you Lord! Read Isiah 44:22 - 2 Cor 5:19-20 It's all there add 1John 1:9
  
  

  I am not here to tell you what you need to do with your spirituality. I am only here to tell you how my life has taken so many twists and turns and yet it has come full circle to where I first found comfort in believing as an adult. Too many coincidences to be just that. We are all works in progress and the truth is there is a lot of work to be done in both mine and my husbands lives but if me sharing this with you helps you through times of doubt and encourages hope in you then it has all been worth it.

WITH FRIENDS LIKE THIS WHO NEEDS THEIR OWN ASSHOLE..THE PITFALLS OF BEING A GOOD FRIEND...

So since the lunar eclipse my lines of communication have been blurred....with family and friends and apparently I have fallen into drama that I actually want no part of of. It is inevitable that with relationships with people drama follows...words are said, things are done, and relationships become damaged. Betrayal at its worst is hard to mend when it happens between friends, let alone family. I have been caught in a vortex of other peoples drama...I have enough of my own thank you very much. I am singleparenting it, to two teen daughters and my 20 something and her son. My house is overflowing with people...my space is not my own and I am missing my Love like crazy. I would not have it any other way even in my grumblings I know that this is a great time in my life and so I have resigned myself to the craziness of it all and written it off as, normal for someone like me. Yet I have been bombarded from the outside crazies with drama and lies and more drama and wow I cannot take it. Toxic people are sucking the life out of me and I like being in bliss mode not drama overload.

Why do we allow people to treat us this way? Why do friends and family turn on eachother over misunderstandings or assumptions and why is it that it usually involves money? Why do we fail to take inventory of ourselves before we point the finger at someone else? Why is it when you make a genuine effort to help someone they manipulate the situation so they are now making you out to be the bad guy when you bailed them out of their situation? This is a general observation of mine. Have I been guilty of it? Yes I have, but then I caught myself doing what every person who manipulates the situation do..play victim. You cannot be the victim of a circumstance you alone have put yourself in. I am not talking about real victimization like abusive relationships or homocide or rape or things like that. I am talking about the victim who believes their problems exist because of everyone else and not the fact that they made the choice to not pay a bill, or tell that lie, or not go to work or betray a friend or family member. That kind of victim playing annoys the fuck out of me. Have I done it? Yes I have. Then I realized just as I cannot allow people to treat me like crap, I have to be responsible for my choices. Ok so I go without water for a few days, or my phone is off because I have a big electric bill, I get pulled over because my tags are expired. So I hustle and work my butt off, maybe friends will come to the rescue and I will have my water back on, which they did....thanks guys. Yes I have or will finish paying them this week, I have not avoided them. I will work overtime to get caught up because hey life happens, things happen and the things I cannot control like my car breaking down or getting sick are inevitable, thats life. So I control the things that I can like making sure to pay a certain bill or giving up cable until I can afford it, simple choices people.

 Some people in my circle are generous and kind hearted and some are just takers....until they burn bridge after bridge and then it becomes an issue of paying back that kind hearted person with a barage of drama and insults and trying to make them miserable because they, the taker have failed to live up to their end of the deal. They are literally standing on the piece of driftwood thats left in that river of self pity they have created for themselves. They reach out to whoever will have some sympathy for them and usually its not many that are left, usually only telling their side of the story. We all know that old saying there are three sides to every story theirs, and yours, and the truth. Most people in this situation have to hit their own rock bottom and either admit they have a problem or genuinely ask for help or even apologize to people they have betrayed, but not as a way to get back in good graces. No, as a way to heal a relationship that they may have damaged if it can be repaired. If it cannot then its time to let that person go so that your sanity can be kept intact. I have had to do this recently and though it is hard its best for me and my family. We are moving forward in our lives and cannot afford to have the burden of someone elses inability to be responsible. All I can do is pray for that individual.

Genuine relationships are rare. It is true that we cannot pick our family, that is a card that is dealt to us but we can surely pic the aces in our circle of friends. Surrounding yourself with people who you aspire to be like, is usually a way to bring out the best in yourself and them. True friends find reward in knowing their is no pricetag where friendship is concerned. Someone recently told me a mutual friend of ours became friends with him and his wife because my Love and I never had money to do anything. I didn't want their money, I wanted their friendship. I don't need to be bought and I sure as hell ain't gonna buy you. If you want to come and share a meal and good conversation and laugh into the evening I can be your best friend. Just don't expect me to pay for your fucking pedicure or spend my income tax money on something for you. That was said too. The moral of the drama hurricane I have been caught up in this last week or two is that I know who my real friends are. I love them as they are, with all of their flaws and inconsistencies....just as they love the fucked up person that I am. One of them said that they like that I don't sugar coat, that they know that I will be straightforward with them and that my real friends and family will continue to love me. Lets see after I publish this how true that is.

