This will probably be the hardest post that I have ever written and I have held off for many, many years. But I feel now is the time to share more of my story from 8 years ago that many of you do not know. So that you know where I have come from and just maybe how far I have come. My hope is that I am able to encourage someone that may end up down the same road I did.
Have you ever heard the saying, "love hurts?" It's true. I'm sure that most of you reading this have been hurt by someone you love. A friend. A child. A parent. A sibling. A spouse. At some point, we've all been hurt. And the reason we hurt is because we love them deeply. If we didn't love, then we wouldn't hurt. It's inevitable, we will endure pain when we love someone.
Words hurt more when they come from someone we love. Loss hurts more when it's someone we love. Grief is worse when it's over someone we love. There is nothing in this world that compares to love but where there is love, there will be heartache.
My son was born on March 25, 2008 and the days and months to follow were the best and worst days of my life. What should have been milestones and firsts became sleepless nights and days filled with unexplainable grief. I brought my newborn baby out to the country where we lived. I was a new mom. I was an inexperienced mom because we hadn't had a little baby around our family in a long time. It was all new to me. It was hard. Being a new mom is tough. No one can prepare you for the emotions that follow childbirth. The physical pain. The tears that fall because your baby won't stop crying. Your baby won't sleep. And you are all alone. At least 20-25 minutes from civilization and your little boy's daddy is nowhere to be found. I was confused. I was struggling. I was tired, exhausted both mentally and physically. I had heard so many rumors but I just couldn't believe them because that wasn't the person I had fallen in love with. That wasn't the man that became my best friend.
A few months later, my stomach experienced a feeling that I have never felt before. I found methamphetamine in the pocket of my, at the time, fiance's jeans that were lying on the bathroom floor. My heart stopped. I may have even stopped breathing and for a brief moment, life stopped. What in the world was I going to do? This could not be happening. I probably lost all of my senses at that point. I got my little boy out of the house and came back home to fight for, not with, the one I loved and my best friend. Little did I know, I would soon live and experience the biggest nightmare of my life. Days and months I would wish on no one. If you have ever had a loved one that was an addict, then you know my pain all too well. I had to pretend that I believed every word he said so that he would allow me to go everywhere with him and watch his every move. I was working with a good friend of his and his parents to get him into a rehab. I remember one night, he got out of the truck and tears fell from my eyes. (this is the part that rips my heart out) They wouldn't stop. I stared at him as he walked away but didn't see the man I had fallen in love with. The best friend that I loved to spend every waking moment with before I ever fell in love with him. I saw a lost soul. I saw someone that was so far gone, I didn't know if it was too late to save him. I literally was watching the person I loved most, slowly kill himself and he couldn't even see it. He was a walking dead man. I had to be tough and act as if everything was okay. He would ask where our son was and why I wasn't bringing him home. I would lie and tell him that my parents or others wanted us to have some time together and got some rest. We actually had a wonderful week but it was a week that I knew would come to an end and didn't know what would happen next.
I had him committed and when I saw the cops driving up our drive way, the tears once again fell uncontrollably. It was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. They cuffed him. They searched him. And he told me it was all going to be okay. He had no idea that I was the person that called the cops. He had no idea where he was headed. He had no idea that I knew anything. I watched the cop car drive down the gravel road and I can still remember the sound the rocks made as it drove away. I watched the lights slowly fade that carried my little boy's daddy, my love and my best friend. I went inside and hit my knees. I cried out to God, I screamed, I begged Him to save the one I loved. I have never cried so many tears. I have never cried as hard as I cried that night. Pain that many were clueless about. A fight that very few knew I was in and those that did had no idea how fierce the fight was. A daily battle that I carried around with me as I smiled at everyone I came across. When asked how I was doing...I was always good. Always. Have you ever been there?
The next days, weeks and months were beyond hard. I was a new mom. I was raising my little boy alone while his daddy was fighting for his life. Raising my son alone wasn't the hard part. The hard part was the unknown. What was going to happen to my son's father? I sat with him many a nights as tears fell from his eyes. He was fighting a fight that most don't understand. Addiction is cruel on those you love. It affects far more than you realize.
This is a glimpse into the first few months of my motherhood. This is the battle that I was fighting on a daily basis aside from other circumstances in my life. My point is this, you never know what someone carries around. You never know the weight they carry on their shoulders. You don't know their story and you certainly can't judge them unless you have walked in their shoes.
Be kind to others. Just because they have a smile on their face doesn't mean that their heart isn't breaking. When I tell you I grieved, I grieved like never before. It was a grief that I can't explain. It was as if I had lost him. I can't explain it and don't know if I ever can.
So be quick to listen and slow to speak. Slow to judge. Love as often as you can. Be kind every day. Be gentle. Use your words wisely. Not all of us share our struggles with the world. Some of us keep our deepest hurts inside and never let a soul know. We are all fighting a battle.
Comments
Post a Comment