What’re you thankful for?

..and Charlie Sheen is thankful for his whores!

I want to have one of those blogs that has all kinds of pictures and videos and bells and whistles that make it a pleasure to visit here.. Something that people look forward to what’s coming next.. I have books and info on how to do that stuff and I know I am smart enough to learn it if I apply myself but then I think, what freakin’ difference will that make? I can have the coolest, prettiest most tech savvy blog known to man but if I am not writing on there, frequently enough and well enough to generate a following, what good have I done? What use is it? So for now, it’s a canned template fronm wordpress and links from other people who are more studied in code than I.

So, yeah.. Thanksgiving is tomorrow and I am introspective. We (as a family) are in such a different position than last year, and I am looking around, on the one hand feeling pretty damned good about where we are compared to where we were while other parts of me feel parylyzed by the overwhelming lengths that are still left to go.

I’m coming out of a funk. I’m not bipolar as runs in my family.. I’m depressive depressive.. My norm is low, then I have periods where I spiral lower. October is hard for me. 6 years ago, on 10/30,  my 20 year old brother passed away from drug abuse. Or more painfully put, he o’d. Nobody in our family likes to day that but it’s true. He suffered from severe migraines and other neurological things but the way he overused all of his meds for years and years it kinda became this chicken or egg thing in my mind.. Was his headache and vomiting a genuine migraine or due to the fact that he downed the last of his percocets with whiskey the night before and now, his body, without any hair of the dog, was punishing him? Were the seizures and cognitive difficulties an undiagnosed autoimmune condition  or withdrawal from Klonapin? NObody in my family will really address these things to this day. But what we do know for sure is that it was the combination of too much percocet with too much klonapin that caused fatal respitory depression. And, I miss him. So I tend to go into a pit in October.

Now, I’m also an addict. So getting back to me and my own family, meaning the family I started not the one I was born into, and where we were last year.  Thanksgiving of last year the kids and I were living in a shelter and Husband had the apartment. This was my choice not his. I had had enough of trying to get him to hear me, enough of trying to get out from under his angry controlling rants and wondering what the hell went wrong. Being  physically disabled with no income of my own,  the day that I left him I went to Transitional Assistance. They put the kids and I up in this shelter. Me leaving with the kids had rocked husband’s world. He called on a daily basis, crying, apologizing and asking me to come back. I was using pretty hardcore and trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do with my life. Our life. The kids’ lives.

So, last year we had our meal at a family friend’s house. It was supposed to be neutral ground but, while everyone was cordial with Husband, it seemed clear if sides were picked it was my side that was. At one point, he and I sat outside talking amicably. he helped me up and we kissed, and I felt a wave of sadness at us being separate. Close Friend, the woman who was hosting us and who knew more about the gory details of my marital issues than anyone should, let me have it after Husband went back to the apartment alone. The kids and I were on pass form the shelter and staying at her house that night. “You need to keep boundaries, or separation is not going to teach him what it needs to!”

I, addled from the emotions of the day and the fentanyl vicodin slurry I called a bloodstream, wasn’t sure what I wanted to teach him or what I wanted for us, the kids, or life as I knew it, so I nodded tearfully, but quietly and let her rant and rage.

So.. fast forward to today, Thanksgiving eve, one year later. 3 of us are back under the same roof. Daughter, who is 18, lives with my parents in the next town over, but she is doing well. And though things are strained and awkward between her and Husband still, she herself is thriving. In one short year she has gone from a floundering highschool senior who is not at all sure of herself or what she wants, who only has a learners permit and counts herself making headway on the jobseeking front when she has a good interview. Now she has her GED, 2 jobs, her license, an Iphone she earned, and college applications pending. Son, who was welll behind his classmates in 2nd grade, and having to go to “guidance” for fighting or melting down  a couple of times a week, is now a socially ept (or whatever the opposite of inept is) 3rd grader who keeps up with all his classes. He has an IEP, gets the things he needs from that, and confidently takes part in whatever his routine throws his way, socially academically and on every other front as well. Husband has gone from working 80 hrs a week, completely detached from us except to rage at or ineptitude, to much more supportive and involved full time student on the VocRahab through the VA. I am in treatment for my addiction to opiates, being maintained by Suboxone and therapy. I am far from perfect, but I am trying and I am thankful we have gotten where we are. I have to deal with this depression. I have to deal with my other health problems. My food addiction. My addiction addiction. But for today, I am glad that all my nearest and dearest are significantly better off today than last year at this time, and blessed I am still alive to be a part of it. Happy Turkey day to all!!

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s