Sober Life.....I was slapped in the face by my codependent behavior, reality check for mates of those getting sober...

This past weekend was probably one of the best times I have ever spent with my family. My 3 girls, my grandson and my Love. I had dreamed of  days like this not so long ago and often times I had given up hope of having them. When you love an addict you are always waiting for the bottom to fall out, and now after all of these years of waiting for my love to realize that he deserves happiness, its finally happening and I don't know how I feel about it. Don't get me wrong I am soo glad that he is on a road to recovery and sobriety. It has been two long years in rehabs and though I have prayed every day for this I am forced to look at myself as he gains a new outlook on life. Forced to realize that I too need to change harmful old patterns of behavior and change my role in our relationship. He is becoming the guy I fell in love with 20 years ago...funny, confident, loving, the person everyone loves to be around and gravitate to. I am an antisocial people hater..... I say that as nicely as possible. We are complete opposites and that is what I love about him the most, he is all of the things I am not. He brings out the best in me, and unfortunately when he was in his addiction he brought out the worst in me. I was a textbook co-dependent and to some degree I still am, but I have gotten better at drawing boundaries with him.

This weekend I had to check myself for falling into an old pattern, we were having a great day a 12 hour visit and we had a lot planned. I had a lot of stress just getting to him, car rental issues and creditcard issues and no sleep issues. I was like a kid on Christmas Eve, filled with the anxiousness of seeing him after 3 long months since our last visit. It was great, all of  our girls were so excited to see him. My grandson also came, who took to him like he has not been gone. I wanted to take him shopping and buy him some much needed things, specifically tennis shoes, we shopped at the Gilroy outlets after a long morning of Monterey Bay Aquarium and Aptos Beach. Tired and beat I took my girls shopping as I had promised. He was excited just like them. For some reason he loves tennis shoes and I knowing this let him run wild looking at shoes. He was stuck on getting these ugly for lack of a better description effeminate looking sleek Nikes. I told him no, and as I heard myself say it I flashed back to the days of his addiction. I wanted to be in control of the fucking tennis shoe buying experience! This continued for three stores, too expensive, or he just didn't like Vans...I love them and have the hots for guys who wear them. Ok some guys. He then came across some 60 dollar Etnies and I had another shit fit...really I dont even spend that much on any item for myself...my kids maybe but me or him certainly not! I said no again. Wow, was I trying to suck the fun out of the trip or what? In all honesty I could of bought them, but wanted to hold it over his head that I had rented a car, paid for our trip and wasn't that going to be good enough for him...did he really need these damned tennis shoes? I told him as much when I went and bought a purse for 30.00 way over what I normally spend, it was leather and 70 percent off? I deserved it! He reverted to the kid he was when his Mom tried to make him eat meatloaf...nope he had to have Pioneer Chicken...remember that? Or Mc Donalds....I told him your not that lil kid anymore and he said he was "sorry, take back the things you bought me and I am just happy with you just being here."  That made me feel like shit....in the old days he would take it for granted that I would forgive him and reward him... a definite codependent pattern, and I would chide him and make him feel bad. Then he would be sorry and we would make up after hours of arguing.

This little tennis shoe incident made me realize that I need to work on my issues as he gets well. I too, need to stop trying to create conflict when there should not be any. He has had a history of sabotaging important days, especially holidays, and I have learned to react. So now that he has been working on himself and instead made the day memorable for our children in a good way, I had to sabotage it. I caught myself and apologized too. He settled on some tennis shoes he was happy with. I felt good buying them for him. I know in time he will be here helping me support our children financially and emotionally and making a better way, I know he can only do that sober. I know that we can only be a family if I work on my stuff too. Being in control is not all its cracked up to be. Sometimes like the waves ebbing in you just have to go with the flow. Our visit ended as I dropped him off and we said our goodbyes....I watched him walk in with his box of clothes and new shoes and he held his head up high. Something I have not seen him do much of in the past. I am so proud of my love, so proud of him in so many ways. I thank God for answering my prayers..."Dear God if you just let me have one day with my family where everything goes right I would be so happy!"  Yes it was one of the best days yet of my Loves sobriety, and a painful lesson for me. Learning to let him be independent from my control will bring us even closer. Ironic how he is teaching me that!

On loss and the lessons it has taught me this week.......To be thankful always, not just 1 day of the year..

