This morning my words aren’t coming so easily. Today is hard. Many of you reading this blog, know the heartache that comes with loving an addict. When it’s your child, it’s a heartache I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. If it were anyone else, I could eventually disconnect from that person and move on. As a mother, there is no disconnecting from my son. We are connected on a spiritual level. No matter where he is, no matter if we’re not talking, I always know when something is up with him. ALWAYS.
When something is up with Tucker, I always get a bad feeling. It’s weird. At first I don’t always know it’s about him, but I just get nervous or sad. Tuesday night, out of the blue, I was overwhelmed by a deep sadness. A cry yourself to sleep kind of sadness. All day yesterday I fought back tears, sometimes not so well, because I was just so, incredibly sad. Any time this happens, just in case, I always pray especially hard for Tucker, and others I know who struggle with addiction issues.
I’m the kind of person who will keep things in until I can (attempt) to figure out what is going on. Mostly that’s just pride because I don’t like admitting when I’m struggling. Is anyone else as stubborn as I am? I didn’t even say anything to my husband until after lunch yesterday. Don’t get me wrong! Typically I lash out in other ways, like getting incredibly pissed off about losing a stupid word game. Sorry Ken! I think you thought I was kidding…I wasn’t🤗. Or like being overly defensive when your friend is complaining about dealing with addicts in the workplace. Trust me, I understand the frustration! I’m sick of it myself! It’s just that, when you hear someone talk about addicts, and you know every word they’re saying is true, but you also know that God did not create these people to live like that, and that as long as they are breathing, there is hope, it’s hard (sometimes) not to say something. Maybe I wasn’t too big of a b*tch.
I slept last night. A peaceful sleep. I woke up way before my alarm clock, and as usual, picked up my phone to check the time. I had two missed calls from an 866 number. I had two voicemails. My sadness was explained. Steve, my husband, just said yesterday, “soon, we are either going to get a call from jail, or a call saying he’s dead. That’s inevitable.” That’s just the reality of addiction. The two voicemails were from jail. As sad as that makes me, it’s so much better than the call we could have received. I’ve always felt like jail was God’s way of keeping Tucker safe. Still, my heart aches.
The last year (or so) has been hard. When you feel like God promised you something and it keeps blowing up in your face, it wears you down. I’m not the same person I was 2 years ago. I want to be, but I’m not. Some days I struggle just to hang on to anything that remotely resembles the old me! Y’all please pray for me and my family, and for other families like us. Pray for healing and restored faith. And pray that I’m not a butthole to my friends and family 😁.