Welcome Home

I am a believer and I have been for awhile just not as spiritual as I am becoming.  I went to church and I tried to get as close to God as I could but I didn't understand everything and I left some days being confused and and with no answers and no confidence to ask questions.

I had everything at one time.  Well what I thought was everything. I had money, a four bedroom home, two cars, a fenced in backyard, ate out when we wanted, health insurance, etc etc (none of these in a list of importance) and there was a sermon at church that the reason we have what we have was because God gave it to us.  We go that promotion or that job through the grace of our Lord.  I believed this but it still wasn't in my heart.  Then one day I went to work and I was let go and it was all gone.  I didn't question my performance or why I was let go, I prayed and asked what I did and where I went wrong in His eyes.  I have many theories but still not sure what it is and will probably never know.  I then had to start at the bottom.  Completely start over again.  I had built a life for my children and I with so many successes at a young age and was not on any kind of state assistance and now I had to get in that dreaded line at the welfare office.  Was I ashamed? Yes.  I didn't feel as if I belonged there ... maybe I felt that I was better than them.  It wasn't right but it was how I felt.  I had skills and an education and I was going to be getting food stamps and a medical card.  How could I work so hard for so long and then end up there?  I didn't know it then, but I would figure out later that God had a plan for me.

I continued to go to church. I loved my church and my pastor.  I could never get through a service without crying.  I was at a time in my life where I didn't know which way was up.  We were broke, Christmas was right around the corner, bills were coming due, my marriage was on the rocks and everyone always depended on me and I felt that I was letting everyone down because I didn't know what to do.  I prayed and prayed and no answers came but I kept going and kept trying.  I still didn't know but I kept my head up and I kept as strong as I could. But on the inside I was breaking. I was slowly losing it little by little.  I prayed for any kind of strength out there to get out of bed because I had to provide, I had to take care of my family ... I was what they counted on.

I won't lie.  I ended up straying from church.  I skipped a few Sundays here and there and it became more and more. My depression just became worst and I had to make decisions that I didn't want to make.  Decisions that were for me and my happiness and not what everyone else wanted.  People say they just want you to be happy, but ultimately they just want you to do what they think is best.  I had three children to think about ... thats what I kept telling myself and then it dawned on me that if I wasn't happy then I wasn't any good to anyone else.  I couldn't give myself 100% to anyone, even my children.  I made the toughest decision in my life to divorce.  My kids hated me for it.  I strayed from church, not because of the divorce but from depression but I began a new me.

This was God's plan for me.  He was showing me that life could be good.  That I could be happy without the money, without the big dreams and the materialist items.  Everything I had was so superficial and I was happy on the outside and then God took it all away from me so that he could show me what happiness really was.  What a hard road he was giving me though.  As God gives you nothing.  I suffered many times.  I cried many tears.  I had to learn patience, learn to be content ... learn to trust in Him.

I had started dating before I was divorced.  We were separated but I was not officially divorced yet.  I had guilt from that.  I had guilt from hurting the man that I was dating as well ... the man that I ultimately will marry one day.  I felt guilty for hurting my now ex-husband because I didn't want to hurt him, I just needed to be about me.  I just had so much built up inside and it weighed on me everyday.  I went to church one day in February and it happened to be communion that day.  I took communion and repented that Sunday.  Afterwards I cried and felt so nourished and blessed and uplifted and light and just so many feelings overcame me.  I was free of all that held me down at that point.  I haven't thought of any of that again.  I don't feel the guilt, I took Jesus Christ into my heart and he forgave me that day.

Today I am divorced but with a man that I never dreamed could exist.  I have never been treated better or loved more than I am by him.  I never knew I could love someone as hard as I love him as well.  I live in a trailer, which on the outside is pretty ugly but on the inside is home and when I come home I am greeted by my four dogs, Anthony playing his XBox, Alyssa on the phone and Brittney complaining about something.  Brian will be washing dishes and I just stand there to take it all in.  This is home.  This is happiness.  Thank you God.  Thank you Jesus.  Thank you for showing me the way to true happiness.

Addiction sucks the life out of you ...

I guess in the wake of Whitney Houston's death it's kinda made me think more of addiction.  I don't know if its the addiction that I'm thinking of or her family that suffered from the addiction as well and her death or what I'm even feeling to be honest.