I am feeling a little pissed off at God today. I want to believe, I want to have faith, and I want to know that the things he does in our lives are for a purpose. I have had two losses in my family in the last 10 days. My favorite Auntie Annie Avalos, who was 103 passed away. She was a wonderfully kind, genuinely sweet woman who always took the time when she visited my family when I was a child to pay attention to me. She was married to my favorite Uncle Joe, my Mothers older brother. The two of them were some of the happiest people I knew, at least that is what I saw in them. The laughter that filled the house when they were visiting or we were visiting them in San Jose are some of the best memories I have. When my Uncle Joe passed away years ago I saw how it broke my Aunties heart, she had her two sons and daughter and grandchildren to give her comfort. She became the person their lives revolved around, in a most wonderful and positive way. They all cared for her, last year my cousin her oldest son passed away, heartbreak again. I know that a person who has lived such a long life as she did had many up and downs, happiness as well as sadness, but my Auntie seemed to smile through it all with a knowingness that the Lord knew what he was doing in her life. I just can't seem to get that in my life right now.
I want to surrender completely to his will but when I hear the news that my cousins daughter lost her child on Thanksgiving day I just don't understand. I don't get that a God like mine would take from the world a little soul that was so loved, yet he only allowed her to remain with those who loved her for two months. What is the lesson in this loss? How do a mother and father survive this, how do they explain to their other young children where their sister is? How do they find the strength to live through any moment of the day? I cannot fathom the depth of their pain, and I know that no words spoken or written will heal them from their heartache. Really their are no words. I do know that having those that love you around you can be both a blessing and a curse. The comfort their families will provide them is something they will need now, and yet I know from my own losses my parents, and  a miscarriage, that you need time to grieve alone as well. I have not gone to see her yet, things are overwhelming for her. Maybe that's an excuse for me to not have to see her in such pain.... or to relive any of my losses. I think at times like this that is why people find it hard to be in the presence of someone who has had a loss. Its a reminder of their own.
When her father came to tell me I was in complete and utter shock, a wave of numbness and anger washed over me and the comparison of the two losses that our family had just suffered was something I looked at. My Aunties passing was really a joyous thing to see, her family was at peace and the memories of her were so loving and special. It truly was a celebration of the wonderful long life she lived! Yet for little Mykah who had yet to make a mark on the world, why? She came into her parents lives and those that loved them for such a brief time, yet she too like my Auntie has made a lasting impression on my heart. I had not gone to see her yet, I was waiting for this month to pass, I know new baby visitors can be overwhelming, and having been around a lot of sick people I waited. I thought I would have enough time to see her.
That is the shitty part of this lesson God has decided to show me, that there is never enough time....that the things you think you can put off or wait to do really are not promised to you..that life like time is something that happens so fast. The blink of an eye really. I told my cousin that we needed to see each other more that it is sad that we live in the same town and that those of us that live scattered here and there really don't have the closeness of my parents generation. We reminisced on our family reunions that were held in my Aunt Vera's backyard. Even if it was once a year, we all sat and caught up on one anothers lives, that was the Facebook of that time. I mean it is nice to see photos of everyone on Facebook and get a glimpse of their lives, but I don't really know some of my family members...maybe that is the gift Mykah's life has given me. The realization that living fully in the moment and being truly present in our loved ones lives is greater than any "like" on Facebook.

This post is written in memory of two of the sweetest people that ever graced the earth with their presence.....
Annie Avalos came into this world on April 17,1908  called home to Uncle Joe on November 16, 2011

Mykah Marie Bundy was given to the world on September 27, 2011 she was like a shooting star, here for a brief moment in time, called to be one of heavens littlest angels on November 24, 2011

How Alzheimer's Robbed Me Of An Adult Relationship With My Mother

I don't really like writing about my Mother, Ruby....not for the reasons you might think. Lately I have been thinking of her a lot, more than usual. I wonder if she were alive today how different my life would be. My mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's in 1992 the same year that my daughter Destinee was born, the decline of my mother was quite rapid spanning a 10 year period. In that ten year period she went from a shy but active woman in her late fifties who worked outside of the home and cooked, cleaned, who had always taken great care of her family, to someone who could no longer do her normal every day job duties that she had done for 25 years. I noticed about a year prior to her diagnosis that she seemed to be more down then usual, becoming less interested in things that she used to love. Cooking, she either never cooked anymore or practically set the house on fire because she had forgotten a pan of beans on the stove. Decorating for the holidays, she decorated for every single holiday especially Christmas, but the Christmas before my daughter was born she just didn't even care, no stockings, no creche, no decorated table ornaments. She stopped crocheting and sewing too, things she did beautifully. I had told my oldest sister that something was wrong with her in June of 1991 by November, my Aunt who worked with her also noticed she was confused by the things she had done hundreds of times everyday this led her to quit her job of 25 plus years. My sister and Father saw for themselves as I had moved out of state. I was only gone for 3 months and when I came back she was being seen by the Alzheimer's Institute in Fresno California, before my daughter was born in May of 1992. My Father Robert, my sister Loretta, and my brother Kenneth and I sat down at a big long table with doctors from the Institute who said she had Alzheimer's, early onset to be exact. They also told us that there was no cure and really only a handful of medicines they could give her. They told us also that the type of Alzheimer's she had meant my sister or I had a fifty fifty chance of getting it too. This news devastated our family and from that day on I tried to learn as much as I could about it, this was pre-internet, and Alzheimer's research was barely beginning to be relevant.

There were times I would care for her so my Dad could go to the races or get some errands done, and I would go to his house with my young daughter and make sure she would have lunch or dinner and would be ok. Sort of like babysitting, babysitting my own Mother. She would try to leave and walk out the door and yelled, "Robert! Robert! Robert!" in a constant succession and when she could not find him she would go into a cussing tirade that consisted of rapidly repeating "Goddammit Goddammit Goddammit Goddammit!" looking back at that is quite comical, especially if you knew my Mother. A demure, petite, gentle woman who hated foul language of any kind! I would try to calm her or distract her. Often she would repeat the same story of her brother, Manuel and how he had went to World War II and how once he came home to visit and she could see him walking from a distance as he kicked up dust she knew it was him through the dust clouds because of the shiny epaulets on his shoulders and she ran to greet him. Other times she would get mad at me and tell  me to "Shut Up" she had even pushed me a few times. The conversation or the battle would inevitably come to an end and her sundowning would stop and she would go to her room and I would tuck her in but she refused to take her tennis shoes off, for fear my Dad would come home and she would not be able to leave with him again. My oldest daughter was only 4 at the time and she would peek into my parents room and watch me put  Grandma to bed. One day she asked me "Mommy why does Grandma Ruby go to sleep with her tennis shoes on?" I looked at her and told her "Because when Papa Robert gets home she will be ready to go."

When my daughter started going to daycare so did my Mother, she went to respite care during the day so that my father could have a break and take care of things he needed to do. He cared for her most of the time, refusing to put her in a nursing home. I would pop in at the Cay Dare as my daughter Destinee used to say and visit. They had about 6 clients total in varying stages of Alzheimer's, some were calm and quiet, some were active, some had good days and some had bad. The respite care provided meals and activities. They all seemed to respond to music and loved when records were played, my Mother especially loved Kenny Rogers. The door to the Respite care was painted in a Trump L'oil bookcase so that clients would not try to leave the premises. This did not stop my mother from walking out and getting 3 blocks away before they found her. That was our biggest fear, that she would wander off somewhere. A year after that situation when I had my second daughter Kassidee she declined more.

Roles were reversed and when my second daughter was two she was pretty much bedridden. My father had set up a hospital bed in the living room for her. She spent most of her time there or in a wheelchair that was used to sit her up and feed her. She did not speak now, but I would look into her eyes and try to see a glimmer of the woman she once was...sometimes I would get happily surprised because she would respond as if she was still in there! She was wearing adult diapers and would get mad at me for changing her! My oldest daughter noticed she wore diapers, and I had to explain to her that Grandma Ruby could not go to the potty anymore. She shrugged and said "Oh she has accidents?" There were days after caring for my Mother that I would go either home or to work and feel like God had forsaken me. How could he let my Mother, a woman who would and never did hurt anyone get this terrible disease. How was that fair and I told him one day that I Hated Him, that I would not believe in a God who would allow my Mother to get ill like this.

I did not get to enjoy my adult life with my Mother as I should have. She did not even know my youngest daughter Makenzee at all. She would have fawned over her beautiful Granddaughters, she would have baked cookies with them, taught them how to tie their shoes or brushed and braided their hair. She would have babysat in a pinch and made them grill cheese sandwiches or told my dad to take them to McDonald's for a Happy Meal. She would have made them frilly dresses and crocheted hats or slippers for them. She would have been the proudest at their school events, dried their tears when they skinned their knees or comforted them when a someone made fun of them. She would have been their champion like she was mine. Instead my daughters either vaguely remember her or don't remember her at all and that is the cruelest thing this disease does. It robs not only the Alzheimer's sufferer of memory, but robs those left behind in its wake of any opportunity to have future memories, cherished memories.

I have some friends who occasionally complain about their meddling, nosey, pain in the ass Mothers and when I hear that I get so mad and most times I say to them at least you have your Mother. To which they drop their jaw and in apologetic tones tell me they are sorry....I tell them, "Don't tell me your sorry. Go hug your Mother."

What I would not give to have her here again even for one day so we could catch up on the last 10 years, so she could offer me comfort and tell me she loved me, or share a good laugh or even a good cry. My Mother was eventually put into a nursing home where she lived the rest of her days. My father visited her every day and I saw her often. She passed away on May 2, 2002, my oldest Daughter's birthday due to complications of rectal polyps that were cancerous, but her real death was years before.
I have since come to terms with God and I have forgiven him for taking my Mother from me and my daughters, clearly he needed the angel that she was more than we did here on earth. I know she is constantly watching over me and her Granddaughter's and Great Grandson and that makes me content, but it does not mean I do not miss her every single minute of every single day.