I lived with an addict for many years and so I've seen not only what it can do to the person but what it does to their families and their relationships (hence my divorce).  All I can go on is what I went through personally and what I saw.  What I saw is a man kinda die in front of me.  He's not dead of course, but he pretty much gave up his life for the alcohol.  He gave up his family.  Reflecting on my marriage I can't really say that he stopped doing anything, because he really never did do anything.  He worked sometimes but mostly played video games.

What it did to our family is destroy it.  I have a son who thinks if someone drinks that they will end up like his dad.  A son who told me once that he knew his dad wasn't drinking because if he was he would become a monster and probably kill all of us.  Although, he will defend his dad to the end and consistently tell me that his dad doesn't really drink anymore. My oldest still defends her dad but its come to light recently that she doesn't even stay there on the weekends.  In fact, he pawns both girls off to whomever and just Anthony stays the night.  Anthony is such a pleaser and doesn't want to upset his dad that his dad just leaves and gets away with it, and although I know it bothers Anthony a lot he still defends him.  In counseling Alyssa revealed that she wants more than anything to have a relationship with her dad, and the counselor said to her that maybe he is just too far gone and its not possible anymore.  That broke my heart.  A daughter just wants her dad basically and can't have him because of alcohol.

The thing is, is that he disguises it.  Not like hide it - although he did that during our marriage - but does it when its "normal" to do those things.  He would throw barbecues during the summer and make it all about the kids and this big party they were having and they would plan the menu and the kids would be so excited about it.  Ultimately this was so he could drink though.  When the kids at first told me that they were having a cookout I was kinda upset.  Not because they were cooking out, but wondered why all of a sudden was he doing that.  He never wanted to cookout when we were together.  Then it dawned on me one day, that the first and last cookout we had wasn't a good experience for us.  Enough said.  If he's not disguising it, its going to watch football or help a friend work on a car.  The kids know, but they still say nothing.  Heck. Everyone knows.

When I was married I defended him to everyone.  He was either not drinking that much or he wasn't drinking at all is what I would tell everyone.  Who wants to be looked at like that?  I don't even know how they were looking at me.  I was stupid maybe .. to stay with a man like that.  Maybe they felt sorry for me or maybe they thought I was just pathetic.  Who knows, but I just wanted everyone to think that it was all perfect and fine and lied to everyone.  Maybe not perfect.  I just wanted everyone to think it was okay and that I was okay and that my kids were okay.

I knew it was all wrong but I thought he could change ... well I thought that he would change.  I thought that I could make him change for that matter.  I am pretty controlling and I thought if I made it to where he couldn't drink or made him feel SO bad when he did that he would just stop.  I pulled a lot of punches and did things to be in control as much as I could be but it never helped.  He was in denial.  He didn't want to stop.   That's where my lesson was.  If he didn't want to stop then he just wasn't going to.  It took me almost 15 years to realize it.  It was a hard and long 15 years.  But I learned and I went against everything I believed in - including my marriage - and risked disappointing everyone because now I wasn't going to be the pathetic and sorry woman married to a drunk I was going to be the sorry single mother who was divorced. *SIGH*  Can't win.

My ex's entire family enables him.  They overlook his problem and never say anything to him about it.  They just pretend it isn't happening.  They don't try to get him help or even share honesty with him and tell them what they think and how scared they are for him.  Maybe they're not.

So through all this blabbing that I'm doing (forgive me, my mind is a little bit everywhere tonight) I've come to a few conclusions about addiction and addicts.  First addiction is sad.  I understand that its the person that makes the choice to to continue to do whatever it is they're doing, but they think they need it.  Their body is telling them that they need it.  I am sure that's hard to overcome.  Which is where my next point comes in at ... without a solid foundation and supportive family and friends, an addict can never recover whether they want to or not.  An addict needs support and encouragement and most of all forgiveness.  Forgiveness is huge and not just forgiveness in your own eyes and in God's.  They need to hear it.  They need to know they have that support.  Addiction is covering up something.  Depression ... mental illness .. whatever it is, so its only therapeutic for them to know that you love and care for them.  When you ignore the addiction you're not helping them.  I'm not saying that everyone can be helped because the first and foremost person that needs to seek that help is the addict themselves ... but when they make that first step its HUGE and they should be recognized for it.  And if the addict isn't willing to make the change then you either sit back and watch them destroy themselves or you take that relationship out of the picture.  Everyone does have a choice.  So I am sad for everyone involved in addiction.  Everyone.