September is World Alzheimer's month. I want to urge all of you to be involved in turning Facebook purple, the signature color for Alzheimer's Awareness, coincidentally one of my Mothers favorite shades! Turn Facebook purple to support Alzheimer's Awareness on September 21st, go to this link to learn how..... http://www.alz.org/wam/wam.asp#boxHome thank you for honoring the memory of my mother, Ruby Gonzales and those affected by Alzheimer's, it touches us all.

BETRAYING THE ONES YOU LOVE...ABOUT MARIA AND ARNOLD

I have had my own struggles in my relationship with my girls father, as most of you know if you read this blog. So the news that Arnold has a "love" child, with a former maid was not a big shock to me. Not to say that what he has done is ok with me, it's not. He was in a position of great power, and married to a very beautiful, powerful, woman in her own right. I see a lot of parallels here... women like me who make not so great partner choices and Maria Shriver have a lot in common. We are usually very loyal, very forgiving, and always end up giving up something that is very important to us when we choose men with addictive personalities. I am not saying that Arnold Schwarzenegger is a drug addict like my husband, I am saying that he likes the power that he has attained through the years, whether it be bodybuilding or acting or politics. Those fields all have to do with a narcissism that means a person whose involved in them, would have some type of addictive tendencies. I knew long ago that Arnold was a womanizer when I followed him in bodybuilding, and watched him as he worked his way into mainstream America. Most overly confident  men are...I did not say all I said most. So when he married Maria Shriver I was shocked! What was she thinking?

But hah thats what people say about me. Funny isn't it how we hold other people, people we know and people we don't to a higher standard than what we would set for ourselves...whether it be choice of mate or falling from grace. The thing people forget is that the loser addict or  the famous politician  are just people. People who make choices that affect the world around them, and ultimately their families, the people they love the most.

So the thing that does get me is that the people who will suffer the most in this tabloid news, facebook, twitter, media to go, day and age are the children of these relationships. Maria and Arnold's children will feel betrayed and torn, hate and hurt and confused. All valid feelings. To know that you have a half sibling someone who has the same blood running through them as you do, and that is one of the reasons your family is broken is to say the least, overwhelming. Yet these children will endure this under the media glare of the microscope that is our sick obsession with the celebrity life. The "love" child by far will have the most to deal with, not having been raised in the limelight, living by most accounts a "normal" life. Imagine what this will do to him. I often wonder if as adults they feel responsible for the demise of the family whose life they changed, even though clearly they are not the responsible party at all!

When two adults make a choice to betray their families by having an affair its one thing, but when a child comes from that situation it becomes something altogether.

I feel for everyone involved but I know that a person like Maria Shriver will carry herself with poise and grace. I hope that the people involved will be able to move forward from this. After all life will go on.

Men have been betraying women, and vice versa since the dawn of time when that cave person discovered fire he or she was the sought after mate. Once the potential mate got what they needed they moved on and so fire has been handed down from generation to generation. Moral of the story? Don't play with fire kids you will get burned. So for all of the advances in the world people remain the same at their core. Life is full of choices, but ultimately you need to ask yourself can I live with the choices I made today? Sometimes the lure of the fire is just very inviting. 

Loving someone with an addiction....

I was not going to write anything for a while but as always something got me thinking and the wonderfulness that I feel right now is a feeling I am not used to. If you follow me or like my FB page or are even a friend of mine on FB you pretty much know my deepest darkest secrets. You know that the man I love is an addict, and that we have been on this roller coaster ride for 20, man, 20 years this year. There are those out there that like to classify me as codependent and they would be right to an extent, and they are entitled to their opinion. There are those that know how much I love my Love, and they understand it twisted as it may seem to the outside world. When people see us together when we are at our best they get it and when we are at our worst, they secretly make comments about how they knew my Love was going to mess up anyway and how dumb I must be to keep putting up with it. I did not know that the person that I was going to love would become a meth addict. I didn't fantasize when I was a little girl that I would be on welfare while he went in and out of jail and prison, or that I would raise our daughters mostly solo. I did not plan on all of the things that happened in our life to happen, but they did. I met my love and I fell for him, he was handsome and tormented, and dangerous, the proverbial bad boy. Underneath it all he was lost, he had a lot of issues, issues that he had not ever dealt with. They manifested in his addiction.

His addiction, to me, was like another woman. Oh and believe me he had those too, I could take that, for some strange reason, but his mistress meth I could not stand at all. I could not stand that she kept him coming back for more at times when he should have been focused on I and his children. The days he would stay away, the anger that would build. I left him numerous times and he would find me and beg my forgiveness or my help. When we were apart for four years after our domestic violence incident I still saw him and he found ways to call me or see me. I hesitated to let him in because I knew he was still in his addiction. This last time was different and I was different. He was tired of living the life that he was living, if I did not hear from him over a few days I worried that I might hear he was dead.

So to visit him in his program Sunday and to see the man I fell in love with was to feel such a profound wonderfulness that I cannot fully explain. He was genuinely interested in his children and his grandson. His humour and his caring and loving attitude, attributes that drew me to him in the first place were there. He was there, present in the moment.  Even my Lovelie that swore hatred for him softened under his attention. It was a beautiful reawakening of our family.

Its not without fear that I go into the future. I have no blinders on my eyes, and it is not as though I feel he has been miraculously cured of his addiction. Look at all the celebrities in the news it amazes me that these folks are kidding themselves into an early grave. My Love learned some things about himself this time around. Things he kept in a little safe place and did not want to let out because he would feel what it was like to have emotions instead of being numb to it all. He still has much work to do, and with hope and a renewed faith we work on things individually and together to make our family strong. It will be one step at a time, one day at a time. With the grace of God we will go into our future. Thank you for your love and support it means so very much to us all.

i vageled, bet you dont know what the fuck that is.....

I have been off on a hiatus well that is what I was calling it. I was taking a break from all things electronic, computer, phone, internet, even TV. Partly because it was not a priority to pay my internet phone service bill, and partly because our church was doing what is called a 21 day Daniel fast. Then there is always the part that I had a lot of paperwork to deal with. The fast ended yesterday and I was  proud of myself for not getting on Facebook or worrying about my email or what TV show to watch or even what to blog about.
Two weeks ago after church I was having literally one of the best Sundays ever, my eldest lovely decided to go to church with us and that meant my grandson would be going to the Childrens Church. He just about made it through the whole service. We left feeling somehow closer as a family and looking forward to a lazy Sunday. I came home and made chilibeans for the cold blustery day even putting a meatless batch aside for my vegetarian lovely. My oldest made cornbread and we all sat down to watch "The Blindside" one of my favorite feelgood movies. We sat there stuffed and even opened the door to let some rare sunshine in. My grandson was in front of the door facing outside and our backs were to him, he was too quiet for my comfort and I glanced over at him and watched him gag himself with a belt he was sticking down his throat. I told my daughter and she looked over at him and told him to stop and we started to laugh.

My really good friends know how I laugh. I laugh so hard sometimes that no sound comes out....and sometimes I will pee my pants. This was exactly what was about to happen and having just changed into some comfy lounging type pants I made a run for the bathroom. I could not quite get there, I started to pull my comfy louinging type pants off and I peed like one of those lil naked boy fountains. My youngest lovely stood in the door way and laughed at me and all I remember after that was a rush of heat to my face and waking up to my girls in hysterics. I had passed out and fell face first onto the floor, I know this because well I woke up to the grains of wood 1 inch from my nose and blood droplets, a really deep crimson color, on that wood. I remeber uttering "What the fuck??" and my oldest lovely screaming and telling me, "Mom stay there I just called the ambulance they are on their way!" AMBULANCE?

I pushed myself up and went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror there was blood on my face, my lip was cut and I was saying, "I'm o.k. really I will be fine....." I said this in hushed quiet tones something I usually don't do. So this worried my kids and they were scrambling as I plopped on my bed and instructed them to get me some clean clothes and a bag of ice. I could feel the right side of my face puff up like a puffer fish. The fire department got here first and man were they fast I sat on the couch as they examined me and then my living room was filled with men. Too bad they weren't there to strip but anyway. So the paramedic examines me, my kids tell them what happened and he tells me. "You vageled."  I laughed so hard that I somehow put pressure on my vagus nerves, nerves that run from your head down to your lower torso. Seems I cut these off laughing so hard. Apparently the vagus nerves control things like blood pressure and heart rate, two things that slowed down due to my laughing, and well voila I face planted. Literally. 

Not the particular fall from grace I was thinking of, but nonetheless  so typical of me to be the one in a million that this kinda shit happens to. Lucky me, no I can't win the lotto but shit I can vagel! Yay for me!

After opting to see my own doctor the next day I sat on the couch and no sooner had the paramedics left were my kids acting out the scenario and laughing. They saw my leopard print underwear and the vision of I, their mother face down on the floor with pants around my ankles somehow became less scary to them and more and more and more funny to them. I will admit I would fall on my face again to get such wonderful love and affection like I got after the fall. They have told me they love me everyday and sometimes more than once and I think it hit them that they need me just as much as I need them. Oh to realize that one day your parent may not be here.

Well I still have remnants of a black eye and my lip is scarred inside and I cannot whistle! I love to whistle hopefully its temporary, my face hurt up until yesterday even the roots of my teeth hurt! I had x-rays and wow was I lucky! I think it was the hook on my schnozola that saved me from a far worse fate! I have always loved my nose, it was never a petite or cute kinda nose but rather a bulbous and wicked witch kinda nose. Its fine too. So that is one of the adventures I have had on my hiatus from the blogosphere and web. So now you have a really good story to tell and I bet that if you ask someone if they know what vageling is they could not tell you.