Everyone needs a best friend ....

So we have a lot of dogs.  Too many.  I realize this and when I moved out here it was not my intent to have this many dogs.  


HISTORY:  When I lived in Elyria, I had four dogs and four cats.  I got rid of three cats, kept one for my daughter Britt.  I was only supposed to have two dogs but my ex moved in with his mom and was only allowed to take the small dog (Tiki).  So that left me with two large dogs and a small dog.  Brian felt that although he liked my dogs they weren't "ours" so we ended up with another small dog (Cujo). Hence four dogs.


SOOOOO we were not responsible dog owners and small dog got the other small dog and nine weeks later we had four puppies.


Anthony has Aspergers.  Its not a disease, its just a socialization disorder so to speak.  He doesn't socialize much and its not that he really doesn't want to, he just doesn't know how.  He says things that might be inappropriate for the conversation and then when he is looked at different because of what he said, it discourages him from speaking again at a different time.  He also doesn't associate with emotion.  He might feel bad for someone but he doesn't get it.  He doesn't lie ... because he is a shoot from the hip kind of guy.  He is not the one to ask if I look fat in an outfit ... he will tell me what I probably don't want to hear.  He also has a sensory disorder.  Certain feels of objects either feel VERY good or like nails on a chalkboard to him.  Now he has outgrown some of these things.  Like his socks, I used to have to turn them inside out so he wouldn't have the seam on his toes.  Tags.  Things like that.  He has to also be stimulated sometimes a lot and sometimes its too much.  So maybe today he is constantly hugging me but tomorrow can't stand to have my hand on his shoulder.  It's really kind of touch and go every day with him, but he's not mean about anything and he will tell you if he doesn't like something.  I only worry about the anxiety that some things give him.  Which certain cognitive objects can help him with that.  He used to have a ball that had little tentacles on it (?) and that would help calm him down when he got anxious.  It kind of sounds like its a lot but he's such a great kid and we just deal with things that come up on a day to day basis.  We're used to making the different accommodations that we might need to so it never seems to big of a deal.  Honestly though, going to new places and new situations with him gives me almost as much anxiety.  I can't protect him forever.  I have to kind of throw him into it and see how he does.  We talk about it later if it was a bad experience and try to figure out what we can do next time to make it better.  He is easily frustrated by those talks ... he lacks self-confidence, although we believe in him and we encourage him every day.  He is truly my little hero.  I couldn't imagine having to live the life he does with so many internal struggles and I'm so proud of how well he does.


So when the puppies were born, something changed.  They cried and Anthony went and covered them up.  He was always pausing a video game to check on them, making sure they were okay just because .... even covered them up if he thought it was chilly in the house.  It was kind of interesting to me to see that he was worried about them.  They're dogs.  Little baby dogs, but still dogs and that's what he would say.  But not with one particular little one.  We called him Moo-Moo.  So we have sold all the puppies ... except Moo-Moo.  Anthony told me that he was his best friend and that he would take care of him.


Anthony is 12.  He has never had such a big responsibility like a puppy.  I explained to him what it meant and he just cried because he didn't think he could do it.  I NEVER want him to think he cant do something.  I told him we would help him and that was that.  I have woke Anthony up at 5a, when Moo-Moo woke us up.  He thought he could just put him back in his pen and go back to sleep .... but I reminded him that it wasn't happening.  He has to take him potty almost every half hour and at least every hour.  Needless to say, the last couple of days have been exhausting for him.  But then when Anthony sits and plays the computer, you see the puppy in his lap.  When Anthony is playing a video game, you see the puppy running around him .... Anthony loves this puppy and the puppy loves him.  I am very proud to say that we have an 8-week old puppy that has only had two accidents in the house and they were both on paper in his pen.  

So I have a lot of dogs.  Sometimes they like to leave me messes to clean up and I have to clean my carpets at least once a week and they smell and I hate bathing them almost as bad as they hate getting baths.  And when people hear that we have "another" dog ... I just smile and think of Anthony.  Because everyone needs a best friend and I think he has the best one for him.