Look it coulda been worse people vagel when they are trying to poop and are constipated. Yeah it coulda been way worse!

WHAT? DO I HAVE SPINACH ON MY TEETH, OR IS MY FLY DOWN IS THAT WHY YOU ARE AVOIDING ME?

Last week I was ignored two times, no take that back three. Ignored by two different people, different not just acquaintances/family. One person was a former employer rather my former employers daughter. Just as well we saw eachother a few times weekly over a period of five years and she on occassion signed my paycheck. On two seperate occassions she saw me in the neighborhood grocery store and each time we were less than five feet away from eachother, she surely saw me from the rear and the front and I am still pretty much the same me I was five years ago. Ok maybe wider, older, ughhh maybe that should read wiser. I know I am just as guilty for not speaking up but strange thing is I was irritated that she did not, and that when I tried to make eye contact with her she quickly looked away like she was trying to avoid me. Maybe she thinks of me as inferior to her. I often had that feeling from her Mother, that I was good enough to work for her but not much of anything else, she and I occassionally had blowouts, and looking back I know she thought I was more trouble than I was worth to her. I was an underling florist assistant in her shop and would never have the responsiblities that her head and pet florist had even though their designs were seriously horrid and  pets were works of disaster. When she put her shop up for sale I told her she should sell it to me and she laughed at me. "Oh Dear" she said seriously as if I was incapable of making a go of it, never mind that I did not have the money and in her eyes never would.

Now I pass the shop and look at the for rent sign on the door and I remember all of the hardwork I put into my job there. The person that bought it ran it to the ground instead of making it successful. Maybe one day I will have my shop. I miss my flowers and my creative side that is waiting for Valentines day to make some extra money. I have the perfect garage to keep roses nice and cold, so I can sell bouquets of love on the cheap on that upcoming day. So former employers daughter ignores me twice in a three day period and wow, next time I see her I am going to say HI so she cannot ignore me however much it may make her squirm to acknowledge me. I don't want her to run up and ask me for my autograph hah maybe one day, eh she has all of my cashed checks so when I make it big she can say she knew me when.

The next situation came out of a walk through Wal-Mart where a lot of my life seems to take place....... in the fabric department my loves neice looked right at me and  two of my three daughters and proceeded to ignore us too! WTF really? I made a comment that wow going to act like you don't know who we are? And yes I could have said Hi but this is also the upteenth time that she or her sister has ignored us. They talk to my other daughter who is dark complected fine but us whiteskinned folks they ignore. Blatantly, she ignored my fairskinned daughter altogether and introduced my darkskinned lovlie as her cousin to a friend, and they were standing with eachother! So I told my darkskinned daughter and she facebooked her about it and her retort by the time she knew who we were we were gone and it works both ways.....yeah it does but it has happened way to much from them. Before I remember who they are they are walking off whispering about who we are to whoever they are with. So I guess the next time I see them I will just have to say yes we are related to you we just have better hair. Ok  maybe I won't say that but I cannot promise that I won't either.

Got me thinking how many people have I ignored and lost out on great conversation or even more? Maybe its shyness or rudeness I don't know. But I vow the next time I see someone I remember, however vague the memory of them would be I will make an effort to say "Hi arent you????" and if it isn't who I thought it was at least I tried right? So even if I have spinach in my teeth or my fly is down say "Hi" to me if you think you know me, then let me know in some subtle but unembarrassing way. Thats the least you could do!

WHY ISN'T "THE METH PROJECT" IN EVERY STATE?

When I was googling Thanksgiving eve for apple pie baking times at the bottom of the page I was on was an advertisement that kinda caught my eye. I actually went to the ad for The Colorado Meth Project, it had vivid PSA's showing the varying phases of methamphetamine addiction, http://www.methproject.org/View_Ads/index.php  the ad that caught my interest was a john leaving a room and paying the girls boyfriend with a baggie of meth, it shows the boyfriend entering the room and the girl and he, both relieved that they have their high for the time being. WOW was all I could think. The next PSA I clicked on shows a son returning to his mothers house and him stealing from her, she catches him in the act and let me tell you I was flooded with emotions of sadness and anger and hate. Hate for the drug that has played an integral part of my families life. I was very naiive about drug use, and only ever tried marijuana a handful of times and rarely drank, even as a teen and young adult. So when my love became addicted to methamphetamine in 1993 I was not prepared for the fallout that would happen. He never did his drug use in front of me and never even offered it to me, which I thank God for. It would have been very easy to get high with him and become addicted instantaneously as he did. The catch phrase for the Meth Projects which exist in a handful of states is "Not Even Once" the target for these PSA's are teens but these should be seen by everyone. I tried to find out if one existed in California, Central Cali where I live is synonomous with the phrase meth capital. Sadly as of yet these PSA's are not shown in California and no Project exists here but it should.
Children of meth addicts have a high rate of becoming users themselves and in California that is doubled. Kids think meth will make them happy or loose weight, or that they don't really see it as a harmful drug. What they don't realize is that it makes you an addict the first time and that you are more likely to participate in more risky behaviors, such as unprotected sex, violent behavior and higher instances of getting into trouble with the law.
My children have witnessed their Dad when he was high in state of paranoia, saw him as he was hiding out from his family with other users, watched as he became someone they did not want to know anymore. They have seen his violent comedowns and they have seen him take his paycheck when he had jobs or valuables from us so he could get high. I think that because I did not use their chances of getting involved in drug use although high, are also lessened by the fact that they despise the drug and what it has done to them and their family. We talk more openly about things also, not all families do. I know the reality is that my kids will and have experimented with illicit drugs and or alcohol but I do believe that having an open and honest relationship is key when talking to your kids about anything.
My love is a newborn at being clean and sober and has suffered a lot of the effects of long time use. I know he became an IV user within the first year of his addiction.We have discussed his addiction numerous times through the years. He tried to quit numerous times and this time may not be his finale with the drug but it is the closest he has ever been to success for any lenght of time. I am proud of him, many are doubtful that this is the end for him and understandably so. I can only have hope that it is the end for him because it is for me. I will not sit by again and watch it destroy him. I will move on and just yesterday someone told me I needed to let him go. But that is my issue I am addicted to him. I have given up trying to fix him, he must fix himself and I must continue the positive work that I have made in my life. We do want the same things and we do want our family to heal, is he scared, am I? Of course we are scared, will we let that fear control us? I won't, I cannot speak for him. I always asked why he could not just quit, and I have asked former users that I know well now about their use and they all said the same thing. They don't know why, but it was an indescribable high that kept them coming back for more. Through info provided by The Meth Project I can see why; http://www.methproject.org/Meth_Info/education.php  methamphetamine creates higher dopamine levels in the brain. Dopamine is a neurotransmitter that regulates functions for attention, cognition, movement, and also for pleasure. Meth users experience12 times higher dopamine levels than sex alone would stimulate in your pleasure transmitter. Now that is a tangible example to me.
 I will not ever give up on someone I love as I have said in prior posts, but I won't let someone destroy my spirit again either. It is a high wire that I walk, being in love with an addict and most people tire of the same old story. My story is not finished. Neither is his.Will we write it together? Statistically speaking NO is the answer. But speaking from my heart, I hope so. There I go again with Hope the most powerful invisible force in the world.
If you or someone that you love is addicted to methamphetamine educate yourself to the reality that is addiction. Check out these sites,  http://www.methproject.org/ and http://www.nar-anon.org/Nar-Anon/Nar-Anon_Home.html. I would also urge that if you live in a state hit hard by the meth epidemic send The Meth Project link to you government representatives. Taking action creates change and change creates hope for the future.

why i blog....

I blog to talk about things that maybe others won't. I blog to make you feel uncomfortable with the  things that you thought you had no opinion on. I blog to make you look at the other side of the coin. Sometimes I get a reaction or create a feeling in you that you don't even want to acknowledge is there. I blog to tell my story. It is not some edited version of my life that I put before you it is 100% real. Blogging has been a release for me, a way to share, a way to look forward to putting my spin on the world I live in. I have had a lot of reactions to my words, comments or thoughts that others have left or said via someone else and that is a good thing. I don't look to be well read or liked I don't need that kind of validation. I validate me.
I often blog about my family because they are in my immediate world and I often blog about things that are very personal but I do so with the hope that it will create insight. Maybe a different way for a reader to identify with.  My love and my lovees all know that I blog about them and they have been very supportive in my efforts. I hide nothing from them. I often blog and add links that I think are helpful. I think that is an important part of the type of blogging I do. How do I classify my blogging. I just classify it as "real life" blogging. Sometimes I  fluff blog or blogging that is just for fun. But it is really apart from the real me. I think I am at my best when I blog about something that really strikes a cord in me or raises a passion in me.
I have been told I am the type A personality... if that is outspoken and forward, prone to argument and debate, confident and controlling, authoratative and informative then I would say I am a type A blogger.
I am used to rubbing people the wrong way... I usually do then they get to know the real me and they kinda either hate me or love me all or nothing and that is how I weed em out with my radar.  Hah seriously that is how I write either you like me or you don't and I am fine with that. I love free speech and I love blogging so I hope that you will keep on reading.
 Just wanting to show my gratitude during this Thanksgiving season.